Absurdity

By anonymously morgan

The story of Lily and James—my way. It's going to be full of ridiculous absurdities and plot twisters, I assure you. - R&R, tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own this stuff. Are you crazy?

…

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" A girl's voice instantly silenced the laughing crowd around her, her anger resonating. She was glaring at two handsome, dark-haired boys before her, one of which wore glasses and held his wand out before him lazily. Her brilliant green eyes flashed with a dangerous fury, her flaming red hair shined, and her complexion seemed to glow… with contempt.

'God, she's gorgeous when she's mad,' he thought, as he and his best friend beside him eyed the wand she had in her hand warily. It was pointed directly at his heart, but he didn't seem to care much. He, too, had his wand out, but it was not directed at her. No, nor would it ever be. He saved his curses for the greasy-haired Slytherin boy with his large nose and dark, loathing eyes. Speaking of good old Snivellus, he was now upside-down in the air, his robes up over his face only to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underwear, showcased for the whole of Hogwarts to see.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," the bespectacled boy said with earnest.

"Take the curse off him, then!" the redhead replied, calming down slightly. But only slightly. Her wand was still raised and she glared at who, she considered, her enemy.

And with a heavy sigh, the boy muttered a countercurse, unable to deny her request. 'She's going to ruin my reputation if she keeps doing this to me,' he thought as he did so.

"There you go," he said, as his victim struggled to get to his feet again. "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"

With a dirty sneer, the greasy-haired boy spat, "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

The pretty redhead of his dream blinked, seemingly unphased by the vulgar language that had come out of his mouth. The bespectacled boy, however, was absolutely disgusted.

"Fine," she said with unnerving cool, "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

"Apologize to Evans!" the boy roared at his hook-nosed enemy. He pointed his wand at him threateningly, a curse at the tip of his tongue. 'How dare he, that dirty, foul, loathsome, evil little-' his thoughts were interrupted, however, by her voice.

"I don't want you to make him apologize," she shouted, rounding on him. He was surprised at her statement. "You're as bad as he is!"

"What?" he yelped, very shocked to hear such an insulting comparison. "I'd NEVER call you a—a you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

And with a turn of her heel, Lily Evans was gone, leaving a very confused audience behind her.

"Prongsie-poo!" came a very familiar voice from outside his door, startling James Potter as he jumped out of memory lane. A strong frown was plastered on his face as he slept, but as soon as he heard the voice in his hallway, it quickly turned into a grin and he opened his eyes.

"Paddy-kins!" James yelled to the newcomer, who had burst in and jumped onto his bed. They wore identical, lop-sided grins as they greeted one another. James sat up.

"Paddy-kins?" Sirius Black asked his best friend, a questioning look almost overpowering his smirk. He was a handsome devil, James knew, as he looked at Sirius, sitting on the end of his bed. James often found himself getting jealous at all the attention that Sirius got from the girls in their year, and below. He was messy, though, and could never keep a girlfriend for more than three weeks at a time. Sirius and James were so alike, though, James often wondered how they could ever be friends when they aren't really in very many ways, shapes, or forms different. Both loved Quiddtich and pranking and picking on Snivellus, and sneaking into Hogsmeade for butterbeers after the Quidditch cup and prancing about under James's inherited invisibility cloak, exploring Hogwarts and its grounds… It's a wonder how James and Sirius weren't ever sick of each other, considering they've lived together since the summer before sixth year.

"Yeah, well, I think Padfootie-kins would be quite a mouthful, don't you?" James retorted quickly. "And besides, Padfoot, it's much too early to be thinking of any clever remarks right now."

Sirius smiled genuinely. "It's half nine, mate."

James grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and looked at the clock next to him. "So it is."

