Visiting One of Saturn's Rings chapter 3 by shana shanaisme@hotmail.com aim: meshananotu
books hp pre-1981 romance pg
People stopped what they were doing and turned towards the person who had just spoken the series of inappropriate-around-teachers exclamations. Chess games lay left alone, kings shouting for game; a set of Exploding Snap cards exploded; a Zonko's firecracker flew towards the fireplace and blew up in a shining array of colored light. A moment of silence was for some reason going on.
Lily Evans was holding an unusually thin envelope and was staring after the owl that had just delivered it, which was now flying out one of the high windows. All eyes glanced up for a second then focused back on the redhead standing and now gawking at the envelope in her hands. She opened it, slowly pulling out the single sheet of parchment it enclosed, obviously realizing that the whole of the common room—even the people in the portraits—had slightly edged towards her. She was having a great time making a show to her eager to know fellow students.
James, unlike everyone else in the common room, had his eyes trained on the window instead of what Lily was holding. Another owl was flying through the window. Someone else noticed; now everybody was looking up again. It flew towards James, dropping a bulky letter on to his head and flying right back out the window. He turned slightly red, having learned how to control his blushes a long time ago, and muttered something about his mother liking to write long letters.
In normal circumstances, one would have laughed, but these were some weird circumstances. Only one person laughed: Lily Evans. She gave a loud guffaw, followed by a lot of snorts and chuckles. The ringing of her laughter followed her up the stairs to the dorms, obviously heading towards the seventh year girls' room. She carried the envelope and the parchment in her hand.
Noise started again, mostly consisting of idle chatter referring to what had just happened. Chess games were revisited, angry bishops now clashing into castles with violent feeling. And Exploding Snap card house being built on one of the tables suddenly went off and singed a fourth year's eyebrows, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he ran to the infirmary. A Zonko's liquid-start firecracker was sent towards a second year's head, turning her hair bright scarlet and gold—for Gryffindor, of course. Normal laughter resumed in the easy atmosphere of the common room.
All this happened in less than three minutes.
*
Lily went into her common room and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it and bent over slightly, panting heavily. The envelope actually meant a lot more than she had pretended it was when she received it. Thoughts of panic raced through her mind. How could she have known that the Hogsmeade Herald would actually reply to her personals ad?
"Lily?"
She looked up. "Oh, hi Melissa." It was one of her roommates whom she hadn't noticed when she'd run into the room.
"It's mul-ees-ee-ya; there's a y in it," the girl said, enunciating clearly from her position on her bed, the one in the middle of the row of beds. Lily figured Melissya's parents had wanted to make a plain name into one that was out of the ordinary.
"Sure, whatever you say. Sorry, that, uh—you know, you had to see that."
"It's okay." She opened her mouth to say something, but thought twice and shut it.
Lily regained herself and walked towards her bed. As she passed Melissya's, she heard, "Is something wrong? Do you have asthma or something?"
"No, nothing of the sort." She chuckled a little to show the idiosyncrasy of the idea, but it got caught in her throat.
"Cramps?"
"Not this time. Just, uh, a letter I got."
Lily's momentary hesitation caused Melissya's jaw drop and the thought gone 'round the world to take command. "You have a boyfriend?"
'So much for someone who hasn't heard the stories,' Lily thought. "Yes, I'm straight," she said sarcastically. "But of course. No, I don't have a boyfriend. Anymore."
"Why, did you break up or something? Is that a breakup letter?"
Exasperated, Lily said, "You don't gossip much, do you? I haven't gone out with someone in a long while."
She seemed to ignore Lily's first comment. "So what's with the letter? Oh, and you can sit on my bed if you want."
'Who said I wanted to? And why is she so inquistive?' Lily wondered. "Okay." She sat on the edge, her legs dangling over the edge and staring into the thick scarlet shag carpet.
"And...the letter?"
"Oh, that. It's from the Hogsmeade paper. Just for me to go there on Thursday night."
"Why would the paper send you something instead of telling the school to inform you about it?"
"Because."
"Thursday's not a Hogsmeade day. How'll you get there?"
"Could you just chill with the questions? I have my ways." Lily stood up and went to her bed. She could feel Melissya's eyes boring into her back as she jumped on to her bed and pulled the curtains. Suddenly, she realized that she left the envelope on Melissya's bed.
*
Moaning filled James's ears as he slowly examined his envelope. He sat in a stall in an out of order girls' bathroom, on a stool he transfigured from the toliet. A single light bulb hung on a chain above him.
