Summary: It was supposed to be a normal summer, one just like any other Lily Evans had experienced in the past six years of her life. Petunia would call her a "freak," and their parents would encourage them to at least be civil to one another. Little did she know how one chance meeting could change so much…

Disclaimer: I own nothing…nothing at all, sadly…

Boring Misery…

Lily sat stubbornly in the back seat, her arms and legs crossed. Her face was set in a prominent scowl, which was quite a severe look for such a young lady.

"Get out of the car," snapped Petunia from her seat at the steering wheel.

"Why should I?" smirked Lily, feigning ignorance, though secretly reveling in her sister's annoyance.

"Because I don't want to get into trouble with Mum," sniffed Petunia.

Lily snorted. If Petunia did not want to get into trouble with Mum, she would not have—never mind, it was not her story to tell.

"Mum doesn't have to find out," responded Lily, leaning back casually. "I can just hang around here or something."

"Just listen to yourself," scoffed Petunia. "How exactly are you going to survive in a car—in the middle of the summer—for eight hours?"

"So you really are going shopping for eight hours," exclaimed Lily. "How do you even survive, doing that?"

Petunia rolled her eyes at her sister's childishness. Not everybody appreciates the art of fashion. "If you can survive, I'll let you stay in the car. But if you die, I'm not going to be held responsible."

Lily held up her wand, and twirled it in her fingers, right in Petunia's face. "Witch," she replied, as though that one word explained everything. (Which, in her case, it did.)

Upon seeing the once-deemed "stupid wooden stick," Petunia's eyes widened in terror. "Get that fr-freak thing out of my face right now!" she spluttered furiously.

"Why of course, your majesty," said Lily, with a mocking wave of her hand. She retracted her wand and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"Just get out of the car," Petunia snapped again, the two having to the original reason for their current argument. Her already little patience was obviously waning.

"Fine," conceded Lily. She sighed heavily, and climbed out of the car. Petunia followed suit. She really should change the color, Lily noted, as she turned back to face the vehicle. The pink really hurts my eyes right now. Without another word, she slammed the door behind her.

"DON'T SLAM MY DOORS," shrieked Petunia, glaring at Lily's retreating figure.

"SORRY, FORCE OF HABIT," Lily called back, smirking slightly. It was true though; their father often reminded her that slamming car doors was illegal in Switzerland. Lily was glad that she didn't live there, even though it was always a neutral country, she thought absent-mindedly. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, her purse swinging around one of her wrists, and walked casually to the double doors—or multiple double doors, rather—that led to the mall. She sighed once more. It was going to be a long day…

….

"And how may I help you today, miss?" wheezed the short, wispy-haired man in front of her.

"I'd like to purchase a book," Lily replied, holding a medium-sized paper-backed novel in front of her.

"Very well then." The old man took the offered book, and scanned it. He announced the cost, and Lily rifled through her small purse, looking for the money her mother had given her only hours before. She finally found it.

"Here," she said, handing the cashier her payment.

After a few moments, the book, now in a plastic bag; the receipt; and her change was handed back to her.

She gave the old man her thanks, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement.

As Lily walked out of the bookshop, she could hear the faint sound of someone calling "next," from behind the threshold.

She picked up the book she had just bought, and opened it to the first page.

One may as well begin with Helen's letters to her sister, she read silently, still walking through the crowded halls of the shopping complex. She was actually quite gifted at multi-tasking in such a way, for much of her practice came from walking around her house and dodging Petunia, along with the lethal numbers of cosmetic devices that girl carried around with her. Lily Evans had yet to run into somebody whist reading and walking, and she hoped she would not be breaking her streak sometime soon. Her skills at walking but not reading were a completely different matter.

It isn't going to be what we expected. It is old and little, and altogether delightful—red brick. We can scarcely pack in as it is, and the dear knows what will happen when Paul (younger son) arrives tomorrow. From hall you go right or left into dining-room or drawing-room. Hall itself is practically a room. You open another door in it, and there are the stairs going up in a sort of tunnel to the first-floor. Three bed-rooms in a row there, and three attics in a row above. That isn't all the house really, but it's all that one notices—nine windows as you look up from the front garden.

