Prologue
Lily Evans sat solitarily by the water, feeling tragically alone and knowing fully she should move before she caught her death. Saddened, unsure of herself, wishing for a friend, she swung her legs through the cloudy waters of the lake, and wondered if the world was okay like this, if she was okay. She knew she'd wake up tomorrow, and she would look over at James, and everything would be right again, but, for now, she was simply lost.
In her lap lay the faded blue-jean journal that she had once considered a friend, a loving confidante who wouldn't disagree with every word she spoke. The words inside felt distant now, like lies or like a prior life she no longer connected with. She traced the two words she had once scrawled across the cover, and she felt as if she was freezing up and slowly, slowly dying. She didn't know how to fix it, to heal it; more so, she didn't know how to go about dying for what she had once been.
Was it necessary to be so alone, she wondered, to be so broken, to become so fragile? Could it have been different, and still be the same? She couldn't remedy herself now, not after her life had changed so drastically.
It had been five months since her world had shifted into a summersault of words and thoughts and feelings. If she could erase it, she wouldn't have. Knowing that, she pulled her feet out of the water, bent them in front of her and studied the exact color of red she had painted them two days prior. She yawned widely, and thought about how she wanted a cigarette, though she knew it was better not to smoke one. She pulled a black boot over her toes, over her heel, over her cold, wet feet, and tied it with slow precision, then proceeded to repeat the action on the other foot.
She wasn't sure she remembered how to stand, though she did so anyway, looking into the lake and hoping she wouldn't fall. Her grip on the notebook drew blood back from her fingers, turning them a paler white then they had formerly been, though Lily barely noticed it. But as her knees locked straight, she couldn't stop the flick of her wrist that surprised her so much that she lost hold of the denim and sent the journal flying right into the lake.
She wasn't sure she had ever meant to do it, and she didn't know if it mattered, and for a moment, all she wanted was someone to hold her, to love her, to tell her it was ok. And she closed her eyes and slowly, slowly, slowly imagined the notebook with all her thoughts and the two words "Always May" fading into the deepest depths of the water.
She bit her lip, turned back to face Hogwarts castle, and decided to never ever wish upon a sun-bright day again.
A/N: This is Always May, rewritten. I'm in the process, and have been for several months now, of reworking the entire story from the mess I started writing two years ago into a more organized, perhaps more conventional fanfiction novel. Before, May was really just a tempest of words, each disconnected from all the rest, and I've always been okay with that. Lately, I've come across a higher standard for what I write. I can no longer leave posted what I had. I originally posted this on I will probably continue to post new chapters there until I reach chapter thirteen in the rewrites. I may or may not then erase it from their database.
I currently have a great deal of pride in this story, so feel free to tear all that down. Review with your worst. It's character-building.