Disclaimer: None of the characters (except for in later chapters) in this fanficition belong to moi. They all belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. So please don't sue me. Oh yes, but several characters coming up in future chapters are mine... I'll let you know, though! Thank you for your time and patience. And now on to the story! *Giggles insanely*

Chapter Four: Lives are Shattering

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Lily groaned slightly and drew the bedding over her head, trying to block the early morning birds' chirping outside. She hadn't slept a wink last night. This was partially because of her little midnight excursion involving James. All night long, she tried to think of some way to make amends with him (he certainly wasn't someone she wanted for an enemy), but every plan that came to her always fell short

A rooster crowed in the distance.

The girl gritted her teeth angrily against the unwanted noise. She hated it here. Even in the wee hours of the morning, the dumb wildlife made various noises, and THAT didn't help her sleeplessness.

The rooster crowed again.

This time, Lily lost her patience. She flung the covers (fluffy pink) off of her and stood up on her bed. She took a few steps, her feet sinking down into the cushy mattress. She rubbed her eyes to get the sleep out of them. She hated mornings....

All of a sudden, Lily's foot sank so low that she fell over. Her forehead came in contact with something cold and hard, and let out a loud thump. Shouting in pain, she looked up rubbing her head. Strangely enough, Lily had taken a step too far and had fallen off of the edge of her bed. And even stranger than that, no one had woken up yet. There were no other surprised yelps. There were no hurried footsteps crashing down the hall. She sighed. When she was in THIS house, nobody seemed to notice her.

THIS house... That thought made Lily look up in surprise. The room she was in was not her own. The walls were painted an ugly neutral color—Lily picked it out as some variation of peach—and the trim was a hideous peeling yellow.... Then she remembered. Yesterday was the single most horrible day of her life... The day she had to move. HER room was now in London, probably being mussed up by some new family. A little 5-year-old had probably scribbled all over her beloved bedroom walls. A dog had probably already peed in the corner somewhere...

She had to stop this thinking. Just imagining the mutilation her home was going through made her shudder.

The rooster crowed once more.

"Dumb bird!" Lily grumbled crossly. She still held her aching head. Another throbbing pain coursed through it. Standing up carefully, as not to aggravate her injury, she walked over to the window, where she threw it open. The world outside was still gray; the sun hadn't come up yet. "SHUT UP YOU DUMB FREAK!" she hissed at the bird.

As if in response, the rooster crowed back.

Lily quickly grabbed a nearby bookend and lobbed it out the window at the rooster. It missed it be mere inches. Screeching irately, the bird fluttered gracelessly to the ground. Puffing itself up indignantly, it let out a large screech. Then before Lily could hurl anything else at it, it quickly disappeared behind a neighbor's fence.

"Idiotic bird," Lily murmured crossly. Slowly crawling back into bed, she put her head under the pillows and attempted to fall back asleep.

¤~*~¤~*~¤~*~¤

Next door, a rumpled figure suddenly appeared with a faint pop in the driveway. In the gray early morning light, you could almost make out a deep blue cloak swishing around the figure's bucked black boots and neatly combed brown hair on his head. Fumbling with a long piece of wood, the figure rapped the doorknob and mumbled a word in a language never spoken in these parts. With a small squeak, the door sprung open, and the figure stepped inside.

Thomas Potter tiredly shed his cloak and threw off his boots once inside the door. He ran a tired hand through his thick, brown hair and began to stumble towards the parlor, his feet hitting the ground unevenly and his shoulders becoming hunched. All around him, short, ugly creatures with tennis-ball eyes ran, picking up the various garments that he dropped. One even came up to him and asked in a high pitched voice if he'd like anything to drink. Thomas shrugged half-heartedly before falling into a rather cushy armchair.

Janine Potter rushed over to her husband as soon as she could. She didn't like the state of him. His robes were rumpled and stained with sweat, and his face was pale with exhaustion. "Thomas!" she cried and flung her arms around his neck. Thomas returned the embrace but dropped his arms quickly. "How's work? What's happening?" she began to pour him a cup of tea.

Thomas sighed. "Well," he began.

At that moment, a sleepy eyed James stumbled into the room. At first sight of his father though, he dashed to his side. "Dad!"