Then there's a very big—

BAM! Lily was jolted back into reality, away from the town of E.M. Forester's novel, Howard's End. She had, in the course of three days, once again collided with a person after turning a corner. Her book had slammed quite forcefully into the poor victim's chest (she had assumed that he was male because of his height), and flew away from her. Lily, instead, stumbled back, quickly regaining her balance (which apparently, was one of the numerous gifts she possessed.) She cursed under her breath, partly at herself for running into an unsuspecting civilian, and partly to the person she knocked into for breaking her perfect collision-free streak.

She absently noted that this person felt oddly familiar, but thought little of it. However, a sense of déjà vu arose when the young man she had collided into handed her a slightly wrinkled book, and she looked up into his eyes.

She almost laughed at her luck.

"Ah, Evans, fancy meeting you here," greeted James, who appeared pleasantly surprised. He looked at Lily, who was trying to flatten the cover of her book. "Never walk and read at the same time, Evans," he tutted, "it's never a good idea."

Lily scowled. "I'll have you know that you're the first person I've ran into while doing so," she replied haughtily.

"That must mean I'm special."James grinned roguishly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course Potter. Just because you're the first person that had the misfortune of colliding with a multi-tasking girl means that God's gift the mankind," she drawled sarcastically.

"Oh no, Evans, you're wrong there," said Potter, with the air of somebody explaining a relatively simple concept to an apprentice. "I'm Merlin's gift to witches."

Lily shook her head at his ridiculousness and began snickering uncontrollably.

James looked at her with wide eyes. "Did…Lily Evans just laugh at something I said?" he asked, somewhat cautiously.

Lily, who was still snickering madly, shook her head once more. "No," she replied. "That was just—just terrible," she explained (quite poorly), and burst into another silent fit of laughter.

James continued eyeing her, with what appeared to be genuine concern in his eyes.

"Lack of sleep," explained Lily, finally returning to sanity. She had now recovered completely, and was once again the nice carbon copy of Professor McGonagall she occasionally appeared to be.

"I see," said James solemnly. "And I thought it was going to be a day for the history books," he paused dramatically, gazing in the far distance with a serious look on his face, "Lily Evans laughs at something James Potter says," he finished, his arms in the air, his hands framing a nonexistent headline.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "The day I find you genuinely funny is the day I play a whole game of Quidditch." The moment the words left her mouth, she knew she had said the wrong thing.

James grinned, knowing that Lily had realized her mistake. "That can be easily arranged," was his response.

Lily rolled her eyes one more and glanced back to the young man in front of her. She surveyed him warily. "You're not stalking me or anything, are you?" she asked, cautiously.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Evans. It's not becoming," James replied, with a dismissive wave of his hands.

"Says the guy with the abnormally large ego," said Lily, clearly not amused.

"Aw, Evans, that hurt," moaned James, in exaggerated agony. "That hurt me right here." He clutched at his heart.

"That's probably because the spine of my book slammed right into your chest," said Lily.

"Now that was just mean, Evans," James scolded mockingly, wagging a reprimanding finger in front of Lily's nose. She eyed it with a raised eyebrow, her arms crossing over her chest. She looked back up at James in a very exasperated manner, and saw him smirking down at her. She rolled her eyes again— for the umpteenth time—and turned away, rubbing at her temples.

"Since this is—apparently—something that will be happening every other day for the next month or so, what—may I ask—are you doing here this time?" Lily inquired, not impolitely, but more like an annoyed mother who has discovered her child in the back yard, covered with mud from head to toe.

"Skipping pleasantries, I see," observed James. "If you must know," began James, mimicking the now quite irritate Lily Evans, "I was invited to this—to this...what do you call it again?"

"Mall," supplied Lily, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Yes…mall…by my good mate Sirius Black to be a third wheel on his date."

Lily's eyes twinkled with mirth. "And who would have thought the day would come that James Potter, of all people, would be a third wheel?" she teased, smirking slightly.

"Hey, no need to judge," said James defensively, holding his arms up in surrender. "I've been a third wheel plenty of times."

Lily eyed him skeptically.

"Okay," amended James, "maybe not plenty of times, but more than once."

Lily smiled to herself. "And I thought it was going to be a day for the history books," Lily grinned, quoting James.

He laughed appreciatively. "No, I think that day was a few years back," he said, while stroking an imaginary goatee.

Lily chuckled lightly. James grinned again.