Annoyed by the noise, he exclaimed, "Oh, shut up Myrtle. I don't care if you forgot what smoked salmon tastes like."
His finger skimmed across his name on the front. It was written with raven black ink, in flowing script—magic quill generated, for no one could have handwriting that scriptual.
A loud moan followed by three short sobs and a questioning statement came from a few stalls to his right. "No, I never threw up salmon through my nose!" he replied. "I almost don't care that you died. Now could you give me some quiet? Please?!" The sound lessened as Moaning Myrtle splashed into the pipework of her toliet. James sighed, having resorted to the only thing that shut Myrtle up.
James lifted the envelope. It was heavy; there had to be at least twenty sheets of parchment inside it. He already had half a clue of its contents—the number 3181981 was on the outside below his name, so it had to be something from the Hogsmeade paper. Why their answer was shoved among so much parchment, he had no idea. He slid his finger under the seal—rose colored wax, with a large 'H' and a quill imprinted on it. All the parchment inside suddenly flattened until there was a single sheet in the envelope. 'Interesting spell,' James thought, slipping out the paper. He read it silently to himself.
"James Potter—
Please dress in formal wear for dinner on Thursday at Le Champagne inside Hogsmeade. There you will meet:
| Number 3181980 | Female | Witch | enjoys Charm-work | 17 Years of age | 5' 7" tall | of Swedish origin six generations back |
Sincerely, \ the Hogsmeade Herald \ "
The lines with the girl's information was written in plain block letters, so plain it too could not have been written by a person. He read over her traits once more. Five feet seven inches tall? What girl did he know who was that tall? Then, he realized that he probably didn't know her anyway. She was Swedish, huh? Must be a blond haired-blue eyed wonder, James thought, grinning. His thoughts started spinning as he envisioned the perfect girl.
"Leave me to myself!" Myrtle shouted sadly.
"What did I do to you?" James asked, turning his stool back into a toliet and pulling the cord on the light bulb. He stuffed the paper back into the envelope, shoved that into his pocket, and opened the door.
He looked at himself in the mirror under ghostly dim lights and noticed dark circles under his eyes. 'Well,' he thought, 'everyone else is probably asleep already.' Glancing at his watch, James realized that it was eleven-thirty; far past curfew. He headed out of Myrtle's bathroom and back towards Gryffindor tower.
*
Lily's eyes were open. She stared at the velvet that on the top of her bed and draped the outside edges around her. She was surrounded in darkness, except for her wand, which she had lit a while back. The time was almost midnight, she guessed.
But all she could think about was the letter and how Melissya had probably read it hours ago. It made her look extremely desperate, being the reply to a personals ad and all. Well, she hadn't counted on the Herald replying; it was all a joke to her—until the letter came, that is. The letter was the root of all her problems.
Now she couldn't sleep, and she had classes the next morning. Her teachers would wonder why she was sleeping in class, and she had Potions first on Tuesdays; and any thoughts of sleeping through Tuesday and go to class was pointless, she had Potions last on Wednesdays. Ugh, she thought, rolling her eyes. If only Gryffidors didn't have Potions on Tuesday with Ravenclaws, then everything would be normal. The last thing she needed right now was Dan Michetti to come talk to her when she was going on a blind date in just a few days, with some guy who probably looked a lot more like Crabbe or Goyle than Lucius Malfoy—remotely cute because of his piercing blue-gray eyes. Slytherins, her other pet peeve (it didn't help that they had Wednesday Potions with them). Her first was now whoever her date turned out to be.
Lily laughed for a moment. She almost felt sorry for her date. She had made up all sorts or information about herself for the form, and exaggerated on things that were true, like her distant grandfather being Swedish, her height of 5' 6-1/4" and how she 'enjoyed Charm-work.' In truth, it was one of the things that came easiest to her—not like Transfiguration in which she could barely turn a knife into a quill, and even then it usually had razor sharp edges.
Once, a few years ago, she had accidentally slitted her wrist while writing something in Hogsmeade with one of the razor-quills; only then she hadn't known that her quill was imperfect. Memories flooded her when she remembered who had stopped the bleeding and rushed her to the nearest adult.
'Oh, I might as well go to sleep,' she thought quickly, willing the tears away. 'Melissya will find out tomorrow that the letter was a 'fake', courtesy of yours truly.' She buried the back of her head into the pillow, took one last look at the velvet top of her bed, and shut off her wand light.