Thomas reached up and ruffled his son's hair. The already unruly locks began to stick up even more. "Dad, how are you? What's going on at the Ministry?" A barrage of questions hit Thomas, but he didn't say a word. He sighed again.

"James, your father has had it rough! Don't be a pest to him, " Janine snapped. The long hours of waiting for her husband have taken their toll on her too.

"'Tis alright," Thomas said quietly, "He's being no bother."

Janine looked at her husband sympathetically, "Please, Thomas, relax. I'll get James out of here. Then we can talk..."

"NO! The boy has a right to know what is happening." Thomas argued. James nodded his head vigorously.

Janine shook her head slowly, but she agreed, "Well then?"

Thomas looked his family straight in the eyes. "I'm sure you've heard the news?"

"What news?" James asked.

Thomas turned wide-eyed to his wife. "You didn't tell him?" he asked softly.

"N-no..."

"Nothing?"

Janine shook her head. "He's really too young to be bothered by that, with him going off to school in just a few weeks..."

Thomas sighed. "The boy has a right to know. He needs to be prepared." he put his large hand on his wife's shoulder. "Could you at least show him the newspaper?"

Janine nodded her head softly and took a clipping from The Daily Prophet from her pocket. Hands shaking slightly, she held it up for James to read before letting out a strangled sob.

Four Muggles Attacked in Edinburgh: Three Dead

By Jason Wimbledon

August 2, 1971

EDINBURGH, Scotland, UK—

On the night of August 1, 1971, Mrs. Catherine Okerfelt, 37, came home to a grisly sight. In her home, she found the bodies of her three slain relatives.

Her husband, Jacob Okerfelt,41, and her mother, Jaquiline Nelder-Stock, 65, were found dead in the parlor. Her only child, Simon, age seven, was found murdered in his bedroom.

Later that night, Mrs. Okerfelt was also put under the Cruciatus Curse, but otherwise, was unharmed.

This massacre now has Muggle law enforcement puzzled. The victims showed no signs of struggle and there were virtually no marks of injury. The only thing present on the victims was a look of total surprise.

This, of course, is the work of the Killing Curse, as known to our officials.

A few other similar attacks have been occuring in other areas, namely Glasgow and Ayr. There, only Muggleborn witches and wizards were targeted.

However, the Ministry of Magic and League of Aurors are puzzled by the attacks. There have been no signs of Muggle torture or murder since the Killings of 1879. Not even the Dark Wizard, Grindelwald, was as bold as this.

This slow but steady uprising of mysterious murders has also been unnerving for many magical communities. There have been rumors that these new attacks are connected to the rising of a new Dark Lord, more powerful than those before him. As Ethyl Cluny says, "I'm now afraid to let my children go out to play. These attacks have just been getting more gruesome by the day."

Even so, Ministry officials are telling the public not to worry. According to Reid Kemp, the Minster of Magic, "The best Aurors are on the case as we speak." He also pleads with witches and wizards around the country, "Please, do not let these attacks destroy the livelihood of our community. Whoever those few renegades are, they will be brought to justice."

James's jaw hung open slightly in shock. He didn't know about that. He couldn't imagine that his fellow witches and wizards were doing such things to others... He just didn't know....

"Janine, why didn't you tell him?" Thomas asked softly.

At this point, Mrs. Potter began to break down. Great racking sobs escaped her lips as she tried to explain. She tried to utter something, but it just came out as a jumble of quick sounds.

"Mum, it's okay," James said quietly. He knew the amount of stress his mother had been in the last couple of days. He just couldn't bear to think of what she was going through, with what she knew. Slowly, he rested a shaking hand on her shoulder. Truth be told, James was now quite scared. He had never heard of anything like this...

"No, James, it's n—not 'okay'" Janine sniffed, "I should've told you. You had a right to know... A—and I was just to afraid to le—let you know. I didn—didn't want you to find o—out and get scared... I—I just didn't..."

James lightly patted his mother's shoulder. He couldn't be angry at her for trying to protect him.

