Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize from any Harry Potter book. If you don't recognize it: Hey it's mine!
I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! Here's a second one to boot! Thanks and please review. I just want to know if I'm making you guys happy, or repulsing you to the ends of the Earth, making you jab out your left eye for the fun of it, ok? Thanks! On with the show…
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In the Leaky Cauldron, after his sixth Butterbeer, James was easily conversing with his father about everything and anything that came to his mind. Tonight was August thirty-first, and the end of the weeklong break Mr. Potter took off for James. Their time had been spent walking along the moors that were not too far from the Potter Manor, playing long nights of chess while talking idly and of course, going out to dinner. Or drinks – Butterbeer of course, as James wasn't of age.
"So James, Prefect this year, Head Boy next year!" Mr. Potter said, talking as a proud father only could.
"Yeah, I'll try," was all James could say. Family tradition was a real burden. He decided to change the subject. They had bridged the topic of Head Boy-ship often and James had always found a way to skirt around it. "Know who I'm going to be working with this year?" James asked, smiling at the thought. He leaned back into the old, worn material of the booth they were in. James signaled Tom, the new bartender, for another round of Butterbeer.
"Hm, must have slipped my mind again. Please enlighten me." Mr. Potter had heard this many a time for the past week; it was easily the biggest thing on his son's mind. "Oh, and don't forget to tell me everything you know about her. Don't leave out even the smallest of details." To get his point across, he clasped his hands together and put them on the table, staring intently at James.
"Well," James started, not taking in the look on his father's face or the tone in his voice (which was of pure amusement), "Her name is Lily Evans. We met on the Hogwarts Express during first year and I accidentally turned Jen's hair purple. You know Jen of course, have since she was born. They're best friends now. That's how I met Remus and Peter as well. So anyways, Lily laughed at it instead of getting angry like a different girl Janna – Ravenclaw Chaser – did. I knew right then that she was different…" James went on for three more hours, telling of all his encounters with Lily Evans, his Prefect partner. His Prefect partner. Yea, that sounded good.
Mr. Potter sat through it all again. It was amazing to see that his son had grown up so much since the previous year. He was disappointed in himself that he hadn't always been there for him, being a widower and everything that came with his position as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Mr. Potter tuned back into the topic of Lily Evans with a sympathetic sigh. His son was head over heals.
"And in third year, after the cauldron incident – you remember the cauldron incident, don't know?" James asked.
"I'll never forget it."
"That's what I thought." James shot his father a quick look and said, "Well, since that she's always says hello to me in the morning and then we actually having conversations…"
He and Lily weren't completely unaware of each other's existence. Quite the opposite, really. James' best friend, Sirius Black, had a twin, Jennifer Black. By default they saw and talked to each other often enough, but never about anything remarkably brilliant or deep. They were acquaintances; a friendly smile in the morning or distressed conversation about McGonagall's tough marking on their latest Transfiguration assignment; though maybe a bit closer than that.
Another reason they knew each other was also because another of Lily's friends, Melissa Gorman. She was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as was James himself, Sirius and Jen. The last three had grown up playing Quidditch together and were quite pleased to all be picked, albeit in different years. With Remus Lupin, a very close friend of James and Sirius', commentating, they couldn't really escape each other… Not that they'd want to, of course.
James had had a small crush on Lily near mid-fourth year. Every time she would talk to him or smile his way in the corridors, he'd feel light-headed and occasionally bump into something. Sirius, his best friend and usually mistaken brother, constantly made fun of him for his clumsiness after such occurrences.
But this year he planned to gather up some Gryffindor courage and not be a clumsy idiot… no, not this year. He'd talk to her and not slur his words, he'd walk by her and not stumble… and best yet, he would work beside her and not mess up!
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"Lily, you have everything you need for tomorrow, right?" Lily's mother called from the first floor. Lily was in her room, checking her luggage. "I don't want to be rushing around at six in the morning looking for quills and a book that bites. Honestly, it dug a hole in the backyard! Your father nearly lost his hand trying to retrieve it!" Mrs. Evans ranted on about what happened that morning before third year. While ranting, she scoured the house for any lost magical items that Lily used while doing her homework.
"Yes mum, I know!" Lily exclaimed, standing up and stomping to her door. She poked her head out and said, "And I apologized to her!" Her mother had now recollected Mrs. Evans' the packing experience before fifth year. "Really, Petunia wasn't even aware that she resembled a squid!" Lily said, nearly laughing. She really should have gotten a picture of it. "The Ministry came and cleared it all up." Lily started getting annoyed when her mother huffed down below. She went back to her trunk. "There's a reason for them being called "Accidental Magic" you know." After closing it, she began to get ready for bed. Not that going to bed would aid her quest for sleep, but at least she'd try. She had never slept a wink the night before the train ride to Hogsmeade station and she didn't expect tonight to be any different.
"Stupid before school jitters," she muttered before turning off her light. Lily smiled, remembering that tomorrow she wouldn't be turning off lamps, but snuffing out candles.
Lily lay in bed looking at her cheep glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling. She lay on her back, right arm in the air, index finger pointing out all the constellations. Lily always had the glow in the dark stars, but when she returned after her first year at school, she had re-arranged them to form the springtime night sky. It had taken a lot of time, but in the end she was proud with her work and would lay on her bed staring at them for long periods of time before nodding off to sleep. They made her feel like she was in the Great Hall, where the ceiling seemed to open to the heavens.
She smiled and thought of how she was going back to her world. No more electricity, no more immobile staircases and most of all: no more Muggles.
In hopes of doing something more productive than pointing out Orion's Belt and the Big Dipper, she decided to write a letter. Out of all the ideas that formed in her head, it seemed the best. She had mentally argued with herself that finding each the constellations she made five years prior was review for Astronomy… but the bored part of her won the battle. Sure, it was two in the morning, but she wasn't being amused. Lily sat at her desk littered with pictures of friends all waving at her or having a snowball fight. Chuckling when her picture self received a large ball of snow in the face, she took out some parchment, a quill and ink from her neatly packed trunk, and started writing a letter.
After finishing a good ten minutes later and deciding it was ok and in no need to be written over, she tied the letter to her barn owl's leg. She let Psyche out the window, sat on the cushions of her bay window and watched the bird fly east until the speck that was her owl in the sky disappeared.
Lily leaned back on a closed window and watched the real stars wink at her in the inky black sky. She wrapped her arms loosely around her knees and leaned her head back. Sighing contentedly, she smiled and closed her eyes. Who knew if he'd be awake this time of night or whether Psyche would peck on his window until he awoke, but she hoped to get a reply before the next morning.
This would be where Mr. Evans would find her in the morning: sleeping on her window seat, one arm hanging out and in the early sun. Her other hand would be holding a piece of parchment, hair moving gently in the breeze. Psyche asleep on her knee would complete the look of beauty that he saw in his daughter.
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