*
books hp pre-1981 romance pg
People stopped what they were doing and turned towards the person who had just spoken the series of inappropriate-around-teachers exclamations. Chess games lay left alone, kings shouting for game; a set of Exploding Snap cards exploded; a Zonko's firecracker flew towards the fireplace and blew up in a shining array of colored light. A moment of silence was for some reason going on.
Lily Evans was holding an unusually thin envelope and was staring after the owl that had just delivered it, which was now flying out one of the high windows. All eyes glanced up for a second then focused back on the redhead standing and now gawking at the envelope in her hands. She opened it, slowly pulling out the single sheet of parchment it enclosed, obviously realizing that the whole of the common room—even the people in the portraits—had slightly edged towards her. She was having a great time making a show to her eager to know fellow students.
James, unlike everyone else in the common room, had his eyes trained on the window instead of what Lily was holding. Another owl was flying through the window. Someone else noticed; now everybody was looking up again. It flew towards James, dropping a bulky letter on to his head and flying right back out the window. He turned slightly red, having learned how to control his blushes a long time ago, and muttered something about his mother liking to write long letters.
In normal circumstances, one would have laughed, but these were some weird circumstances. Only one person laughed: Lily Evans. She gave a loud guffaw, followed by a lot of snorts and chuckles. The ringing of her laughter followed her up the stairs to the dorms, obviously heading towards the seventh year girls' room. She carried the envelope and the parchment in her hand.
Noise started again, mostly consisting of idle chatter referring to what had just happened. Chess games were revisited, angry bishops now clashing into castles with violent feeling. And Exploding Snap card house being built on one of the tables suddenly went off and singed a fourth year's eyebrows, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he ran to the infirmary. A Zonko's liquid-start firecracker was sent towards a second year's head, turning her hair bright scarlet and gold—for Gryffindor, of course. Normal laughter resumed in the easy atmosphere of the common room.
All this happened in less than three minutes.
*
Lily went into her common room and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it and bent over slightly, panting heavily. The envelope actually meant a lot more than she had pretended it was when she received it. Thoughts of panic raced through her mind. How could she have known that the Hogsmeade Herald would actually reply to her personals ad?
"Lily?"
She looked up. "Oh, hi Melissa." It was one of her roommates whom she hadn't noticed when she'd run into the room.
"It's mul-ees-ee-ya; there's a y in it," the girl said, enunciating clearly from her position on her bed, the one in the middle of the row of beds. Lily figured Melissya's parents had wanted to make a plain name into one that was out of the ordinary.
"Sure, whatever you say. Sorry, that, uh—you know, you had to see that."
"It's okay." She opened her mouth to say something, but thought twice and shut it.
Lily regained herself and walked towards her bed. As she passed Melissya's, she heard, "Is something wrong? Do you have asthma or something?"
"No, nothing of the sort." She chuckled a little to show the idiosyncrasy of the idea, but it got caught in her throat.
"Cramps?"
"Not this time. Just, uh, a letter I got."
Lily's momentary hesitation caused Melissya's jaw drop and the thought gone 'round the world to take command. "You have a boyfriend?"
'So much for someone who hasn't heard the stories,' Lily thought. "Yes, I'm straight," she said sarcastically. "But of course. No, I don't have a boyfriend. Anymore."
"Why, did you break up or something? Is that a breakup letter?"
Exasperated, Lily said, "You don't gossip much, do you? I haven't gone out with someone in a long while."
She seemed to ignore Lily's first comment. "So what's with the letter? Oh, and you can sit on my bed if you want."
'Who said I wanted to? And why is she so inquistive?' Lily wondered. "Okay." She sat on the edge, her legs dangling over the edge and staring into the thick scarlet shag carpet.
"And...the letter?"
"Oh, that. It's from the Hogsmeade paper. Just for me to go there on Thursday night."
"Why would the paper send you something instead of telling the school to inform you about it?"
"Because."
"Thursday's not a Hogsmeade day. How'll you get there?"
"Could you just chill with the questions? I have my ways." Lily stood up and went to her bed. She could feel Melissya's eyes boring into her back as she jumped on to her bed and pulled the curtains. Suddenly, she realized that she left the envelope on Melissya's bed.
*
Moaning filled James's ears as he slowly examined his envelope. He sat in a stall in an out of order girls' bathroom, on a stool he transfigured from the toliet. A single light bulb hung on a chain above him.
