Hypocrites Always Fall in Love

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this (except most of the plot, and the characters you don't recognize). It all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Two- How to Survive the Torture of Being Eleven

The next day, a very tired Lily Evans clambered out of her bed. As she stood in front of the mirror, she sleepily tried to tame her annoying wavy locks. She was having no luck, though. Especially with a bit of hair knotted together the size of a baseball. She stared at the maple paneling of the mirror, the intricate engravings flowing artistically around the frame, as if it would bare the secret of how to get baseball-sized knots out of people's hair.

Finally, after getting dressed (and her hair under control) Lily went downstairs for breakfast. She passed Petunia's room and heard her muttering something about Vernon, her boyfriend (Dursley. Lily truly disliked the boy. He had always been so annoying, like a woodpecker that kept pecking trees, only he wouldn't stop knocking on the Evans' door). It sounded very much like; "I do. I do! Of course I'll love him all my life, what do you think I am stupid?" Lily was tempted to go into Petunia's room and answer the question from her subconscious mind for her, but thought better of it. Being the younger sibling meant that she would get blamed. For everything.

Her parents were always slightly amused with the way Lily behaved, though. They're so sweet to see it my way, Lily thought, biting back an evil grin. Her dear parents were sometimes puzzled with things that happened though, as was Lily. Unusual things. Sometimes she felt like part a of freak show and she was the main attraction. Strange things would happen whenever she was angry or upset. Once, it had been truly funny when Lily somehow made Christopher Munning (the boy who sat behind her in class) end up in the chili pot in the school kitchens. Although it hadn't been nearly as hiliarious when she and her parents were called to a conference with the headmaster. All Lily had been thinking was that she was hungry, and that Christopher needed to stop throwing spitballs at her. But since no one could prove she had done it, she was let off. Boy did her parents scold her for that one. Blimey, she was probably still grounded for that.

But they had their reasons. The Evans had always had a reputation of being overachievers and fairly good athletes. Lily always tried to live up to those standards, but sports got the better of her. She wasn't all that talented when you put a soccer ball in front of her, but she didn't see the point to sports anyway. Sports had to be imaginative to catch her attention. Soccer didn't really intrigue her. What was so amazing about people kicking around a ball?

Despite their upstanding reputation, the Evan's weren't the most well off in England. That title belonged to some family dynasty by the name of Potter. Lily didn't pay much attention to it, but her father bragged about getting compared to them at least once a week, even though they were considered slightly odd since their children were being home schooled and all. Though it did make good press for her father's newspaper when he interviewed the Potters, well, Mr. Daniel Potter, every month. His monthly column, "The Potters' 700 Secrets to Success" went very well with the public. Regardless of this fact, she had never met one of the Potters, and never intended to. She could write a whole biography about the Potter line with everything she'd heard about them from her father. The Potters were her father's idols. He was convinced that in 5 years, he would be just as successful as them, and really be in their league. It wasn't like they were poor or anything. Lily's father just had somewhat impossible dreams.

Now, Lily's mother was much more practical. Her goals were fairly realistic. She was a book-keeper, for now, though. But she knew she was ready for bigger and better things. Lily's mother was writing her first novel. Well, she was in the process of it. Her mother, Christine Evans, was sometimes doubtful of her talent. But Lily had complete confidence in her mom; after analyzing literature for a hobby there was no one in her mind better suited for such a career.

Lily headed down stairs trying to keep these heavy topics out of her mind. Both her parents had off of work today to help Lily plan what she wanted to do for her birthday. It was one of the few hot, humid, summer days she wouldn't have to spend inside all day with Petunia.

She slipped into her chair at the table and looked around. No mother cooking a breakfast of bacon and eggs on the hot griddle for her father. Where could they be?

The bewildered 10 year old shuffled out of the kitchen to the den, in search if her parents. She found them frantically pulling on their shoes, and hopping towards the door.

"Mom, Dad, where are you going?" Lily asked quietly, predicting in her head their answers.

"Lil," her father addressed her slowly," The manager from the Daily Examiner called. He told me that the reporter covering the Potters column didn't get enough information to fill the slot. So I've got to go interview the Potters at their annual social luncheon."

"And Mum has to go with you?"

"Well... Mr.Potter requested to meet her, apparently he found out about the book she's writing, and he's interested in publishing it."

"Muuummm. It's not fair! You promised you'd stay home today! No matter what," Lily sulkily replied.

Mrs.Evans looked guiltily at Mr.Evans.

"You've got to understand, Lily! This could be your Mum's big break!"

"Yeah, alright," she said still not forgiving them, "But don't forget my birthday."

Her father chuckled.

"That's my little angel...now you be good, and don't annoy our sister, or wake her up."

Lily rolled her eyes.

Either they didn't see this, or they ignored it. Her father opened the door, and moved outside, holding it for her mother.

"Bye Lulabell," her mother smiled lovingly as she closed the door, "Don't worry. We'd never forget your birthday."

"Sure, Mum. Bye." Lily said back, still feeling betrayed.

She heard a loud grunt from upstairs. Probably Petunia waking up, she thought miserably. She steadied herself, and got ready for a day of torture from Petunia.

