MY LIFE IN A NUTSHELL
NARRATOR: Ms. Lily Evans
SUMMARY: It's the start of 7th year and things are beginning to spiral out of Lily's control. Follow her day-to-day adventures in this multi-chaptered fic about love, hate, and the many aspects of a 17-year-old witch's life.
RATING: T, for language, some visual imagery, and attempted humor.
Disclaimer: I wish.
I. CANNOT. STOP. WRITING.
Carry on.
There are times in life where you just want to open a window and throw your head outside to scream to the heavens.
And what do you scream to the heavens when this little feeling passes?
Well, why not go with the classics: "AAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHH!"
Combined with some other dirty phrases here and there, you've got yourself a good little tantrum that no one will know about (not counting, of course, anyone within a 10-mile radius who heard your clever little outburst).
But that's besides the point here. What could possibly have gotten me in this terrible trifle of a mood, are you wondering?
It's not so much a thing, as several things. And they all decided to attack right. At. This. Moment. And while today, like I predicted, was doomed from the start, my unhappiness really came down to one thing.
I got a D.
In Transfiguration.
I got a D.
D as in Dreadful, D as in Desperately Demanding the Dunce Cap.
And then stupid FUCKING life-is-so-easy James Potter, that idiotic SCOUNDREL, that absolute SCALLYWAG…
Oh dear, I sound like a pirate.
Continued.
"Bloody, FUCKING, godforsaken BASTARD!" I screamed the moment class let out. McGonagall had waited until the last minute before the bell to hand out our essays, congratulating us on our work in general, and suggesting that if we HADN'T done so excellently, to come see her after class.
I swear, she'd been looking at me when she'd uttered those words, her sharp eagle eyes boring into my forehead. But, of course, silly oh-so-confident Lily didn't take these matters into account, oh, NO. Lily actually was under the impression that she'd done TERRIFICALLY on the essay that she'd spent FIVE FUCKING HOURS revising.
Well, Lily was wrong. Hellishly, hellishly wrong. Third person interlude over.
I had received a considerable shock upon viewing the scrawled, scarlet "D", inked upon my paper as if scratched upon my skin. It certainly stung like a scratch would, and it took me a while to register the paper in front of me, trying to convince my eyes that there was something wrong. But up and down the paper I saw the red marks and corrections, hastily scribbled, almost frustrated, even.
Honestly, Transfiguration had never been my forte. But I hadn't been soterrible at it, for there had to be a reason behind me being in the NEWT class, no? But there it was, right in front of me, the sharp, cutting "D" scribbled deep into the parchment. I almost sobbed right then and there.
And, to make matters worse, Sirius Black decided to pop up behind me and snatch my essay away from me, with little hoots and hollers.
"My, oh, MY, is that a D I see here?" Sirius shouted gleefully, successfully gaining the attention of the rest of the class. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, Alice and Marlene looking at me sympathetically, along with Emmeline Vance looking downright angry from across the room.
"Black, stop teasing her," Vance demanded, but of course her requests fell on deaf ears.
Good girl, that Emmeline Vance.
"A D? Could it be?" James gasped, playing along with Sirius's mood, grabbing my essay from Sirius's slimy fingertips.
"Give. It. BACK." I hissed, trying my hardest to sound threatening but failing miserably. Tears were choking up my throat already and I knew it was only a matter of time before they'd be spilling over my eyes, running down my cheeks. I would humiliatemyself.
I was already humiliated.
"Oh, golly gee, it IS!" cried James, waving my essay about in the air like a flag. The other students were giggling, if at my dismal failure or James's foolishness, I had no idea.
"Potter, you give that back, or I swear, I'll hex you dead!" I hissed.
"Don't, Lily dear, think about our children," He winked.
The laughter of my classmates rang in my ears and I saw red.
"Fuck it, Potter, you slug! Give the essay BACK!" I screamed, grabbing my wand.
"No," Potter pouted, then smiled again. "Hey, Evans, do you want to know what I got? Do ya, do ya?"
"No, I don't bloody care– "
"He got an O!" Sirius chirped delightedly, rubbing the paper in my face, waving it before my eyes. "O, as in Outstanding," Sirius furthered, as if I was an idiot.
"I know what an O stands for, I'm not stupid," I bit back.
Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Because this essay speaks otherwise."
The laughter of the classroom echoed off of the stone walls, pounding into my skull. It hurt.
And, oh no - I could feel that terrible lump in my throat, the pressure building behind my eyes, and my vision slowly blurring as my eyes welled up with tears.
I was NOT going to cry.
Well, maybe a little.
The moment the first tear slipped from my eye, James's entire mood changed. His face fell and instead of delighted, he looked devastated, and he bent down and suddenly scrambled around in search for his wand.
What was the idiot doing?
I couldn't exactly see what happened next, and only heard James mutter quietly to himself, but the next thing I knew he was standing up again, holding his essay in his hands.