There was a short pause, in which Sirius looked around the room he was sitting in. It was littered with robes and parchment, quills and inkbottles, textbooks, and other items, such as a cauldron, a wand, and James's most prized possession, his Nimbus 1700. It was the fastest model of broom available, and James was one of the first people in the world to get it. He was obsessed with Quidditch, the best and only sport in the entire world. His favorite team was, the only, Falmouth Falcons. He watched all of Quidditch with a keen eye, though, no matter who were his favorite Chasers. Quidditch posters of various teams zoomed around his bedroom, making it look like one huge World Cup game on one of his walls. James watched as the three best Chasers in the league-and his personal idols-formed the Hawkshead Attack Formation to a textbook form.

Sirius interrupted his daydreams of becoming a Professional Quidditch Player with a few abrupt words. "Prongs, why haven't you packed?"

James stared, confused and tired. "Packed?"

Sirius stared right back for a second, and then responded, "We're going to Bulgaria, ickle Jamie-kinns! Have you already forgotten?"

James continued to stare at him in complete confusion, and then squinted at his Quidditch Player-Of-The-Year Calendar that hung on the opposite wall.

"It's September 1st, you git! Or have you gone completely daft whilst fawning over Miss Evans?" Sirius joked. James choked and tightened at the thought of Lily, and grabbed one of his many pillows and threw it at him in one flowing, graceful movement. He had been a Chaser since his second year at Hogwarts, and he smiled at his precise aim as the pillow went soaring ever nearer to his best mate's face.

Unfortunately for James, Sirius had also been playing Quidditch since his second year. He was a fellow Chaser to James, and so he caught it and threw it back. James dodged it with amazing ease. He had amazing reflexes. The pillow soared with shocking speed and landed exactly where he had picked it up in the first place, as if it hadn't been touched at all.

"Beautiful," James said, looking over his shoulder at the pillow. "We make a good team, Padfoot, you and I."

Sirius, apparently, did not hear a word that James had said. "HE SCORES!" he proclaimed, jumping up off the bed and throwing his hands into the air, impersonating the Hogwarts commentator, and one of James's and Sirius's best friends, Remus Lupin. James was shocked at how Sirius had managed to imitate Remus's voice. "Sirius Black soars one past James Potter, and that's enough to tie the game! The crowd goes WILD!"

James laughed openly. "As if, Black, as if."

Sirius stopped cheering in mid-jump, and glared at James mockingly, his hands on his hips. "Oh, on a surname basis are we, now, Potter? Well, I would very much like to prove it to you that I am twice the Chaser you'll ever be!" They each grinned their famous lopsided grins, for both knew that the other was their Quidditch adversary. "However, we have got to get you packed for Hogwarts."

With a sigh, James stared around his room. "I'm never going to finish in time…"

"You're right, it looks like a ruddy tornado blew through here last night," Sirius replied honestly, his arms dropping to his sides as he stole another glance around the large room. "But that's what I'm here for, mate!"

There was another pause.

"Well, let's not wait for the grass to grow. C'mon, Prongsie-poo, we've got work to do." Sirius stood and went to the end of James's bed, where his friend's trunk lay open and empty.

"You just rhymed, you know that, Padfoot?" James commented, still sitting contented and warm underneath his covers.

"Yeah," Sirius responded sheepishly. "I was sort of hoping you wouldn't notice. I guess I should know better, huh?" He sighed, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the trunk at his feet. "You haven't packed a single blasted thing?"

James shook his head in response, and stared down at his legs that were covered by a dark blue quilt. He knew he would freeze if he took the blankets off of himself. Deciding that it would be better to get it over with, he quickly threw the blanket off of him and shivered at the immediate cold. Slowly, very slowly, he threw one leg and another over the side of his mattress, where they hit the rug covering the wooden floor with a dull thud. He reached under his glasses and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

When he moved his hands and opened his eyelids once more, he found himself staring at a picture of a pretty redheaded girl with bright green eyes. Lily. She was positively fuming; her full, pink lips open wide in a silent yell. She was screaming at a boy, a tall boy with dark, untidy hair, round glasses, and a famous smirk. James. He remembered the day Sirius had snapped the portrait while the redheaded Gryffindor Prefect relentlessly badgered him about what he had done. It was a little revenge, really; all he had done was glued a Slytherin fifth year's tongue to the roof of his mouth. Well, he had just called his future girlfriend a mud-…