Thomas drew his lips into a thin line. He didn't like this much emotion. It made him a bit uncomfortable. Quickly, he used the sleeve of his dirtied robes to wipe his wife's tears away, saying, "Janie, Janine, it's alright. You did your best. We all have to try now, or nothing's going to get better."

Janine tried to stop the flow of tears, but failed.

"Janine, do you want me to talk about this later?"

The woman nodded slightly, sniffing back more tears. Her shoulders bobbed up and down as she tried to regian her breath. Thomas motioned to his son to follow him into the kitchen. Slowly, trying to tear himself away from his crying mother, James followed.

Once out of earshot, Thomas spoke up.

"James, things are really going to Hell in a hen basket at the Minsitry." He admitted.

James nodded numbly. He had expected his father to say something like that.

"And," Thomas continued, "We really don't know what is happening. I'll just put it short... What Minister Kemp was saying was a big load of horse shit."

James now knew that they were really in trouble. His father almost never swore. When he did though, it normally meant that something bad was happening...

Thomas ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know what we're going to do... The aurors don't have any leads so far.. The attackers just seemed to fall off the face of the earth after that night."

"But can't the Aurors use any spells or enchantmeents to find any clues?" James piped up, "They could always preform a Priori Incantatum."

Thomas smiled weakly at his son. "You always have the best ideas, James. However, there is one little thing missing..."

James looked up.

"We don't have any wands to trace them with. Right now, all of the aurors have no clue as what to do. This has gotten so bad that even Alastor Moody has gotten called in... He doesn't have a bloody clue either."

"Oh," There was a prolonged silence before Thomas spoke up.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself aloud, "You're only eleven years old, and I'm telling you all of this....I'm sorry James. I mean, you're going off to school in just a few weeks, so I can't worry you. This is already scaring the living daylights out of witches and wizards far older than you...."

"Don't be, dad. Everything's gonna turn out right. You'll see. We're gonna catch the murderers, and everything'll be just the way it used to..."

Thomas swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. He wished he could believe his son. He wished with all of his heart and soul, but he couldn't. If he told James all of what he knew, he'd shatter all of those dreams. He just couldn't bring himself to say it... Of course there had been more murders. There have been for the last five years, but he and his wife felt that James was just too young until now to cope with them. Even now he couldn't let his son know of all the gruesome happenings around the country.

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The next few days passed uneventfully for Lily. James hadn't bothered to talk to her(which was for the best, she supposed). But for the last couple of days, it looked like he was just sitting inside his home, looking out the window with a forlorn look upon his face. She wondered why, but she didn't dare ask. If she did, maybe he'd chase her away while waving a butter knife...

No, that just wasn't his style. He didn't strike her as the psychotic type. Maybe he'd make fun of her instead until he made her cry... Yep, that's it, she thought.

She slowly walked around to the back of her house where she was supposed to be washing the windows. She groaned as she craned her neck to see all of them. What she saw nearly made her cry. Almost every single one was coated with a thick layer of grime.

Lily sighed as she kneeled down on the wet grass. This was going to take a really long time.

She slowly dipped the sponge in the bucket of water by her side and proceeded to wring it out, when—

"LILY!"

Lily jumped with a start. The sponge slipped out of her hands and plopped into the bucket with a slosh, soaking the front of her shirt. The sudsy water got into her mouth and began to sting her eyes.

"What?" she choked..

"Get in here now!" came her mother's angry reply, "You've some explaining to do!"

Grumbling incoherently, Lily stood up and wiped some mud of her jeans. What did I do wrong this time? she wondered.

With a feeling of great uncertainty, she clomped through the back door. Hurriedly swiping the mud off her sneakers and onto the doormat, she searched for her mother.

Timidly, she entered the parlor, where her mother was waiting. She was sitting on the sofa, her legs neatly crossed. Her face was emotionless, and she wasn't red at all. Lily took this as a sign of danger.

"Lily Marie Evans," her mother said quietly.

"Mum," Lily answered back calmly. She couldn't lose her nerve now...

"You have a lot of explaining to do..."

Lily stared down at the toes of her muddied sneakers. "What'd I do?"

Quicker than lightning, Marianne jumped up. With a few quick steps, she was level with her daughter, and brandished a rather large, yellowed letter. "This." She stuffed it under Lily's nose. "You haven't been sending away for anymore of those stupid mail orders, have you?"