"Hold up, Sirius," he proclaimed loud enough for the listening class to hear. "I think there's been a mistake."
"What?" Sirius replied, his laughter dying on his lips.
"I didn't get an Outstanding. Lily did," James confessed, holding out the essay that had been his, an essay that was written entirely in –
My handwriting? But it couldn't be! Sirius had all but shoved it in my face before, the O had been clearly marked on James's paper.
"And, well, fuck," James said, looking at the essay that was originally mine. "It seems I got a D."
Sirius spluttered and snatched the parchment away from him. Upon it was McGonagall's clearly written D, standing out against James's spindly scrawl.
"But – mate – I swear, this was Lily's – " Sirius began.
"I guess not, James shrugged, frowning. "Huh, the essays got mixed up."
I was immensely confused, if not a bit relieved. It seemed that all the students were confused as well, Sirius especially.
James's essay had clearly been an Outstanding. I had seen it the first time around, examined the handwriting when Sirius had first showed it off to me. It had definitely been James's.
And I had the D. Right? But, well, I hadn't exactly thought to check the name…
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and then it dawned on me.
Potter had used a forging charm!
The tricky cockroach! That terrific pest!
That…nice…person.
Why? Why would he do that? Just like the inconsiderate bastard, to go and make fun of me and then confuse me with a shining ray of gallantry in the end.
He caused my problem. So what if he fixed it in the end? The shite had still messed things up in the beginning. Utter arsehole.
Still thoroughly upset, my embarrassment heating up my face, I waited anxiously for the bell, tearing out of the classroom before leaning against a wall and cursing like a sailor.
Which brings me to where I am now.
"Bugger, shit, FUCK – "
"Whoa there, Evans," Black said from behind me. The Marauders had approached, and they all looked quite nervous.
"YOU!" I screamed, turning and stabbing my wand at his throat. He shrank back in terror. "YOU, YOU SLIMY, DASTARDLY WANKER! YOU UTTER WASTE OF SPACE AND TIME! YOU GIT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME?" My screeches rebounded off of the castle walls, enhancing my words.
Sirius and the rest of the Marauders looked as if they'd been blown backward by the force of an explosion.
"Now, Lily, calm down, we can sort this out – " James began.
"As for YOU!" I continued, and James stumbled backward, terrified. "WHY I OUGHT TO – "
"Lily?" Peter squeaked, cowering back. "Erm, Evans?"
"WHAT!" I thundered.
"Well, um, here's your, your essay," Peter whimpered, tossing the parchment to me. I caught it deftly in my hands, snatching it out of the air and opening it to make sure that it was indeed mine.
Reading it, I realized that this time my essay neither read O, nor D – in fact, it had a pleasant E written across the title.
"Wh-what?" I asked, thoroughly bewildered. "But I thought I had a D."
"I thought you had an O," Sirius said, just as puzzled.
"I used a forging charm," James explained, at the same time that I exclaimed, "He used a forging charm." James cast me an odd look.
Understanding dawned on Sirius's face. The stupid, slow moron.
"Clever save, Prongs," Sirius said in awe, clapping James on the back. James grinned.
"It was a clever save," I agreed, my tone a little less hostile but still threatening. "And if not for that clever save, you, Sirius, and both your souls would be prancing about with monsters at the moment."
Sirius cringed, but James just winked cheekily.
"You knew you'd regret it," James replied airily.
"There's still one thing I don't understand," I said quizzically. "Why do I have an E, then?"
"There was an actual mix-up of the essays," Remus clarified. "Peter got the D."
So I hadbeen wrong, someway or another. Oh, I was such a complete and utter imbecile. I deserved the D if I hadn't even checked to see whether or not it was my own name scribbled across the top.
"Oh," I said, still baffled. Peter blushed slightly. Remus shrugged.
"So…everything's good? James asked sheepishly, his eyes hopeful.
This had been the first truly terrible thing the Marauders had done to me in a while. Truthfully, I'd been expecting it for weeks now. I was spending a lot more time with them than usual, and their tricks were to be anticipated and tolerated. I guess we'd both just been waiting for things to blow up like they just did.
I could live with it.
Right.
The Marauders, meanwhile, were waiting for my response with bated breath.
"Never in a million years," I snapped, my words followed by their disappointed exhale. But then I smiled, and their expressions turned hopeful once more. "That was a decent save though, Potter. Props for that."
I walked away, waving behind my back, my stomach growling for lunch. I could feel James's grin behind me as I turned the corner.
"Well now, that can't be it," I said to myself, vexed, looking at Colin Cresswell's potion. It was turning a sickly green when it should've been pearly white for several minutes now. Glancing down at the Potions textbook and up again at Cresswell's cauldron, I sighed, defeated. I could see Cresswell's shoulders slump sadly out of the corner of my eye.
"I'm hopeless, aren't I?" Cresswell moaned dejectedly, drooping over onto the table.
"Slightly, I'm afraid," I answered honestly, and he lifted his head to glower at me before rolling his eyes.