James couldn't even bring himself to think that awful word. He despised it, especially when it was used against her, the brilliant and talented and beautiful Lily Evans…

"Oi, Prongs, you gonna come out of La-La Land anytime soon? In case you haven't noticed, we've still got to get you packed", came Sirius's voice from a few feet away. James heard him sniff. "And, come to think of it, showered. Did you even wash up after Quidditch yesterday?"

James looked up at his friend, who was holding a tall pile of textbooks that teetered as he walked from James's desk to his bed. James stood and laughed, "Smooth, Padfoot", before strutting over to his friend and taking half the books out of his arms. He piled books with titles such as, Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven, and Advanced Potion Making II into the side of his trunk, making sure he left enough space for his robes and cauldron and, most importantly, his Nimbus.

A half-hour and a full trunk later, James was completely packed, his room looking surprisingly clean. Only one of his posters, his favorite, of course, of the Falmouth Falcons, had been taken off the walls and was placed in his trunk; he didn't want to leave his room looking completely lifeless.

"One last thing," Sirius said after they packed two shiny, silver school badges. He strode over to his best friend's nightstand and took a moving framed photograph off of it. He held it out to James. "The finishing touch."

James smiled. "The finishing touch." And he set the picture on top of his rather neatly folded school uniform. He looked down at the angry Lily for a moment. There was a long, serious silence between the two of them. Sirius broke it.

"This is your last chance, James," he said hesitantly, being very uncharacteristic. First names were only used when there was a serious topic hanging in the air. With Sirius around, that rarely ever happened.

James didn't look up. "I know."

Another amazingly long silence blanketed the air between them. Deciding that he didn't like it, James looked up and grinned. He strode toward his bathroom and started the water in his shower.

"This year's my year, Sirius," James called out over the running water, stripping of his shirt and looking in the half-foggy mirror with determination flashing in his hazel eyes.

"I'll get that Lily Evans if my life depends on it."

…

"I'll get that James Potter if my life depends on it." Lily said to herself, her voice echoing through the room in which she was standing in. She looked at her reflection in her full-length mirror, only to see, what she thought, was an average-looking girl with fiery red hair and green eyes, sporting a silver badge. She smiled wickedly as the silver badge caught the light and shimmered for a second. Head Girl, it read. Her wicked smile grew wider. "You'd better be ready for this, Potter."

She turned and looked around her room. It was almost completely empty, except for a bed, a dresser, the mirror that stood behind her, and herself. Her smile faltered. This was the last time she would be leaving for her home away from home. This was the beginning of her final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And I hope he won't ruin it for me, she thought, somewhat vindictively as she thought of the James Potter she had grown to dislike. Over eccentric, presumptuous, arrogant, superficial James Potter. His stubbornly untidy black hair that he always messed up when she was around, his nerdy round glasses, and his annoying lop-sided smirk… But worst of all, she really despised the way he strutted about the castle, his three little friends in his wake, hexing anyone that annoyed him. Oh yes, the ringleader of the infamous Marauders, or so they dubbed themselves way back in second year. At least he had cut back on asking her out. Lily remembered, two years ago he had went out of his way to ask her out at least five times every day.

However, sixth year had been different, if even in the slightest way. He had cut back to asking her out once or twice a day, yet he still went around pranking everything with two legs and a pulse. Or without a pulse, Lily reminded herself of when the four Marauders had a suit of armor on the third floor follow her around, singing made-up lyrics to regular Christmas songs.

Lily smiled.

But as quickly as it had appeared on her face, it was gone, and she shook her head. "What am I doing?" she asked herself. "Smiling at their stupid, immature pranks-"

"Lily! It's time we set out for London!" she heard her father's voice ring up the stairs. She sighed.

