You look over at the clock on your bedside table. It read 6:30. You creep around the dorm, gathering your clothes and wash things. After you have had a shower and got dressed it's around 7:00, which you decide is a reasonable time to go down for breakfast. When you enter the great hall, there is only a handful of students there, talking and eating- obviously the keenies. You see a lone figure at the Gryffindor table and go to sit next to them. He has his head bent over a bowl of cereal.
"Hey" you say hesitantly, not quite sure who it is. The head jerks up and you see it is Seamus. His usually happy face looks pale and drawn and his eyes sag. He gives you a smile though.
"Hey" he returns. You sit down and start buttering a piece of toast.
"What makes you get up at this ungodly hour?" you say "You look as though you could use as much sleep as you could get." He laughs shallowly.
"Yeah well, couldn't sleep. Got a lot of things on my mind." He says quietly. You frown in concern.
"Seamus- you ok? Want to talk about it?" you ask. He shakes his head, still avoiding your gaze.
"I, I… I gotta go to class." He say and quickly exits the great hall. You start after him, but realize that he wants to be on his own. You sit back down and start eating your toast- totally alone at the Gryffindor table.
"Now, what do we have here? Such a beautiful creature and all by herself- I'm sure I can remedy that." Came a cold, sly voice from over your shoulder. You try to concentrate on your toast- trying to ignore him. But he sits down next to you and presses up to you. You calmly move away from him, aloof. He sneers.
"Think your so high and mighty? Potter and his little bunch of disciples will tire of you soon enough. You can't move in this school for Potter hanger-oners. And when he does- you'll be begging me to come and pick up the pieces." He snarls, pressing his face up close to yours. You slowly and coolly turn to look at him.
"Malfoy- the day I come begging to you is the day I'm being impersonated by a sad follower of yours." You say.
"Already in last name terms and not even introduced? How rude." He says sarcastically. "I am Dra-"
"Yeah- I know who you are." You say, severely annoyed now. "You and your goddamn father! My name is Amilie de Migntot- fine. Sorted. I know your name you now mine. That's about all I ever do want to know about you or want you to know about me. Now could you get out of my face so I can finish my breakfast in peace!" you yell. His face curls into an unpleasant smirk.
"Unhappy today Amilie? Had a tiff with the dream team? If you ever get bored with Potter and the weasel, then my bedroom door is always open." He says, leering at you. Exactly the way his father used to. Your insides shrivel in disgust. "Oh look! Here comes the ringleader now- Oy! Potter! How's it that you fool girls into thinking you're even remotely good-looking or, god forbid, intelligent." Harry stops dead at the call, staring at you and Malfoy together. Obviously getting totally the wrong idea. He storms right back out of the great hall. You sigh in exasperation.
"Malfoy, You want to talk about intelligence? I'd say a guy who persisted in annoying, upsetting and insulting a girl you want. Then I'd say you're not in any way qualified to call any one else stupid than yourself." While saying this, you take your wand out of your back pocket and behind your back enchant the milk jugs to pour themselves… all over Malfoys head. The hall goes dead. Then one person starts clapping and all the other houses to, all apart from Slytherin. You take a mock bow to the rest of the hall and stride straight past Draco and out of the hall. You smile to yourself, like father like son. They both do the same things; they can both get the same treatment in return! You remember the look on Lucius's face back in 5th year and compare it to his sons. You snort on your laughter- identical looks of horror and humiliation.
You glance at your watch- only 8:00. Your first class starts at 9:30 (Transfiguration). You still have enough time to get that book from the library. Students now start to bulk out the corridors and you try to get lost in them, dreading having to face Hermione, Ron or Harry. You slip inconspicuously into the library, deserted at this time in the morning. Apart from Madam Pince, the librarian, steadily writing at her desk and a Hufflepuff from your year writing desperately, obviously late homework.
You slip between the shelves and immerse yourself in the books. You close your eyes dreamily and try to picture when you and lily had taken the book.
DAYDREAM/ REMEBERING
"Shhh! We'll get chucked out if you don't shut up!" Lily whispers to you. You both shut up, but all it takes is a glance at each other to set you off again, erupting into a steady stream of giggles. Madam Pince (still there!) gives you a stern look.
"Shhhhhhhhhhh!" she says strictly. Lily gives her her infamous 'prefect look'. Designed to get out of all trouble. You creep along the shelves, running you finger lightly along the spines of the books, stopping suddenly at one and tapping it knowingly.
"We seem to have hit jackpot!" you say, grabbing the book off the shelf. You and Lily settle against on the floor and glance through the contents.
"What about this one? 'To fall for the opposite of ones dreams.' Sounds great- imagine James trying to snog Severus! Just what he deserves!" Lily says eagerly. You giggle evily.
"No, can't. Ingredients are impossible." You say regretfully. Lily raises her eyebrows.
"Tut, tut. Miss 'I'm So Amazing At Potion Making!' Excuses, excuses!" she says. You glower at her and pinch her.
"What's this? A Pensieve. Wonder what that works?" she says.
"Oh, it's nothing too good. Just lets you sort of relive your experiences in a weird out of body way. My Grandpa used to have one." You explain. "Didn't think you had to make it though, you can usually buy it, I thought." You frown, examining the page.
"Wow! Difficult potion! I know why they buy it now!" you exclaim. Lily looks over your shoulder.
"Well, maybe one day when you're a great potion making genius you can make one for me!" she laughs.
You smile softly to yourself, close your eyes and lightly run your fingers over the spines of the books. Stopping at one and pulling it out. You gently stroke the purple, velvet and open the book to the right page.
"When I'm a great potion making genius- eh Lils?" you say softly. It would only take a day to make- but you'd have to be there all the time. You hear a bell ringing vaguely from the distance, but ignore it.
"Excuse me, shouldn't you be in class right now?" says Madam Pince, sticking her head round the corner. You jump up quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
"Madam Pince- is it ok if I take this?" you say, already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait for her reply, you race on to class.
"You alright Mills? You seem kind of… distracted all day." Says Hermione, glancing at you anxiously. You bat away her concern.
"I'm fine! All I have to do is wake up early and be late to one class and you think I'm dying or something!" you say exasperatedly.
"Wow, someone's touchy!" She says grumpily.
"Look, I sorry. I've just gotta be on my own for a while- kay?" you say, she knods sulkily and stalks off. You watch her round the corner and breath a sigh of relief. You softly lean against the tapestry of a woman eating grapes and whisper.
"Kiss" The lady giggles girlishly and lets you in. You look around smiling, the room has a velvet couch, a wash basin and tapestries covering the walls. It was where you and Sirius had sneaked off for some private sessions, hence the password! You hurry to the cauldron in the middle of the room and stir it feverishly, it gradually turns silver and begins to swirl, you know it's know ready. You take your wand and touch the end of it to your temple, slowly extracting a bubble that you place into the mixture. You look down into the swirling mist and see Sirius's haunted face blend into it.
"Here it goes." You whisper, and lower your face to the potion. You feel a strange sucking sensation and feel yourself being slowly pulled into the cauldron. Suddenly, you feel yourself thud onto a cold stone floor. You look up and brush the hair out of your eyes, and gaze at who stands before you…