Well, this is my first fanfiction, so…….ya. A few things I would like to say beforehand:
This story is dedicated to "duckie" a.k.a. Talya, who is the only friend of mine who enjoys (more like – and I quote - worships) Fanfiction (we both talk about it constantly). She listens to my frequent talks to myself (I bet she thinks I'm schizophrenic by now) and got me to sit my lazy butt down and write a crappy fanfiction.
Special thanks to Kate who helped me (despite her extreme dislike for fanfiction) through a tough part in the story (several toughie's actually)
You know what? I wouldn't be surprised if this author's note is longer than the story, so, without further ado (unfortunately), my story:
By the end of third year I had stopped trying to be nice to him. I was never the Dali Lama (imagine how dreadful I'd look bald), but I tried. Really, I did.
Potter just irked me. He possessed the black belt in, "The art of getting under Lily Evan's skin."
Third year. Wow.
Third year proved…memorable. That year, my limited tolerance for Potter and his friends morphed into passionate loathing. In that span of time (which I wisely labeled "When My Bad Karma Showed it's True Nature"), all his highly annoying habits became revolting to me. Previously, I'd endured Potter (to a point) and even attempted civil conversations with him (occasionally). Why, in second year, we had a truce and formed a shaky friendship, even if it did only last for a day or two.
But third year was different. Over the summer, James Potter's all-around awfulness had escaladed, in fact, it had risen so much that his former title of reigning arrogant, egoistical, self-centered, pompous git became somewhat of an understatement.
But the most annoying thing? Everyone possessed the complete opposite opinion when it came to him.
How to relate my third year at Hogwarts? Well, the platform itself bore an interesting memory:
Pecking mum and dad on the cheek, I turned to face the barrier. Intimidating as ever, the structure towered over me, the wall between two immensely different worlds.
'Lily,' I chided myself, 'it's a brick column, just make a run for it and you be on the platform.' Jeez, I wasn't a first year. I strode forward, and made an effort to look nonchalant as I stepped into the barrier. Of course, once I had decided to hide my apprehension, I had to trip.
Damn it. So much for nonchalant.
I found myself sprawled out of top of someone, who was busy issuing muffled shrieks from below. My green eyes followed my baggage as they soared off the floor and in the direction of a boy with suspiciously messy hair. Shit.
"Oy Peter! Finally landed yourself a girl, eh?"
My head swung round to glare at Sirius as I felt my face redden. My thoughts turned to disgust. I had landed on non other than the marauder's tag-long, Peter Pettigrew.
I frantically scrambled around, in fruitless attempts to find my feet. Someone caught my arm and pulled me to a standing position.
With a hurried thanks, my attention returned to Potter.
"James Potter! Drop the baggage with your hands up!"
"Are you sure you want me to, Evans?" Argh.
"Yes." Teasing never sat well with me early in the morning.
"Are you sure you're sure?"
"No Potter, feel free to raid my trunks. By the way, my diary's in the big one."
"Thanks Evans!"
"Note the sarcasm."
"Oh. Still want me to drop your stuff?"
"Guess Potter." As I said, don't mess with Lily Evans in the morning.
"If you insist." He flashed me an impish grin that told me all was not well in the mind of James Potter. I shut my eyes and prayed for my belongings (which I doubt would of helped, 'cause if some one up there liked me, I wouldn't of landed on Peter Pettigrew in the first place.)
My luggage shot into the air, came to a standstill a few feet above his pretty little head, then dropped. Of course, by then we had gathered an audience, and all around us people cringed as the trunks collided with the platform's extremely hard floor.
I promptly summoned them, and glared at Potter. His laughing stopped, but he continued to grin.
"So, now you need a crowd to watch your little magic tricks?" I felt the blood rushing to my face for the second time that day, but now for an entirely different reason.
"Whatcha gonna do about it, Evans?"
"This." I slapped him. Hard. Well, as hard as I could, but it had the desired affect nonetheless. I stared at him one last time, the boarded the Hogwarts Express. In the background, I heard him mutter,
"Girls."
A/n: Well, there it is, I hope you drew some enjoyment from it, even if it's the "this story is so bad it's funny" kind and you laughed shamelessly at the author's lack of just about everything. (Hey, that's half the reason we go on fanfiction, right?)
If in any place the letter "n" is forgotten in a word, it's because my "n" key hates me and only bothers to type the letter half the time. I try to go back and fix all of the mistakes it creates, but every once and a while I'll miss one (for example, the computer won't catch "even" without the n, cause it's still a word – eve.)
A second chapter is almost (note the almost) finished, and will be up soon (definitely within the next day or two, for Talya will kill me without hesitation if I fail to update frequently)