Disclaimer: The Wonderful World of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot and Lily Evans' literary voice and attitude.
A Look At Wonderland
by Wired Dragonfli
Chapter Eight – Always the Charmer, Never the Charmed
November 16
"Lily?"
"Hm…yes?
"No, Lily, over there…"
Grudgingly, I opened one eye to gander at Marlene, who was sitting across from me at the library table. I had closed my eyes to better concentrate on the effects of Telmunde the Terrible on the Aenigma Remedy…or was it liverwort on the Battle of Harping? Okay…I admit it…I know exactly which beginning of the sentence matches up with which end of the sentence.
I just like confusing you for the kick of it.
I can have my cake and eat it too, although I'm not entirely sure how that saying proves any point of mine, nor how that statement makes any sense at all…
It's sort of like "Never look a gift horse in the mouth," which I never understood until I questioned it in Slug's class one day and Remus answered me. (Oh, hey look, I have said more than eight words to him in all our years at Hoggy, Warty Hogwarts.)
Apparently it has something to do with teeth…like the rings on a tree…and you can tell the age of the horse. Which I think is stupid because you can just ask whoever gave it to you how old it is. Unless that was considered rude back then…hell…they gave away horses!
I would never give a horse away as a present…but then again I'm fairly selfish.
Unless it was an old, stinky horse, with teeth like the rot-mouthed bus driver. Or perhaps the driver in his Animagus form…and if I had loads of other horses. No…actually…I don't fancy riding the bus driver...no matter what form he's in…so I would give it away. Regardless of how many horses I had.
Well that was very lewd…wasn't it? It makes me shiver just thinking about it. We were sitting by the fire too…in the Library…I had edged my seat to the side of the table just so I could feel the fire at my back…and Marls really wasn't across from me so much as adjacent…geometrically. Or would that be a trine?
Back to the matter at hand…before I went off on that lovely tangent and made a fool out of myself.
"Wait…who?"
Marlene pointed at this point, and somewhere at the back of my mind, I realized that I should have known that she wasn't the one that jarred me from my reverie. After turning around, I realized that the brave soul that had dare appeal to me was Samantha Daniels.
"Hey Sam…what's up?" I asked her, ever-cheerful.
"This," she said bitterly, thrusting a Charm Evaluation sheet at me. "I was fine with simply changing the color of things…but now he wants us to do it like a slide show, and…and…"
Here Samantha plopped herself into a chair near the desk (which hurts a lot, as the chairs are very much wood, and most peoples' bottoms are very much not enough to cushion such violent slamming into the seat) and let out as deep breath, letting her lips flutter like a propeller.
Which I found cute because I love kids with spunk.
"Well," I said with a smile before crumpling the parchment and holding it up "this…forget about this!" and I threw the ball at the fire, "because I will definitely help you."
She smiled, then looked behind me and said "Miss."
"Don't call me 'Miss.'; we've been over this…" I snapped in a would-be-modest tone.
"No, you missed," Samantha said dryly before pointing at the paper. Jesus Christ people have been pointing a lot today. Are we really all too lazy to vocalize things? Yes…it's Friday. The paper I had thrown was no where near the fireplace.
"Oh, sod off," I said light-heartedly to the girl. "Where's Emmy?" I inquired of Marlene.
"Practice…"
"Again?" I asked, screwing up my face like I had problems seeing.
"Yes, every other day until the game, then he's going to let up."
"It's strange, having Ems on the team…"
"Yes, she's never around."
"Why do you insist on saying 'yes', say 'yeah' like Emmeling, and me, and the rest of us sane people at Hogwarts."
"I classify saying things properly more as sane than insane."
"I suppose you're right, we'll have to consult with Em…"
"I suppose so…"
"It's strange, not having Emmerly around to consult…"
"Lily, alright! I realize very many nicknames can be made out of Emmeline's name."
And she hadn't even let me get to the "meline" part of her name yet.
"Oh, dreadful sorry Marlie."
Marlene ran her hand through her hair several times. I propped up my book and looked at her over the cover, pretending to be scared. Then I took some parchment and a ruler (I was doing Arithmancy homework before.) and ripped off a strip of parchment.
Marlene, who had been trying to read the same page for about an hour now (I know, because I keep seeing the same gruesome picture of Telmunde the Terrible when I look at her book. It's a full-pager, so she really could only have been reading the other page.) ran her hand through her hair, slammed the book shut and gave me a dirty look.
"What are you doing now?" she asked in a hissy voice. Not pissy…or prissy, but hissy, as in half hissing.
I flicked my wand, and with an array of pretty swishing sounds, the strip folded itself into a popped up star. I timidly reached over my book (thought now timidly enough as it fell over) and placed the star on her closed book before recoiling and hiding behind a newly reconstructed book fort.
Marlene groaned and slammed her head on book, crushing my pretty star, which she realized and she tried to pop back up. I snatched it back and coddled it.
Poor star.
"Oh, so groaning and slamming books, and head hitting is appropriate now…and sighing isn't?" I asked menacingly, before muttering under my breath, "I'm just waiting for you to mess up so I can call you 'vulgar'".