Lily looked up at her mother innocently. "Not recently..."

"Well, take it."

Lily obliged silently. With trembling fingers, she turned the package over and over again. It seemed to be made of very heavy paper—parchment maybe—and shimmering green letters spelled out the address. But something caught her eye. On the front flap of the envelope, a large golden wax seal was glinting. On it were—"Lion, Snake, Eagle, and Badger?"

"Well, what is it?"

"I really don't know," Lily answered dumbly, still staring at the seal. Underneath, words could just be made out: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. "Strange...."

Slowly she slipped a finger under each corner and gently ripped up the cover. Out tumbled two thinner pieces of paper and a large, red ticket.

"Lily," her mother said disapprovingly.

But Lily wasn't paying any attention to her mother's glare or sharp voice. Something on the parchment was much more interesting.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Miss Evans,

We at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hereby inform you that you have been accepted into our academy. You should find an enclosed list of all needed materials and books for the first term. Also, you should receive directions to Diagon Alley in which to buy your supplies.

Please contact us by owl before the 31st of July. We truly hope to see you on September 1.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Slowly, Lily dropped the letter to her side. "There must be some mistake..." she whispered quietly, "I can't be a—"

"A what?" Mrs. Evans asked.

"I... I mean... How can I be... I never was.... IF I was, which I wasn't, then why didn't.... This must be some sick joke of Potter's..."

"WHAT?"

Lily shrugged, her face pale as she handed the piece of parchment to her mother. As soon as she let go, she drew a shuddering breath before reaching for the other paper.

Mrs. Evans silently read the paper several times before looking up "Is this true, Lily?" she whispered, eyes wide.

"I dunno... I don't think... I mean, there's a list of stuff here anyways... A wand, robes, a cauldron... Dragon-hide gloves...."

"Let me see that." Mrs. Evans snapped suddenly. She snatched the parchment from her daughter's hand and began to read down the list. She froze abruptly before turning in the direction of the cellar. "RICHARD!" she shreiked.

There was a heavy clumping sound, and suddenly a very loud, rude four-letter word could be heard echoing up from downstairs. A few moments later there was the loud banging of a door being slammed. Soon, a very rumpled Richard stomped into the kitchen clutching a very large bruise on his forehead. "Marianne, next time, don't go screaming like a lunatic to get me up here... I forgot to duck this time..."

Marianne cut her husband off by shoving the letter under his rather large nose, her lips drawn into a thin, white line.

"Marianne, wha—?" but he soon forgot his complaints as her started reading. His thick bushy eyebrows formed into a puzzled look as he continued reading.

"Lily?" he looked up.

"Yes daddy?"

Richard stared at his daughter in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open stupidly. "Is... Is this real? Are you really a... a..."

"Witch?" Lily finished in barely a whisper, "I'm not sure..." In fact, Lily hadn't even thought of ANYTHING like that until today.

Richard shook his head, but looked straight into his daughter's emerald eyes, "Lily, please... Go upstairs and... and... do something.... Your mother and I have to... discuss..."

Lily stared back before nodding silently and turning towards the stairs. There was something in her father's eyes... It wasn't fear or disgust... It wasn't even shock... She just couldn't figure out what it was. As she climbed the stairs, she could hear her parents' hushed voices whispering excitedly, but she couldn't quite catch every word—

"What if...."

"How do.... she got it..."

"From your... Grand— seemed the type..."

"Maybe.... sign?"

"Whatever it.... luck..."

"....Blessed...."

A/N: Here ends chapter four. Please forgive the ending, I was running out of ideas (plus I was half asleep. I wrote this part at about midnight, and I normally don't stay up that late). This chapter may have seemed a bit dry, especially in Lily's part (it took me 3 weeks to write two paragraphs! GAH!)! Or perhaps it could be that I'm just lazy ::shrugs:: Whatever. I hope you all like the next chapter better.... It has little clips from Monty Python's Flying Circus! Yippee! I just lurve Monty Python, don't you?

AND MUCH LOVE TO THE PEOPLE WHO REVIEW! I LOVE YOU GUYS! ::hugs and kisses::