Llef ylil yhw -By Yo-yo

Disclaimer: C chappie #1.

A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews and I'm really sorry I took so long. My senior year is really sucky and college applications are a bitch! I've decided I'm dropping out of skool and not going to college. I'm not touching another application that needs me to write my name. They're going to enroll me with the wrong name anyway! Well good luck you guys.

And I forget your name, but the person that requested the All American Reject's lead singer, I totally agree! My friend got his guitar pick Warped Tour and I'm so jealous. We call him "Pretty Eyez," I don't even know his real name (don't re-send it to me b/c just generally I'm horrible with names. My own brother has to tell me which bands I like b/c I always forget their names and who sang what song)! "Pretty Eyez" is on my husband list. B/c of hot guys like him, I totally believe in polygamy!

Chapter 7- Missing:

She swam further and further from the depths of slumber and awakened beneath the warm embrace of her hand-woven comforter. A deep sigh emitted from her lips as she lay transfixed beneath the warm folds, listening to the meticulous sounds of her four roommates' breathing.

Last night had been horrible.

After the fight with James she'd returned to the highest Astronomy tower and watched dawn's little fingers begin to crawl over the horizon. When she finally decided there was no way she could sneak back into her room without detection from Filch and his new kitten deemed Mrs. Norris, she stealthily made her way towards the Gryffindor tower, praising Merlin that the Fat Lady was still there.

She didn't cry.

She'd made a promise to herself a long time ago that James Potter wasn't worth her tears. He'd been a jerk far too long for her to dwell on it, and if she let it get to her it'd only cause more strife.

She just sat there, numb. She'd finally told him . . . finally let him know what it felt like to be her at that moment. He finally knew what it was to be a Muggle thrown into the world of magic, the world that they knew nothing about. She'd finally expressed to him what he made her feel . . . what she had concealed inside of her for six years.

Beneath the canopy of her four-poster, she felt protected by the thick, cream-colored tapestry. It was warm- safe- like a mother's womb, sleep slowly ebbing at her, making her guttural yawn rip through the still air. Because of its depth, light couldn't filter in, but it still seemed to illuminate the space around her as if she were lying on a ball of cotton with golden ribbon wrapping around her.

Pressing her face to the side of her pillow, she let a tear escape its barrier. She wouldn't cry; she would just wet her eyes a little . . . to keep them moist.

She had to get up. Sure, she wasn't a fan of morning, but she couldn't sit there anymore. She couldn't let the hurt eat at her anymore, she couldn't focus on the pain anymore- she needed to get away.

Pushing aside the thick coverings, she was slapped by the cool air, whooshing into the four-poster, and wrapping its frigid, bony fingers around her.

"Shit," she groaned, shivering involuntarily, her eyes snapping to the opened window beside Sunny's bed.

Sighing in resolve, she crawled from beneath the covers, pulling a grey sweatshirt over her tank.

Placing her feet on the stone floor, she gasped in shock and immediately retracted them. Pulling her knees to her chin, she wrapped her arms around her shins and her eyes swiveled towards the fireplace. It seemed the wind had blown out the fire, causing the dormitory's floor to literally freeze.

She lifted her hands to her hair slowly, pushing back the tangled, orange curls. Her clear green eyes searched the floor for her fuzzy blue slippers with the yellow duck on the toes.

She spotted them.

They were lying on the floor beside Sunny's bed; the girl who'd left the bloody window open.

She looked for something else to put on her feet, but soon realized that everything required her to step from the bed onto the painfully cold floor. Onto the floor so cold that it felt as if someone was stabbing needles through her feet.

"Sunny . . . Sunny . . ." she called.

She paused for a moment, only to be answered by a still silence.

"Sunny . . . Sunny . . ." she called again, this time a muted ruffling sound answering her calls of distress.

"Sunny!"

"What?" she cried, stumbling out of bed.

"Oh, Shit!" Sunny groaned, jumping back onto her mattress.

She looked horrible. Her short, usually stylishly cut hair was twisted and tangled to form impossible bed-head. Her eyes were wet and glazed- she hadn't wiped away the sleep- and her brown skin was ashy.

"Can you bring me my slippers?" she asked with the most innocent voice she could procure.

"You want your damn slippers?" Sunny asked glaring at her.

"Yesh pleash," she lisped, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You can have your damn slippers!" Sunny reached down and grabbed the slippers, throwing them at Lily, aiming for her head.

Lily ducked and caught them easily, her years of softball preparing her for that one day. She was softly chuckling by the time she had slipped them on her feet.

"Thanks." She grinned.

"Oh, go to hell!" Sunny mumbled, pulling her curtains back to shield her from the bitter cold.

Placing her slippered feet on the floor and she stretched.

She felt something fall on her head.

Letting her fingers graze over her curls in a blind search, she figured it was nothing. Shrugging, she stood up and suddenly what felt like a fifty gallon bucket of water gushed down on her, drenching her entire frame.

Giggles erupted from the "sleeping" girls, and she could see their inquisitive heads poking out of their curtains.