Annoyed by the noise, he exclaimed, "Oh, shut up Myrtle. I don't care if you forgot what smoked salmon tastes like."
His finger skimmed across his name on the front. It was written with raven black ink, in flowing script—magic quill generated, for no one could have handwriting that scriptual.
A loud moan followed by three short sobs and a questioning statement came from a few stalls to his right. "No, I never threw up salmon through my nose!" he replied. "I almost don't care that you died. Now could you give me some quiet? Please?!" The sound lessened as Moaning Myrtle splashed into the pipework of her toliet. James sighed, having resorted to the only thing that shut Myrtle up.
James lifted the envelope. It was heavy; there had to be at least twenty sheets of parchment inside it. He already had half a clue of its contents—the number 3181981 was on the outside below his name, so it had to be something from the Hogsmeade paper. Why their answer was shoved among so much parchment, he had no idea. He slid his finger under the seal—rose colored wax, with a large 'H' and a quill imprinted on it. All the parchment inside suddenly flattened until there was a single sheet in the envelope. 'Interesting spell,' James thought, slipping out the paper. He read it silently to himself.
"James Potter—
Please dress in formal wear for dinner on Thursday at Le Champagne inside Hogsmeade. There you will meet:
| Number 3181980 | Female | Witch | enjoys Charm-work | 17 Years of age | 5' 7" tall | of Swedish origin six generations back |
Sincerely, \ the Hogsmeade Herald \ "
The lines with the girl's information was written in plain block letters, so plain it too could not have been written by a person. He read over her traits once more. Five feet seven inches tall? What girl did he know who was that tall? Then, he realized that he probably didn't know her anyway. She was Swedish, huh? Must be a blond haired-blue eyed wonder, James thought, grinning. His thoughts started spinning as he envisioned the perfect girl.
"Leave me to myself!" Myrtle shouted sadly.
"What did I do to you?" James asked, turning his stool back into a toliet and pulling the cord on the light bulb. He stuffed the paper back into the envelope, shoved that into his pocket, and opened the door.
He looked at himself in the mirror under ghostly dim lights and noticed dark circles under his eyes. 'Well,' he thought, 'everyone else is probably asleep already.' Glancing at his watch, James realized that it was eleven-thirty; far past curfew. He headed out of Myrtle's bathroom and back towards Gryffindor tower.
*
Lily's eyes were open. She stared at the velvet that on the top of her bed and draped the outside edges around her. She was surrounded in darkness, except for her wand, which she had lit a while back. The time was almost midnight, she guessed.
But all she could think about was the letter and how Melissya had probably read it hours ago. It made her look extremely desperate, being the reply to a personals ad and all. Well, she hadn't counted on the Herald replying; it was all a joke to her—until the letter came, that is. The letter was the root of all her problems.
Now she couldn't sleep, and she had classes the next morning. Her teachers would wonder why she was sleeping in class, and she had Potions first on Tuesdays; and any thoughts of sleeping through Tuesday and go to class was pointless, she had Potions last on Wednesdays. Ugh, she thought, rolling her eyes. If only Gryffidors didn't have Potions on Tuesday with Ravenclaws, then everything would be normal. The last thing she needed right now was Dan Michetti to come talk to her when she was going on a blind date in just a few days, with some guy who probably looked a lot more like Crabbe or Goyle than Lucius Malfoy—remotely cute because of his piercing blue-gray eyes. Slytherins, her other pet peeve (it didn't help that they had Wednesday Potions with them). Her first was now whoever her date turned out to be.
Lily laughed for a moment. She almost felt sorry for her date. She had made up all sorts or information about herself for the form, and exaggerated on things that were true, like her distant grandfather being Swedish, her height of 5' 6-1/4" and how she 'enjoyed Charm-work.' In truth, it was one of the things that came easiest to her—not like Transfiguration in which she could barely turn a knife into a quill, and even then it usually had razor sharp edges.
Once, a few years ago, she had accidentally slitted her wrist while writing something in Hogsmeade with one of the razor-quills; only then she hadn't known that her quill was imperfect. Memories flooded her when she remembered who had stopped the bleeding and rushed her to the nearest adult.
'Oh, I might as well go to sleep,' she thought quickly, willing the tears away. 'Melissya will find out tomorrow that the letter was a 'fake', courtesy of yours truly.' She buried the back of her head into the pillow, took one last look at the velvet top of her bed, and shut off her wand light.
*
