Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR.

AN: Eek. I changed my mind again. Thankfully it didn't delete everything (i messed up with the chapter altering thing), but i still needed to repost this. I've got a plot again. Rejoice. So Ch3 is gone for good, though it may make a cameo appearance later, you never know. Anyway. Onwards...

Year 1

-

The letter had filled her with joy, fear and trepidation all in one.

She'd jumped and grinned and hugged her friends and parents, so excited and so ready for this great leap forward (a great leap forward into a whole new world - it shouldn't even be possible). She'd told her sister and watched the wonder well up in her eyes, watched the amazement crackle and burn before turning violently against her (her parents had said it was Petunia's hormones playing up, and it may be best to let her be until the morning). She'd listened to her parents arguing softly behind locked door, worried for their daughter. She'd heard them agree to send a letter and watched the following morning as they read the reply, amazement giving way to acceptance and pride.

But that night, that night before she went to meet someone to welcome her into this strange new world, that night before she went into a small pub with a strange name and bought spell books and cauldrons, that night she'd cried. Because it was beginning to sink in that she wouldn't be coming home to see her parents every night. She wouldn't hear to her sister's scandalous tales of boys and parties over dinner while her dad tried to pretend he wasn't listening. She wouldn't play netball in the park with her friends from school because she'd be somewhere else. Somewhere with mountains and forests and rivers and castles and magic but no Jane and Lisa. Would she even have friends at all? Would the people with names like Albus and Minerva and Rubeus think she was strange because she was named after a plant? Would that refuse to play with her because she didn't know what Gringotts was? She'd cried herself to sleep that night in fear that it wouldn't be as bright and beautiful as she wanted it to be, fear that she wouldn't fit in in this place she longed so much to belong.

The sun rose and the birds sang and she boarded a train with her parents into London, that daunting grey city with its pigeons and commuters and tall, tall, tall buildings. She'd not liked it much before, preferring the small town from which she came. London was big and loud and smelled really bad.

They'd walked and walked for what seemed like an age, her daddy had told her the name of the very famous road (Charing Cross Road, after an ancient cross placed by a king of old). It all looked the same to her and she was more scared than ever that she'd get lost in this magical world with no one there to guide her.

They walked and walked and suddenly they stopped. Her dad was looking from his parchment and ink map to the dirty grey wall, he'd frowned and given the map to Lily, asking her what she could see on that wall. And she'd told him she saw a door and a dirty grey sign saying 'Leakey Cauldron'. He had shook his head in amazement and perhaps it was in that moment, as the little girl pulled her parents through a seemingly solid brick wall, that they began to accept that they may be losing her to something greater. The thought had made her father sad.

-

His letter had been a day late.

He'd gone to bed that night in floods of tears, kicking, screaming and sobbing, demanding his parents promised he wasn't a squib. They'd promised but he'd been so afraid, Because Hogwarts was his destiny and he couldn't be separated from it! He needed to go there to make friends and learn magic and grow up to fight the bad guys like his father did. Even at eleven he wanted to save the world. He wanted to never wake up to the sound of his mum crying in fear again. He wanted to make things better and how could that happen if they didn't let him into Hogwarts?

But the next day, before the sun was even up, his parents came in with breakfast and a letter, carried in the claws of what could only be a Hogwarts owl.

James had doubted it was possible to be any happier.

That very day his parents had let him take his first unaccompanied Floo ride (he was a big boy now, soon to be a real wizard with a wand), he'd landed on the hearth of the Leaky Cauldron with a cough and a splutter and a face-full of shattered glass as his head slammed against the tiles. Nose bleeding he'd stood up and grinned at the whole pub while his mother fixed his glassed (so happy in the knowledge that one day soon he'd be able to fix them himself).

They'd trekked through the people, coming to a halt at the solid wall with its dustbins and secrets, his father unveiling the portal into that was perhaps his favourite place on the planet. He had always loved Diagon Alley.

He'd begged and pleaded to go and buy his wand first but his mother insisted they went to Gringotts. He'd huffed and sulked because he'd been there before, but he was grinning again in the little cart plunging down into the earth, chatting away to the goblin leading them and whooping with every gut-wrenching turn the rickety track threw them round.

His family vault was huge and gleaming with gold and other precious items, but he paid no heed to it, he'd seen it all before and right now not all the fortune in the world could draw his mind away from magic.

He talked incessantly all the way to Ollivander's wand shop and would have continued were it not for the buzz that ran through his entire being as the stepped through the doorway. He felt his very blood bubble and sparkle and sing in sheer joy of being in the presence of such pure magic. He'd been struck speechless.

The old man was creepy in a mystifying and undoubtedly cool kind of way and he spoke directly to him in whisper soft, magic laden tones. James could not think of a word to say in response.

His parents had watched with an odd sort of pride as their son's face fell devastatingly every time a wand failed to light up and do something when he held it, but twenty odd boxes later and there was a shower of stars and sparks, red and gold. James had almost jumped for joy.

Mahogany. Eleven inches with a magical core of dragon heartstring. It was strong but bendy; the old man called it pliable and told him it would be good for transfiguration. At that his heart nearly sung.

With a spring in his step and a wand carefully wrapped in his hand he allowed his mother to drag him to the robe shop, sending his father off to buy books. He'd grinned and nattered to Madam Malkin, having measurements taken and questions asked while he basked in the warmth of the wand box in his pocket.

Half and hour and seven sets of robes later he was poking strange slugs in the Apothecary while his mum bartered over the price of beetle eyes. A pretty girl walked in with two muggles, all three looking apprehensive and slightly lost. The man pulled out a sheet of parchment and James recognised it immediately by the Hogwarts crest.