"Coming, Dad," she responded almost mechanically and, taking one last look around her room, stepped out onto the landing. She double-checked that her wand was safely tucked into the side of her skirt. Reassured that it was there, she started making her way down the stairs, only to bump into her sister.

"Lily," the horse-faced girl said coldly. Lily took a second to observe her sister. She had a long face, framed by plain, dark brown locks. She had dark eyes to match. She wasn't pretty… but for that matter, she wasn't wretchedly ugly either. Lily always wondered how she had turned out so different from her older sister, but had not given it a second thought.

"Petunia," she replied, trying and failing to make her tone friendly. Petunia had done nothing but call her a freak since she had gotten her Hogwarts letter six years ago. Feeling completely disowned, she said, "Have a good year," and she continued, trying with all her might to hold back a mean comment, "I'll see you at Christmas."

"No, you won't. Vernon will be coming for Christmas this year. Mum and Dad say that you can stay at- at…"

"Hogwarts?" Lily offered, smirking.

"Don't talk about that place! You may think you're cool because you get to go off all year to learn rubbish, but I won't hear it! I'm the only one who will see you for what you are, you freak!"

Lily laughed outright. "Ah, yes, and you must think you're cool because you get to go off all year to snog Vernon. Right… Tough choice, but I think I'll take Hogwarts over some overgrown ape any day." She couldn't help herself. She didn't like to insult Petunia when she didn't have to. She was her sister, after all.

Lily could feel Petunia's radiating anger. The force of it made her realize that she had crossed a line, but in all honesty, she didn't care. Her sister hated her, and came up with petty insults whenever she could, so why not return the favor? She started skipping down the stairs.

"Goodbye, Petunia, dearest, I'll see you next summer!" Lily called over her shoulder in a sickly sweet voice.

"Don't bother to write!" Petunia replied in the same tone, her voice laced with fury.

"I won't!" Lily retorted, and when she reached the third to last step, she jumped off, landing, to her shock, gracefully on the hardwood floor below. She heard Petunia's bedroom door slam shut. The family portrait on the wall beside her rattled and fell, shattering at her feet.

Lily picked it up with a sigh and headed toward the kitchen, where she found her mother and father waiting for her with her trunk and owl cage. She smiled half-heartedly and set the broken frame on the table between them. With a shrug, she faced her parents and said curtly, "Let's go."

And she followed her father out the door. He was carrying her trunk with both hands, a vein in his temple throbbing. She watched her father for a while, taking in his graying red hair and crow's feet around his blue eyes. Lily definitely took after him; he was stubborn, and yet very smart, and tempered easily. Tempered easily. Lily hated that she had gotten that out of the gene pool, but what was to be expected out of a redhead like herself?

Lily's mother was different. So different, Lily often wondered how the two of them ended up married. She had dark nearly black hair and the same green orbs that Lily prided herself for getting. Her mother was indignant, and wise, and was very collected almost all the time. Lily found herself wishing that she could keep her temper like her mother, but as often as she tried, she failed.

Within the next minute, Lily's mother had appeared after saying an abrupt good-bye to Petunia, and they were on their way to London.

The ride there was nearly silent, except for the rain that had started to pour down onto the family car. Lily grinned at the site. She loved the rain. It hardly ever rained at Hogwarts, and when it did, she was almost always confined to a crowded classroom or working on homework or something of the sort. She hadn't gone running in the rain for…

God, it's been years. Lily sighed audibly.

"What's wrong, dear?" Her father said from the driver's seat, glancing into his rear-view mirror to look at her. She shook her head.

"Nothing, Dad, it's just that I can't believe this is my last year."

Her mother nodded, saying that she understood.

"Don't worry, Lily, darling, everything will work out in your favor."

…

Lily hopped out of the car when they reached King's Cross Station. She stole a quick look at her watch. Great, she thought, absolutely distressed as she quickly popped open the trunk. My first day as Head Girl and I'm going to be late!