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July 22nd was not a normal day for eleven year old James. His parents had shipped him off to Sirius's house the night before. Said something about him getting in the way of their annual luncheon. Yeah, right. James was as harmless as a fly. Well, except for the time he broke all those plates...Or the time where the dungbomb went off on the Minster of Magic's head...Oh, and we can't forget the time he drove one of his nannies insane in less than 3 days that she quit...but that was with Sirius's help...oh but this all beside the point. James had never been to one of those luncheons, and he wanted to go. Just to see what it was like. It wasn't like he would set anyone's hair on fire...exception of maybe one of the muggles because he had three unused cases of fireworks.

He stared at Sirius across from him, and wondered why he was eating his breakfast so fast. Sirius's father, Chistopher, also stared at his ravenous eating pattern.

Sirius looked up to see two disgusted people gawking at him. He had a bit of egg hanging from his mouth.

"What?"

"Nothing, Sirius, nothing." Mr. Black said ignoring his son's questions.

"No! What?" Sirius questioned, clearly confused.

"So...getting your Hogwarts letters today?" Mr. Black asked James, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah! I can't wait." James said fervently, tearing his eyes away from Sirius, who had cleared away his plate. His mother walked in, astonished that Sirius had finished his breakfast so quickly. She looked at him in disbelief.

"WHAT?" Sirius yelled, wondering why everyone was staring at him.

"Nothing, dear. Excited about getting your letters today boys?" Nima Black asked, amused with their response.

"Mom? Do you think I'm a squib?" Sirius's voice rang out

James stifled a laugh as he thought of how Mrs. Black could possibly answer. It was obvious that Sirius was trying to make her feel sorry for him in order to get something he wanted. That was the only way things worked for Sirius. He whines, he gets.

"Nooo...What on earth would give you the idea that you were a squib?" she responded falling for the bait. "Squibs belong to weaker wizarding families. There's not a chance of it."

"It's just...well...all the real wizards have good brooms, and mine, I…I..." he feigned, bottom lip trembling, "I can't find it!"

"Sirius," she began sweetly, but it soon evolved into..."I'VE TOLD YOU MILLION TIMES THAT IF YOU LOST YOUR BROOM AGAIN, I WOULDN'T BE REPLACING IT! DON'T GIVE THAT 'I'M A SQUIB' NOSENSE. I'M NOT FALLING FOR IT! ...ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU TRIED TO USE THAT DECOY LAST WEEK!"

Sirius began to whine like a little girl that had just been told she couldn't have her favorite doll.

"Oh...Don't start with me Sirius! You do not need a replacement for a broom you got last month."

"But Mooommmm..."

"Puh-lease Sirius! You can do better than that!" James said, encouraging the quarrel. Mr. Black gave James a look.

Sirius grinned a haughty smile.

"Oh, honestly... you two are going to drive me crazy!" said Mrs. Black, feeling exasperated.

"Which is exactly where they want you, dear. Then they'll proceed in driving me up the wall," Mr. Black responded, helping himself to some more bacon.

The two pranksters shared a devilish glance and an equally evil smile.

Mrs. Black sighed, not even bothering to tell them off.

Mr. Black picked up his empty bowl, eager to get away from the table, guessing that his wife was feeling particularly murderous at the moment. He silently washed his bowl, while the boys began whispering about some prank they were going to pull off. He didn't get a good vibe from this. Neither did the Missus it appeared. She was staring into space as though she was devising her own little prank. Mr. Black placed his silverware into the dishwasher, and snorted.

Then, quite suddenly, all eyes were on him.

"Sirius... this is the third time this week," he exclaimed, in an almost furious manner. "Why do you continue to place your broomstick in the dishwasher?"

"That's not a dishwasher!" Sirius defended. "It's for broomsticks! It says 'Broom-master 3000'! BROOMsticks! 'BROOM-master' 3000! It makes sense!"

"It would, Sirius," James fought away the instinct to laugh, "If it really wasn't a dishwasher! Even I know it's a dishwasher!"

"And that's saying something, Sirius! James has got almost less of a brain than you!" Regulus, Sirius' brother, managed to say, even though he had just appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey!" the spoken responded indigently, "Have not!"

"Boys, boys! Settle down. Now Chistopher, dear, I've got to go Diagon Alley for a bit... but I want you to watch these two. Okay?" intervened Mrs. Black.

Mr. Black nodded in response.

"Of course, until Ashley arrives."

"Do I have to spend the whole day with Sirius?" Little Regulus asked, in a whining voice.

Sirius looked highly insulted.

"Hey, it's no bed of roses for me either, sweetie!"

Then, Mrs. Black headed out the door, she gave Mr. Black the sign that said perfectly; 'Keep them in line.'

And as Sirius geared up to take another blow to Regulus, James held him back by the arm.

"Don't," he hissed, "Don't say anything. With your Dad watching us, that means we'll get to sneak into Mom and Dad's luncheon!"

Sirius's eyes were as round as saucers. He uttered his famous words for the very first time.

"What'll be the damage, mate?"