Disclaimer: I don't hold any claim to any of the characters except Emmeline. The plot is mine, all mine! *holds story to her chest*
A/N: This Chapter is dedicated to Mother Cat for her enthusiasm towards my story, and to my poor sick friend, Caitlin. Get well soon!
A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. I wanted to post something before the weekend, but this is all I had time for dure to the excessive amount of homework. Plus I found a couple of really good fan fictions.
A/N: Depressed Lily for most of this chapter. But don't worry, she morphs into evil Lily by the end.
A/N: And as you've probably guessed, I'm trying to make this chapter seem longer with my author's notes.
Chapter 4
Thursday 4th November- 6:30pm
I didn't go to classes today. I stayed in the Gryffindor Tower and read my favourite tragedy novel. Emmeline gave me some instructions what to do to catch up, from my Professors, but I didn't even look at it. I tried to lie on my bed with Slinky, but even she got bored of that after a while. It was raining for the entire day, so I couldn't draw much. I found that wandering the corridors when no one is around is very peaceful. It's nice, like the corridors are taking a deep breath after the last rush of students.
I didn't go down to dinner either, which is on at the moment. I think my head would explode from the mindless chatter. Do they really think anything they say means anything? Who cares which boy is hottest, or how much homework you have to do. I know this is probably just the depression talking, but WHO GIVES A DAMN! They all get so hysterical over the stupidest of things. There are people out there killing the innocent. I read the Daily Prophet for the first time yesterday. I mean properly. Front to back. Dumbledore was right, there are groups out there. No one seems to think it's a big deal though. So I've made a decision. When I leave school, I'm going to fight these groups. Perhaps Dumbledore can help me get started. Surely there's some group out there who feels the same way as me. But in the meantime, I'll have to focus on smaller things. Like surviving the funeral tomorrow. I have to leave in an hour. Professor McGonagall is going to escort me into Hogsmeade, where I will floo to London. I'm not taking much. I might leave this behind. I don't trust myself not to burn this or fill the pages up with violent pictures. But I should be back some time on Sunday.
Monday 8th November-8:10pm
The funeral was unbearable. Everyone cried, but half of them barely knew my aunt. My mother was the saddest, Aunt Harriet being her only sister. She also had a brother, but he lived overseas, working for some big company. He didn't even come to his sister's funeral.
Dad was holding my mum's hand to comfort her, but he only looked politely mournful of Aunt Harriet. Petunia was looking as sour as ever. She had made it very clear that morning that she was very unhappy about attending the funeral. She had to cancel a date with Vernon, but I think that was just the excuse she was using.
I ached all throughout the service. The bouquets of flowers brought by the family and friends seemed oddly out of place in the room of black cloaks and wooden furniture. I tried to imagine someone having a wedding in the church, tried to imagine bright gowns and happy faces filling the benches, but that imagine fitted as ill as the flowers. I stayed behind after everyone had filed out of the church. I could hear them laughing and talking outside, as if it was now alright to be happy again. I walked up to the front where Aunt Harriet's coffin lay. I gazed at the flowers, trying to feel glad that so many people had come, or that so many people had brought flowers, but it didn't work. I read some of the cards with the flowers, avoiding my relatives outside. I stopped on one of the cards, staring at it with disbelief.
Many condolences to the family of Harriet Weaver.
From the Potter family.
The card was attached to a huge bouquet of lilies and small blue flowers. I felt a sharp pain in my jaw and realised I had been clenching my teeth. How dare he! I bet it was him who chose the lilies. I bet he was hoping I would see it, that I might be charmed by his 'consideration'. I wondered if his family even knew about me or my aunt. Ti only proved how much of a he is, using my aunt's death to try and woo me. I dropped the card, willing it to burst into flames. But it just laid there, the words seemingly mocking me. Many condolences… I left the church with a new resolve. Potter was going to regret the day he so much as looked at me. He was going to pay… very slowly and painfully.
On the way home I occupied myself with dreaming up ways to embarrass and annoy Potter. A Howler would have been great, but I didn't think students were allowed to send them and my voice would surely be recognised. Besides, there was no way I could have hid my glee at seeing Potter being humiliated in front of the entire school. I finally figured out what to do. Not that I'll tell you just yet.
Tuesday 9th November- 6pm
After I finished writing in this last night, Emmeline came to sit with me. She said she was really sorry she hadn't been around in my 'time of need', and promised to spend more time with me. I was very glad to hear this. I needed comfort and she was the only one that I could ask. Hey, I wasn't about to ask James if I could borrow his hanky again!
I started going to classes again on Monday. It made things easier, to have a schedule. I had far less time to brood over the people who had killed my aunt. As for Potter, I took to glaring at him every time he caught my eye. Emmeline said it was mean of me, but I thought he deserved every single glare, plus a surprise or two.
Sunday 14th November- 11pm
I have implemented my plan. It's not as good as the Marauders', but it'll have to do. The first thing I had to do was get hold of James' Potions essay. With a bit of help from Emmeline, I pinched it out of his bag. I used a charm to change the words to 'James Potter is a pratt'. This message repeated itself hundreds of times to fill up the parchment where his essay had once been. The only words that were not changed were the title with James' name signed in the corner of the page. Satisfied that this would be enough to keep James off my case whilst he hurried to re-do the essay for Tuesday's lesson, I slipped it back into his bag. Half an hour later there was a roar from the common room. I hurried down to watch the show. The show that I had started.
"Where the hell is it?" yelled James at Sirius, brandishing the Potions essay.
"In your hand, James," answered Sirius, grinning at his friend.
"This is not my Potions essay. Not any more. LOOK at it!" He shoved the parchment under Sirius' nose.
Sirius broke into a huge grin when he read it. "Looks pretty, um… reasonable, I would think. I didn't know you had such a brilliant mind, James. You will certainly pass Potions with this piece of gold."
Remus and Peter sniggered at this, having read the essay over Sirius' shoulder.
"Come on Sirius, this isn't funny. It's due on Tuesday." James pleaded, having calmed down from the initial shock.
"Don't look at me mate. As much as I would like to take credit for this, this wasn't my doing."
"Well whose was it?" James glared at Peter and Remus.
"Hey, wasn't me," said Remus, still smiling.
"Nor mine," Peter added.
James turned back to Sirius. "Do you swear on your honour as a Marauder that you had nothing to do with this?" James demanded.
"Fine." James obviously took this as a sign that Sirius was innocent. As if the Marauders had enough honour to swear on. "I'll leave this here until the morning. I expect it to be… fixed by the morning." He placed the essay on the table he had been working at and stomped off to his dormitory.
Later that night after everyone had gone to bed, I snuck down and wrote a small message, but I did not remove the charm.
Sorry James, but it's for your own good. If your head had gotten much bigger, you wouldn't have been able to get through the Portrait Hole.
A/N: Thanks to my reviewers. Please let me know if there is something you would really like to see happen.