"What?" she asked scandalized.
"Nothing."
"No…what?" still scandalized.
"Nothing!" and I had a hissy fit and gathered my books and left the library.
Though truthfully, she's the one that should be having hissy fits. She can already make hissy comments.
Oh I am a riot!
Hopefully now Marlene can get back to studying. She didn't even stop me from leaving. See how cunning I am? She was so infuriated that completely forgot to be motherly and force me to study.
Right now, I'm laying in the middle of the pitch and finishing my Aenigma Remedy essay. Before you say it, no, not Enigma…Aenigma…I can't tell you why it's named as it is…but it is…
Of course I have erected a shield charm around me. Of course I only did it after I was almost bludgeoned five times, but what does it matter? It's up, isn't it?
I am so very proud of myself. I've only got the conclusion left to the essay and I've only been distracted by the delectable bums of the Quiddy team a few times. (This is mostly because they are flying very high and my vision can not magnifying or zoom in.
Have I ever thanked Dumbledore for those attractively tight Quidditch pants? Or should I be thanked the bloke who made up Quiddy in the first place? Perhaps he's still alive. Dumbledore is.
Or maybe DD can pass on my regards to Quidditch bloke when he dies. Yes, I know I'm horrible, but invariably, he will eventually die.
Hopefully not in a horrendous way…
As much as I don't seem like it, the whole issue with Voldemort scares the living shit out of me. In a way, it's also so very detached and so very far away. Sure the trouble has been going around for more than just a few years. Before I even came to Hogwarts, and that's partly why it doesn't hit home for me.
I came into the wizarding world when He-who-must-not was already at large. It's always been a part of my perspective of the magic world. I've also always had to deal with being a muggle-born. Sure it hurts when Snape and his friends, (well not so much him as his friends…masters…owners…he's quite like a little dog) decide to go on a tirade and insult every "mudblood" in view…
…and since I have the extraordinary talent of always being in view, I always get picked on. However, it's still a very small part of my life. The Slytherins are much more focused on the real, mean world outside school than on the small insignificant muggle-borns like me.
I'm sure they'll all fight for Voldemort when they're out. I just really don't see why they would sell themselves, for a license to kill (sure), but also one to be killed. One fuck-up and they're gone.
It's frustrating. I pride myself on knowing why. Not how things work…I can figure that out myself, but why things work. Sure, they seem like the same question, but they have totally different answers.
How a spell works would be: swish and flick. Why a spell works would be: you take your emotion and desire, and focus your magical powers though the wand, and the incantation usually keeps you focused as well, it tells your wand exactly what you want.
As you can see, the longer, more drawn out of and philosophical answer is my cup of tea.
Why do they want to sell their souls? Why are they so bent on ridding the world of impurities? I know they're afraid of change, of the unknown, of displacement in society…but why are they willing to let their fear take them so far. And if they truly hate muggles so much, why are they letting half of one dominate them so though roughly.
I hate them for wanting to kill me, not Lily Evans, but just another mud-blood in their eyes. Their hate is so vague but so cruel and focused. Voldemort might give them reason to finally "let out their anger" and kill, but for the most part, he's also brainwashing them to think that killing will solve anything, that it will keep children from being born with magical powers. Killing muggle-borns will not rid the world of them. We're not related, we're not interconnected. If we are really spontaneous combinations of magic that show up anywhere in the world regardless of lineage…
Who says killing us will stop these combinations in future times.
And if it is genetic, then who says this fear will last once the mania dies down. Who says that in the future pure-magic won't combine with muggles again, and start this cycle again.
It's a spiral that never ends. Everything will just keep repeating itself. How is it that I, a "lowly", muggle-born, Gryffindor, 5th year understands it so well…and everyone else so little?
November 22
Gryffie Commonroom
"Psst! SQUIRT!" the couched hissed at Sam.
"What?" Samantha deadpanned, and I knew the past two hours of tutoring had gotten to her, because otherwise she would put on a show and pretend to be frightened that the couch was talking to her.
A sugarquill appeared from behind the furniture and danced a bit.
"I'll let you eat me if you take Marlene upstairs and leave Lily alone." The quill said in a too-high falsetto.
"I'll take three, one for getting rid of myself, one for getting rid of McKinnon, and an extra for leading her upstairs." The 2nd year said diplomatically.
There was a contemplative silence on the other side of the sofa, and then the sound of crinkling cellophane.
"Deal!" the voice said, and three sugarquills flew over the couch. Samantha easily caught them…and I clapped for the child, glad for a distraction from Charms.
Marlene got up and refused an offered quill. Sam shrugged and stuck one into her mouth before she herded a peeved Marlene upstairs.
I sat there, pretending to not have noticed a thing, while Sirius rolled out from behind the couch, before shimmying up to my chair. I was anticipating him speaking, and was about to break the silence myself before the chair flew out from behind me and I found myself on the floor.
Red faced, I stood up and tapped my foot. I assume I shrieked loudly because I found several persons leering at me from all around the common room. I waited a few moments and then glared at those who hadn't lost interest.