Lily's mother suddenly appeared at her side with a trolley. Both women were drenched from the rain pouring down on their heads. Lily threw her mom a grateful look just as her father came out of the car. He pulled her trunk out of the back and set it on the trolley. He then grabbed her birdcage, with her pretty little tawny owl resting inside, and threw a blanket over it before setting it on top of her luggage. He smiled down at her.

"Would you like us to come and see you off?" he asked, half-yelling over the thunder that had just clapped. He had his hood pulled over his head and he held it there, trying in vain to shield himself from the quickly falling raindrops.

"No, really, it's alright. I can get there by myself; I'm a big girl now. Goodbye, mum!" she kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye, dad!" and she did the same to him.

"Be good!"

"No boys!"

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled, displaying a row of straight, white teeth.

"Of course not, dad, of course not. I love you!"

And with that, she started hurrying away, but not without one quick glance and wave back at her parents, who stood together, waving her off.

Lily took her time getting inside, knowing now that she would have at least five minutes to spare before the train left. Once she stepped inside, though, she wished she hadn't spent so much time in the rain, for now her bare legs shivered and she clung to her sweater, trying to warm herself. Frowning, she grabbed her trolley and started pushing it toward the platform.

In good time, she reached it. She glanced at the clock on the wall above her head- 10:52! Great timing, Lily. Proud of herself, she casually leaned up against the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, and soon came face-to-face with a gleaming red train that was steaming. She saw droves of people getting onto the long engine after saying hurried goodbyes to their parents.

Lily started off toward the train, pushing her heavy trunk with strenuous effort; how did her dad lift it with such ease? She continued on, seeing a few people that she knew and waving, but not conversing with anyone. She wanted to save that for-

"LILY!" a shrill voice carried itself to her ears, making her smile a huge smile as she turned around. Rushing toward her was none other than Alice Webster, her trolley forgotten over by her parents. Lily set her own trolley down and embraced the pretty, dark-haired girl, her grin getting bigger and bigger by the second.

"Oh, Alice, I've missed you so much!" Lily said as they let go. It was true; she missed her best friend dearly, though they had been conversing via owl all summer. "How've you been? Oh, hello, there, Frank."

Over Alice's shoulder suddenly appeared a fellow Gryffindor boy their age with a round face and a grin. "Hey, Lily," was all he said. He put his arm around Alice and pulled her tightly to him. She giggled.

"I see," Lily said knowingly, winking at Alice. Both of her friends rolled their eyes.

"Fancy finding a compartment so we can actually catch up on all summer?" Alice asked, looking as though she were about to explode if she didn't tell Lily whatever was on her mind.

"Oh, c'mon, you can't have forgotten already?" Lily said, knowing that her best friend did tend to be very forgetful sometimes.

"Forgotten what?" Frank interjected curiously.

"Alice didn't tell you?" Lily asked, somewhat shocked.

"No, but I will now- how silly of me to forget. Lily's Head Girl this year, you know. So she has to go have a meeting with the Head Boy and Prefects. By the way, Lils, do you know who the Head Boy is this year?"

"No, but-"

"I do!" Frank interjected again, smiling a huge, innocent grin.

"Really?" Lily inquired, looking interested. "Who is it, then?"

Frank merely shook his head in response. "I have a feeling you'll find out soon enough."

Lily was about to reply when the train's loud whistle interrupted. She saw Frank whisper something in Alice's ear, and she gasped and smiled wickedly.

"What?" Lily asked, now dying to know who the Head Boy was.

"What d'you mean, what? We've got to get on that train before it leaves!" Alice said promptly. She trotted off, Frank's hand in hers, to get their trolleys. Lily sighed.

"So rude, making me wait…" Lily said to nobody. With that, she turned and took the first step onto the last train ride she would ever take to Hogwarts.

Author's Note: So, what did you think? I really hoped you liked it, because it took quite a while to write! I don't think all my chapters will be this long, though. R&R, please!