"Fuck!" she screeched, "That was cold water! Who the hell did this?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sunny giggled, "I needed you to hand me a towel!"

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, the sound of four girls' screams soon pierced throughout Gryffindor tower.


Her head lay heavily on the scrubbed wooden table as she clenched her eyes shut, determined to ignore the mind numbing pain of the migraine that had revealed itself a few moments before she'd awakened.

The migraine, coupled with the blinding glint of the diamond in the sunlight didn't help to reduce the pounding of her brain against her skull painfully.

Ever since the night of Sunny and Alice's respective dates, she'd been feeling herself fall into a bout of depression. When Allie had returned with a large grin on her pretty face and showed them the ring catching light on her left hand, everyone gasped and she finally realized that was something she was never going to have.

She was never going to have a Frank Longbottom. She was never going to have someone that great, that special, that in-love with her.

Once, she thought she did. But she was young, stupid. She didn't understand that love wasn't as easy as a cute boy who also likes you. And when she finally did, she didn't like the outcome.

As usual, a parliament of owls flew into the Grand Hall, showering the students with letters and parcels. And as usual, Noctem, Lily's ebony owl came swooping in with a letter from her parents and another letter, which she guessed was from Tuny.

"Thanks Noctem," she smiled, stroking the ugly owl atop its head.

Unfurling the letter from her parents, she scanned the letter and a small smile tickled her lips. It was the usual: news on Petunia, Da's weekly advice, the next parcel of chocolate is on its way, news about Douggie and Mum's rambling about not eating too much chocolate and brushing her teeth after every meal (referring to Lily's second and third years when she had to wear those ugly, metal braces and was constantly being chided by the orthodontist about the stuck peanuts and caramel).

Unfolding the next letter, she smiled. Petunia had sprayed her favorite perfume onto the stationary with little Petunia's dancing around the elegantly scripted name. Letting the soft scent of White Lace calm her senses, she perused Tuny's letter, which, like her parents, contained the usual. She broke up with Peter Mollohan and was currently with Adam Johnson. She rambled on about the impossible goals her teachers were setting for her, how the girls at her school were such sluts, how she couldn't wait to leave the house and how much she wished Lily was beside her so she could yell at her to her face.

Placing both letters in her bag, she grabbed a couple of strips of bacon and left the Grand Hall, just as the Marauders decided to grace the gargantuan chamber.


"Faster, faster!" she bellowed, rage booming from her voice.

He groaned, urging the solid wooden apparatus to move faster, his head already banging from her shouts.

"Potter, I don't even want to see you!" she shouted. "You should be a blur to me and everyone in the crowd. They should be thinking you're the Snitch by how fast you go!"

Picking up speed, James ground his teeth together and shifted his broom. Since the incident with Fly and Sirius, she'd been like a hemorrhoid on his ass. She'd driven them farther than she'd ever done, and wouldn't let anyone fail her. Practice last night had persisted for five hours because the rookies, Ashley and Jacob, hadn't seemed to grasp the freefalling concept. So she kept the entire team until they'd succeeded.

The next morning was their first game against Ravenclaw, and he was pretty sure he'd fall off his broom from exhaustion before the first five minutes were up.

"Potter!"

"My broom's not fast enough!" he finally snapped. "I'm sorry if I can't be a blur, but my broom isn't fast enough!"

"Well then get another broom," she retorted lamely, slightly taken aback by his seething tone.

"I'm sorry but the Astro200 IS the fastest broom. I'm so sorry that they haven't created a broom fast enough for your liking." He shouted sarcastically.

She'd been shouting for days now, he was surprised her voice hadn't failed her yet.

Groaning, he thought back to the entire week. It had been hell. Lily and Fly had stopped talking to both he and Sirius. Sunny had stopped talking to all four of the Marauders, and Remus had stopped talking to Sunny.

They didn't even sit beside one another anymore. They now sat at opposite ends of the table during their meals.

Through their classes together, the girls sat on one side of the classroom and the boys on the other. Even the limited conversion with Remus and Peter hadn't helped in bringing them any closer together.

Potter sighed to himself. Over the past couple of years he'd grown accustomed to having the girls around. During their first year the two groups hardly mingled, but after Lily had learned that Remus was a werewolf, the two groups sort of merged. Soon they were almost inseparable. They helped each other with schoolwork. The girls were always an unlimited resource of good advice, no matter how devious or serious. In some cases, the girls were better allies than the Marauders themselves. They were always great to hang out with, in some ways keeping the Marauders out of serious trouble and making sure they didn't become too enthralled with their pranks.

He missed them criticizing the way that he and Sirius treated girls. He missed the way that they constantly argued over trivial things and how close they became when their friendship was tried. He missed the way Lily would argue with him over simple subjects. He missed the way Sunny would pout just to get her way. He even missed the way Fly would yell at them on the Quidditch pitch, urging them to do better but secretly pleased by his excellence.

A high pitched whistled screamed through his reverie and brought him down to earth (literally).