He has a nice smile, Lily noted absently. He has a nice laugh too. It must be what other people call and 'infectious laugh'…

James' next question pulled Lily out of her thoughts.

"Now, Lily Evans, why would a girl so obviously against shopping—such as yourself—be at a mall?" inquired James, in the manner of a television show anchor interviewing a celebrity.

Lily smiled softy and shook her head at James' dramatic antics. "Funny story, actually," replied Lily.

"How's it 'funny'?" asked James, obviously confused.

"Well, it's not 'conventionally funny,' but it's somewhat ironic." Lily paused. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded. James, who had just had the oddest expression on his face, grinned sheepishly.

"Only you would use 'conventionally' in everyday conversation," he snickered.

Lily narrowed her eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked hotly.

"Nothing, nothing," James said hastily, once again holding up his hands in mock-surrender. "You're like Remus. You both have such large vocabularies."

"Says the guy who just said 'everyday conversation,'" Lily pointed out, raising an eyebrow at James.

James scowled and pouted like a five-year-old, which only made Lily laugh even more. He would have been a cute five-year-old…her traitorous brain thought, while dozing off…She immediately snapped back to her senses.

"Petunia wanted to go shopping with her friends, so Mum made me tag along for some quality 'sister-bonding' time," Lily quickly explained, with heavy sarcasm in her voice. "But obviously, her plan failed because I am not even within a ten feet radius of my dear sister," she finished.

"That's a pity," said James, somewhat absent-mindedly.

Lily looked at him weirdly. It was a pity…how? She continued glancing at him cautiously, just as her mother had done to her only hours before, and wondered what he was thinking about. Not that she wanted to know the ins and outs of James Potter's mind, of course. It was just—he looked as though he was actually thinking about something, and frankly, it was scaring her. He looked as though he was devising—no, concocting—a plan. James Potter and thinking never ended well with her involved.

Suddenly, James' eyes lit up as though he had an epiphany. "What do you say to showing me around this loving Muggle mall while your sister's shopping with her friends?"

Lily blinked, slightly off-put by his request. "Excuse me?" she asked, not thinking she had heard correctly.

"How would you feel about giving James Potter a grand tour of a Muggle mall?" he asked, grinning childishly.

"And what would possibly posses me to do that?" retorted Lily, sounding rather skeptical.

"It'll only be for a little bit. Then you can go do whatever you like to do, which—" he glanced down at Lily's wrinkled copy of Howard's End—"apparently, is reading books."

Lily narrowed her eyes slightly, a pensive look on her face. "Sure…" she agreed, not exactly sure what she was even agreeing to. "I'll show you around." She paused, and raised a threatening finger at an ecstatic-looking James. "However, you better not get me kicked out of this mall with your little 'Marauder antics'—do you hear?" she threatened.

James only grinned wider. "Oh, Evans, you know me so well." He smirked, and ran a hand through his hair.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest again.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it Evans," called Potter, already walking into the direction of another store. "I just won't get you kicked out of too many stores," he finished, grinning madly.

"Potter!" Lily seethed. "Don't make me regret this!" She huffed, and hurried after the new "tourist-of-sorts." She really hoped that she would not regret this. Oh, what did I just agree to?

Author's Note: Hehe…another fast update. The title of this chapter is a bit of an oxymoron. By the way, the book Lily bought in the first chapter was "Gone with the Wind." It's the only book I know that's the size of a freaking dictionary. (By the way, Paulette Goddard should have been Scarlett O'Hara. Just kidding…it's a Charlie Chaplin thing…)

Anyway, the book she was reading in the second chapter (the previous one) was "The Picture of Dorian Gray," if you haven't read it before. Obviously, "Howard's End" makes an appearance in this chapter. I actually just brought my own copy of "Howard's End" over Christmas…but I don't feel like reading it in public for fear I'd never hear the end of it…depending on who reads that statement, you might not understand it.

Anyway, I had trouble (and I obvious still do) with the flow of dialogue and such in this chapter. Oh well, it was the best I could do at the time. Maybe I'd go and edit this chapter later, if I feel like it.

I hope you enjoyed reading it more than I enjoyed writing it. Please review!

As always, thank you if you have read this far. It must have taken a great effort. I think this is the longest chapter yet.

Thanks again!

-Delia