"I see London, I see France—" a sharp but gentle kick to the head shut up the sing-song Sirius and he got up from the floor. "So…Lily-doodle…"
"Yes Siri-poodle?" I asked sweetly.
"Poodle? Okay, whatever…how has life been treating you?"
"What am I, at a pub?"
"No need to get defensive" he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "We just haven't talked in a while."
I was already lost in my thoughts, attempting to flip him over in front of me like they do in films. Sirius gave me an odd look.
"What are you doing?" he asked in an amused manner.
"Nothing. Nevermind, I don't really know." I said, looking at my feet and shuffling them. It's so strange how one can shuffle their feet…it makes me thing of a deck of cards, every time. "What do you want?"
"To spend some time with my bestest pally!" he said cockily, pulling me around to the couch and seating us. It was at this point that I dislodged his arm from around me and turned on the couch. I sat Indian-style and gave him a skeptical look.
"So…what do you want?" I repeated.
"I'm sick, there's something wrong with me…I don't like girls anymore!" he whinned, and dramatisized.
"Well," I said mock-comfortingly, "have you told Remus about your feelings…?"
"Nah, Rem wouldn't get it—wait, what are you inseminating, because that dazzling smile of yours is only aimed at me when I miss something."
"You mean: insinuating? Because I certainly am not introducing semen into the genital tract of a female."
"Yeah. That. Eew."
"Always the charmer,"
"Never the charmed."
"I just think you're maturing, you don't need to hide behind the façade of a playboy to feel hot and desirable."
"That must be it, you know, I've felt more contemplative lately…" he…gushed. That's closest I can come to describing it. Gushing…oh dear, thoughts of inseminating come to mind.
"I'm glad I can help. It's so nice to know you're the girl blokes go to when they think they're gay…" I said in a meaningful tone.
"I knew you meant something with your Remus comment. Lily Evans. I've. Got. You. Pegged." He said, accompanying the last word with a tap on my nose.
"Anytime baby, I'm free Saturday night." I grinned cheekily.
"I've also managed to soak your brains in sewage," He said, rivaling my grin, "besides, when you think about it, the blokes coming to you when they think they're swinging that way is actually very flattering."
I sent him a look that clearly stated 'I will ignore that comment and move on to my problems now, thank you very much'.
"I feel pathetic," I cryptisized, it was rightfully my turn to bitch.
"And how does that make you feel?" Sirius said, pulling up my Arithmancy notebook and a quill.
"Pathetic." I reiterated.
"And how does that—just kidding." He said with a self indulgent chuckle, and shook his head at his own antics. "So, pathetic."
There was a pause as Sirius scribbled, and a silence after a second or two. He looked at the paper expectantly. I narrowed my eyes for a second before grinning.
"P-A…T-H…E-T-I-C"
"Oh I knew that," he huffed, waving a dismissive arm at me, managing to lightly hit my head a few times."
"Sure you did,"
"I did so! I paused because of a certain something funny I see in your little note taking book."
"And what certain something funny is it that you see?"
"Oh, you know what I see…"
"Do I now?"
"Yes, you totally do."
"I totally do? Golly!"
"Um…aren't you going to admit to it now?"
"The question is…when are you going to admit to it?"
"Admit to what?"
"You know what."
"Do I now?"
"Yes, you totally do."
"I think we've been here before."
"I concur!"
"I think we should go celebrate this momentous occasion with some butterbeer."
"What momentous occasion?" I asked innocently, and I could see Siri restraining himself from saying 'you know what.'
"Come, come, Lilster!" he said getting up, linking his arm through mine
"After you, Sirster." I said with a lavish wave. (Sirster, I like that.)
"Are you implying something with the implied ladies first thing?"
"No, but I might be inseminating it" I teased, in a drawling tone, and I smirked.
Sirius languidly raised an eyebrow and put his free hand in his coat.
"You look like Napoleon."
"Who?"
"This French emperor tyrant guy." I said in a nonchalant tone.
Every time I think about Napoleon, I think back to this one episode of Pinky and the Brain, where they went back in time and they explained the hand in the coat thing as Brain poking his belly because it was great fun.
"Are you poking your belly because it's great fun?" Unoriginal!Lily strikes again!
"No…"
"Good."
A/N: I though it'd be nice to update once every year at least. Currently, I have no clue where I'm going with this, and have no idea where the next chapter will go. Most of my story is based on slight altercations of my own life, and right now, my own life isn't all that grand. This summer, I moved from my native wonderful Southern California to Dayton, Ohio. New school, new friends, and well no crushed. I've got almost nothing to base this story on. (Except an ever lasting infatuation with a boy, but it's too deep to be put into this story yet. Oy...give me inspiration my lovelies. :
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Why else do you think I'm updating this? Give me ideas, no matter HOW absurd they are...go ahead.
EVERY IDEA YOU GIVE ME IN YOUR REVIEWS WILL BE PUT INTO THE FANFICTION BY THE END...but it only counts for reviewing this chapter. Give me your strangest ideas, random, crazy, anything. GO!
Hit me with you best shot! dun nu nu...music