"Would you like any help?" he asked, smiling his politest smile at the family, "I'm starting Hogwarts this term too, that's my mum over there." He pointed and the parents muttered their thanks while the girl just watched him shyly through a veil of brilliant red hair.

He bowed his best bow (the one his dad had taught him for dinner parties and meetings with the Minister) and offered his hand to the girl. "I'm James Potter," he said, cheerily.

She started at his hand before shying away and fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. "I'm Lily Evans," she responded, quietly stepping back, "It was nice meeting you," she almost whispered politely as his mum lead him out of the shop.

He looked round as they crossed the cobbled street, turning to see the girl clutching a unicorn horn, staring at the object in amazement. James was certain he had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his life, and now more than ever he could not wait to get to Hogwarts to meet other people like Lily Evans with her soft voice and bright hair.

That afternoon with a Fortescue ice-cream in hand and a hundred brightly wrapped parcels floating about him he happily followed his parents back to the pub. September the first could not come quick enough.

-

Lily had sat at her desk in her room surrounded with her new magic books for hours on end. By the end of the holiday she had read every book from cover to cover and had even tried a few minor spells with her beautiful new willow wand (Ollivander's had said it would be best with charms…).

Her parents had watched almost sadly as their youngest girl prepared herself to leave, every day growing more excited and nervous. Petunia was increasingly sour around her sister but Mr and Mrs Evans were certain it was just a phase - it would pass in time.

The last day of August came and went and they were soon driving their daughter to Kings Cross Station with instructions to send her walking through a wall between two platforms. The idea seemed ludicrous, but they had little choice in the matter and at quarter to eleven they said their goodbyes.

-

September first and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters with a huge grin plastered on his face. He saw a small boy standing on his own near the front of the train and decided he must be a first year too. He finds out later that this boy is Remus Lupin and he is one of the shyest, most brave and loyal boys James is ever likely to meet. For now he just watched and listened to his parents telling him to write and be good and say hello to Minerva and be nice to Peter Pettigrew because he doesn't know many other people.

When Peter arrived they found a carriage together and waved frantically to their parents as the train pulled away. Several minutes passed and they chattered aimlessly about quidditch and food, then suddenly there was a quiet voice at the door and Remus Lupin asked if he could sit with them. Another few hours and they'd established themselves as the best of friends, all three of them looking happier than ever by the time the lady with the food trolley arrives.

They discussed rumours they'd heard about the sorting and all decided they want to be in Gryffindor, and by the time the train drew in to Hogsmeade station they were ready to bring down that legendary Hogwarts sorting troll in a display of bravery that would kick-start a glorious school career in the house of the lion.

The castle was even bigger than expected and the three friends laughed as Severus Snape was pitched into the lake by an angered Black (Blacks, James explained, were the worst sort of Slytherins).

The Entrance Hall was huge and the candles so bright and there were so many people talking and laughing from beyond the great wooden doors.

The sorting hat was revealed and the three boys mentally sighed with relief, for all their big proclamations of bravery and knowledge none of them really believed they'd managed to slay that troll alone.

As he stepped forward to sit on that little wooden stool James hoped he'd follow Remus and Peter into Gryffindor, he hoped he'd get to know that rebel from the house of Black a little better, he hoped he'd make a good impression and drive the teachers mad. (And he silently hoped that that pretty Lily Evans would find him funny and let him sit next to her in transfiguration (the class that Ollivander's said his wand was best for).)

He sat on the stool with all eyes watching and heard the hat shout "GRYFFINDOR!" to a room full of cheers just for him. He slipped into a seat left of Remus and looking around and the laughing faces of Gryffindor House he felt like he had come home. And the feeling was nice.

Lily doubted she had ever been more nervous. It was time for her first magic lesson and she wasn't even sure if she was wearing her robes properly. Her new friend Alice hadn't stopped talking since they woke up in their shared Gryffindor dorm and she was beginning to get a headache.

Their teacher announced herself as Professor McGonagall and promptly changed into a cat. Lily gaped.

The whole lesson she scribbled notes about transfiguration, willing herself to remember every little fact and when the professor announced it was time to do a little bit of practical work she nearly cried. What if she couldn't do it? She was the only muggleborn witch in her class (maybe even year, she wasn't sure) and that meant that every single other person in the room had had more experience that her. It also seemed that James Potter had made it his morning's task to make her as nervous and uncomfortable as possible by loudly telling everyone in hearing distance about how many spells he had mastered at home and how his father had taught him this and his uncle had taught him that. Of course to top it all off he kept looking over at her, as if to make sure she was listening and with every word she felt progressively more sick with worry.

As anticipated James Potter was the first person to complete the spell, the pale boy alone at the back of the class, Sirius Black, was second. McGonagall paired them together for the last five minutes of the lesson and Lily resented them more than ever as they were given extra work while her matchstick remained very much wooden and blunt.

The day got progressively worse with James Potter showing off a hex he'd learnt on a Slytherin who called her a name she didn't even understand. Alice seemed to know everyone in the entire school and was constantly introducing more names and faces until they got all jumbled in Lily's head.

When dinner came she was so relieved to just sit down and not have to elbow her way through crowds. She had so much homework to do and it seemed so much like this world moved far faster than the world she'd come from.

The weeks following held flying lessons (a class which, again, James Potter excelled in) that added whole new levels to her previous vertigo, there were yet more lessons and homework to go with them and the Slytherins established themselves in her mind as cruel brats, best to be avoided. James Potter managed to shoot her carefully build confidence down with a single sentence every few days and kept trying to talk to her when all she wanted to do was finish her work so she could go and sleep. On the last day of the half term she full-out yelled at him to "shut up and leave her alone" and it was almost worth it for the look of shock on his face.

In that moment, shy Lily Evans, the redheaded first year, gained a reputation as the girl who shot James Potter down.

If you've read it, please review it.