As soon as his feet crashed to the floor, he hurtled to the locker room, completely bypassing the rest of the team and ignoring Fly's post- practice wrap-up.

The first drop of scalding water licked his naked back and immediately relaxed him. He let all the stress from the day drain from his over-worked limbs and swirl down the drain.

Of course none of the guys ever voiced their upheaval over the entire situation, but he could sense- feel- the awkwardness. It was on his skin, tickling the fine hairs on the back of his neck, pinching at his arms. Every time the guys suggested a new scheme, silence would follow, each one recalling a different memory of the girls reprimanding them and warning them of unseen dangers.

Letting the warm water drench over his head, he thought of the night when he and the Marauders had first become Anamagi. He remembered the way Lily sat on the ground before them, blanket wrapped around her legs, reams of parchment in her hand and a mug of warm chocolate to her lips. Her wand lay on her lap, ready for whatever calamity that would inevitably ensue. She had spent several nights with them before, perfecting their pronunciation of the spell; she'd helped concoct the potion; arrange the ceremony and was now meticulously overseeing the entire transformation.

He remembered the trepidation in her eyes that she thought he couldn't see. He remembered the way she nervously downed ten cups of chocolate in less than half an hour. He also remembered the way her face brightened with a mixture of amazement, triumphal and knowing as they all stood before her donned in pelt and snouts. He remembered the way she'd affectionately placed a kiss to each of them- even Peter the rat- and snuggled into their warm coats. He remembered the tears in her eyes and the sadness that she didn't get to experience this new world with her friends.

Extinguishing the taps, he grabbed a towel and began to dry off. He knew he'd be hearing about his abrupt exit for hours once he left, but he knew her words were empty . . . so was his heart.

When he was eleven, he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know she'd belonged to a Muggle home. He didn't know that her beautiful emerald eyes and her flaming red hair would be the ones that would be haunting his dreams for years to come. He didn't know that the look of contempt on her face would be the one that she'd eventually regard him with. He didn't know that someday he wanted to be the only one that wiped that look from her face. He didn't know that someday she would be the one that he fell in love with, and it would be that one stupid joke that would ensure their separation.


"Lily!"

" . . . Steven Tyler . . ." she moaned.

He stood before her, his tall, lanky body tempting her to reach out a hand and gently caress the firm contours of his chest. She wanted to press her body close to his and feel his arms wrap around her, holding her in an intimate embrace, wrapping her in security and warmth. She wanted to press her lips to his, brushing a prayer across his lips as he pulled her into a world of sheer and utter bliss.

"Lily!" the voice called again, faintly, but she just couldn't take her eyes from Tyler's kissable lips.

"LILY!" a myriad of voices called, waking her from her favorite dream.

"What?" she groaned quite rumpled, lifting her head from the pillow.

"Your damn mirror!" Fly called through her canopy, "Answer it!"

Not even bothering to open her eyes, she reached over to her nightstand and blindly felt around for the smooth, cool piece of gold and silver.

As soon a she flipped it open, James' voice was already whispering urgently,

"Lily, get downstairs, now!"

"Ugh," she groaned stumbling out of bed and out of the girls' dormitory.

In moments she was standing directly in front of James Potter's levitating head- the rest of him covered in his invisibility cloak- whose mouth currently hung open, shocked by her choice of bedtime dress.

"What?" she groaned shoved her red curls from her forehead, shivering in the cold.

"You sleep in that?" he asked, his eyes traveling her body almost obscenely.

"What are yo-" she began, but grew red in embarrassment.

She was wearing only a wife beater and boys' knickers which had little pictures of Spiderman tonight.

"Those are boys' knickers!"

"What in the hell do you want?" she asked, remembering to be callous.

"We need you-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Why are you asking me, go ask someone else!" she said turning her back to him, ready to get back to sleep and dream of Aerosmith and Steven Tyler.

"Lily, tonight's a full moon, and Remus really needs you."

"What happened?" she gasped, whirling around.

"I'll tell you on the way," he answered, glancing at her dress again. "I think you should grab a jacket or something."

Rolling her eyes she waved her wand and mumbled, "Accio jacket and sweatpants."

Immediately tugging on the items she rushed after James, knowing they wouldn't have called on her unless absolutely necessary.

TBC . . .

P. A/N: I don't like Steven Tyler, I just want you to know, but I couldn't think up a very sexy guy from the seventies, and if I asked one of my friends, they'd most likely say John Lennon, and then I'd have to shoot myself because he looks like Jesus and that's just weird.

And sorry for taking so long to write, but hey, don't worry, I wrote TWO chapters! Ok, only one really long one that I broke up into two. It wouldn't have taken so long if my friend (The one that went to Warped Tour and got the pick from my husband, "Pretty Eyez") hadn't broken up with her boyfriend (I hate him for getting her the tix), b/c I'm not supposed to talk to him anymore, so I couldn't find a song from him (he's in a band).

Read the next chapter and R&R please!

w/ luv, Yo-yo