Kiss The Boy (Prologue)
Have you ever liked someone that was completely out of your reach? I have. The boy I fell in love with forever when I was eleven years old was James Potter, or Prongs as he was known to his friends. With his unruly jet black hair, smoldering gray eyes and a lopsided smile that could - and often did - make any girl swoon at first sight, it was hard not to notice him. Girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, even when he was just a lowly first year he never noticed any of them... or me, as a matter of fact. At least, not until our seventh year at Hogwarts, and only then he noticed me because we, as Head Boy and Girl, had to work side-by-side on several projects.
With me, there wasn't much to notice. I was Lily Evans, a shy girl who usually stayed in a small group of girls her age, her closest friends. I was short, barely standing at five foot two, with long, straight, red hair that fell to the middle of my back when I didn't have it up in a bun or ponytail, which wasn't often. Freckles decorated my face- it was one of the two curses of being a redhead, the second, of course, was having extremely pale skin. The only thing that could be considered remotely striking about my appearance were my emerald green eyes, which were my favorite feature. You see, I was neither a geek nor a beauty queen; I was an average seventeen-year-old girl, but at Hogwarts being average was even worse than being classified as a geek or a loner. I was a nobody.
James Potter, on the other hand, was everything I wasn't. He was, by far, the most popular boy in Hogwarts; everyone knew his name, especially the female population. He was Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and a damn good one at that, and had assumed the position of captain in his fifth year. He was always invited to the best weekend parties in Hogsmeade and had an uncountable number of girls competing for his attention, which probably had something to do with his arrogance and the holier-than-thou attitude which followed him around everywhere.
James's three friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, were equally as popular and handsome as he was. They were also just as arrogant and self-centered as James. All four were from long lines of wealthy, pureblooded families and had the world at their fingertips; all they had to do was call daddy, and everything they wanted was theirs. That was probably one of the reasons so many girls liked them, but that wasn't my reason for liking James. He was always the center of attention, and yet sometimes I knew that he wished someone else was in the limelight instead of him, but he would never admit it. That was probably what I liked about him.
His seemingly inexperience drew me to him. Despite his popularity with the women of Hogwarts and his perverted jokes, I knew he had never experienced any extremly sexual relationships. If he had, it would have been all around the school. At Hogwarts, gossip spread like wildfire and the loss of James Potter's virginity would not have been kept secret for long. After all, when Sirius Black lost his, it was the talk for months.
My best friend was Arabella Figg. She had her own theory as to why James was still inexperienced in the sex department, and she always summed it up in two simple words: "He's gay." Being a true romantic, I'd retort to her unfounded conclusion with a crisp, "I think he's looking for something more, like me." Bella would always snort and return to whatever she was doing, leaving me to my thoughts, which always revolved around James Potter and I both looking for something more.
The only difference between us was that James had his whole life to find what he wanted. I didn't. I didn't even know how long I really did have; all I knew was that I probably wouldn't even survive long enough to complete my Hogwarts career.
As a Muggle-born witch, I was susceptible to many things that purebloods weren't. I had developed a brain tumor that had spread so far that it was inoperable. In my sixth year, a medi-witch at St. Mungo's had told me that this brain tumor was going to slowly cut off my bodily functions. Even magic could not save me, the potion I needed had been banned long ago by the Ministry because of its role in the uprising of the Dark Arts. Evidently the Ministry idiots didn't care whether or not the Muggle-born of the magical society developed a fatal form of cancer. Not only did they ban the potion, they banned the sale of any of the ingredients needed to make the potion.
I used to watch Muggle movies and read romance novels about the handsome boy falling for the plain girl headed for inevitable death; in the end their undying love for one another prevented the girl's death. I used to believe how possible it was, and I dreamt of finding the perfect man for me. My dreams were shattered when I was diagnosed with cancer, and all I wanted to do was live my life, however short it may be.
I had spent nearly eighteen years in the shadows, too afraid to take any risks. Only when faced with my own death did I realize that a life lived in fear is a life half lived, as my late mother had often preached to me. Before she died, she told me that she regretted her reluctance to take risks, and how she wondered every day how her life would have turned out if she hadn't been afraid. I didn't want to wonder! So, it was my resolution that I was finally going to go for what I wanted instead of waiting for what I wanted to come to me. I was finally going to take a few chances in my life. What did I have to lose, anyway?
Hogwarts, Year Seven
Head Girl
The fact that I have only a few, innumerable number of months to live has hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm only seventeen! I don't want to die. I am too young to die! I want to live. I want to grow up and have a big family and experience true, honest-to-goodness, unadulterated love. It's not too much to ask for, especially when so many people want wealth and numerous other things. I ask myself every day: "Why is it me that has to die? Why is God taking me so young?" It's hard knowing that I'll never get to have children of my own, and I may not even get to finish Hogwarts. It's so hard. But I will not cry; I wil not be weak. I want to accept it. There's nothing I can do about it.
That's why, this year, I'm going to do what I want, when I want. I'm writing the top ten things that I want to accomplish before I die in here, and as I accomplish them, I will check them off.
1.) Have a boyfriend who loves me for me.
2.) Be in two places at once, without magic.
3.) Get married in the church where my parents (God bless them) were married.
4.) Befriend someone I don't like.
5.) Have a snowball fight in front of Hogwarts castle.
6.) Go to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night, without permission.
7.) Attend one of the Hogsmeade weekend parties.
8.) Become an Auror if and when I finish Hogwarts.
9.) Learn to Apparate.
10.) Live as normal a life as possible until I die.
-Lily Evans
AN (Nov. 4, 2002): Tons and tons of thanks go out to my wonderful new beta-reader Herb, who definitely made the prologue a bit more understandable!
~drama queen