Ordinary
MissLinuxthePenguin
Lily Evans
Lily Evans wasn't what you could call ordinary. She didn't look ordinary, that's for sure.
Ordinary didn't have bright crimson hair and sparkling green eyes. Ordinary didn't stand at a full height of ... five feet- on good days.
Regardless of her appearance, Lily Evans was not even remotely close to ordinary.
Ordinary.
Lily Evans attended Hogwarts, a secondary school for children of magical abilities.
And you can't stick a post it on that and label it ordinary.
But even there she was not ordinary. Being from a muggle family separated her from at least half of her peers. A half of this half going even so far as to discriminate against her for it.
She turned the corner into the Staircase hall. Of course, it was not named the Staircase hall, but Lily liked to call it that.
No one else did. But, then again, she wasn't ordinary.
Lily Evans could never be ordinary.
But that didn't stop her from wanting to be ordinary.
Petunia Evans (Dursley)
Petunia Evans was ordinary.
Plain. Ordinary. Not special.
And it hurt.
Staring into the mirror, looking at the ordinary girl that stood in front of her hurt.
Ordinary brown mousey hair with ordinary dull gray eyes with an ordinary face.
Petunia Evans wished she could be anything but ordinary.
James Potter
James Potter wasn't ordinary.
His ability to hold two different non-ordinary personalities at one time was definitely not ordinary.
Being able to spontaneously turn into a large, forest creature (a Stag) was not ordinary.
Being best friends with a werewolf wasn't ordinary.
Being in love when one was only twelve years old wasn't ordinary.
Watching friends and family die wasn't ordinary.
And being able to wake up the next morning and struggle through live wasn't ordinary.
And sometimes, just sometimes James Potter hoped he could have an ordinary life someday. A life without pain or death.
But that just didn't seem like it would ever happen.
Afterall, he wasn't ordinary.
Harry James Potter
Harry James Potter had always been told he wasn't ordinary- for every moment of his life.
There were different reasons behind his non-ordinarieness, of course, but it had always made him wish he was ordinary.
Ordinary.
Ordinary sounded nice to him. Normal, quiet. Ordinary.
Ordinary was out of reach. Out of grasp.
He could never be ordinary.
As a child he'd been told he was. a freak. The forgotten nephew that lived in the
cupboard under the stairs was not ordinary.
Then, he'd been thrown into a world where he actually belonged.
A world of magic, of spells and wands and wizards and witches. And for a moment, he thought that there he could be ordinary.
But the tables had turned for dear Harry James Potter.
As young as he was, he noticed. He noticed the stares, he noticed the whispers.
The odd shaped scar on his forehead was not ordinary.
He was not ordinary.
No boy who lives to tell such a tale is ordinary. The Boy who Lived could never be ordinary.
Even before he came into this world, he wasn't ordinary.
He tried to be ordinary. But it didn't work.
Ordinary would always be out of grasp.