I turned back to my potion. It had been simmering for the required ten minutes, and I'd taken up the waiting time by attempting to help Cresswell with his hopeless potion. I carefully dipped a ladle into the white sheen of my potion and emptied its contents into a vial stopper before placing it gently on the rack. I turned back to Cresswell.
"Let's fix this up, yeah?" I started, once again determined to actually have some effect on Cresswell's miserable failure. It seemed as if I wasn't the only one having a bad day today.
A small, familiar voice spoke up from behind me.
"Erm, Lily? Could I have a word?" Miranda asked nervously, tapping my shoulder. Cresswell glanced at her oddly, as if analyzing her.
"Aren't you Diggory's flavor of the week?" Cresswell asked her rudely, a small smirk on his face.
"The week's over," Miranda answered coldly, turning back to me with a pleading look in her eyes. "Please, Lily? A word?"
I had been wanting to talk to Miranda, eventually, though "eventually" had actually meant "in another century or so", but I guess this was as good a time as any.
"Sure," I replied calmly. I put out the fire underneath my cauldron with my wand, bringing the cauldron and its leftover contents up to the front of the room to a pleased Slughorn.
Walking back, I turned to my despondent potions partner. "Shut your trap and try not to make anything explode, Cresswell. Please."
Cresswell raised an eyebrow. "No promises."
I shook my head and sighed, and followed Miranda to the corner of the room where she and Robert Fawcett had been attempting to brew the potion, too. Miranda's, while not yet finished, looked passible. Robert's looked positively dreadful.
"Lily!" Robert chirped, brightening upon seeing me. "You're such a dear, our beautiful goddess, our intoxicating enchantress, our sexiest presence! Our absolutely divineexpert little potions master – could you possibly - ?" He gestured to his Cauldron Catastrophe.
"Not a chance," I snapped, and Robert glared. Miranda tugged on my sleeve. "Lily," she cried exasperatedly. I reluctantly turned to her, and our eyes met. We stared at each other suspiciously for a moment.
Then Miranda began crying.
Horrified, I could only stand still as she launched her tiny frame at me, wrapping fragile arms around my waist. I held her close, patting her back awkwardly as her hysterical sobs racked through her body.
"Oh, Lily, I can't believe what I've done!" she wailed. "I've lost everyone, I really have – "
"Calm, Miranda," I reassured her, trying desperately to maintain some sort of sense and control in this situation. We were already getting a good amount of stares. I could see James, across the room and next to Black, looking quizzically at me over Miranda's shoulder. Sirius, however, didn't even spare her a glance.
"But I c-can't!" Miranda blubbered, removing her head from my shoulder for a moment. Her eyes were wide and her makeup slightly smeared. "Oops, hang on, let me get that – " she said, her crying stopping immediately, whipping out her wand and drying my shoulder of her soggy eyeliner-mascara enhanced tears.
There was an awkward pause.
"Sorry." Miranda bit her lip, all signs of madness now gone, replaced by hesitancy and nerves.
"You're going to have to be a little bit more specific if you want any semblance of forgiveness," I said somewhat cruelly.
Miranda frowned, but took this all in stride. "I have a lot of explaining to do."
"You bet your skinny arse you do," I agreed.
From behind us, Robert remarked, "It may be skinny, but it's still quite fine – "
Both Miranda and I turned around and cast silencing charms on Fawcett's big mouth. As a result of the two strong silencios, Fawcett began scrambling at his throat, desperately trying to indicate to someone that something was wrong. Before we knew it, sparkles began to flutter from Fawcett's lips.
"Is that…glitter?" I asked curiously.
"Yeah," Miranda replied, just as amazed. "I never knew a silenciocould do that."
Fawcett continued to gag on the fine powdered glitter he was emitting from his mouth. Miranda and I made it a point to ignore him.
"I need to apologize for everything I've done in the past month or so," Miranda confessed. "I've been nothing but a bitter, bothersome little pest – "
"How right you are," I smiled.
Miranda made as if to retort, but reconsidered. "I'm sorry for ditching you for Eva and Jane. I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate to everyone's feelings lately. I had a plan, you know, reasons for all my actions – but then it just spiraled out of control, and turned into something completely different."
"We all have good intentions," I replied, "but when it comes down to it, people aren't going to pay attention to what you mean – only to what you do."
"Lily," Miranda whispered, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me slightly. "I was trying to helpyou."
"By betraying me?" I accused, wriggling out of her grip.
I was dimly aware that Fawcett was now coughing up concentrated clouds of sparkles, twinkling puffs that coated his surroundings in shimmering dust. I heard someone cry, "Help him!"
"Not by betraying you," Miranda shook her head. "By trying to get others to reason with you. By protecting you."
"I'm not following this," I said, puzzled.
"Eva and Jane have been plotting against you for ages, you know that," Miranda explained, and I knew that I was about to learn the whole story. "There was a reason to why Eva was trying to get you to agree to that scheme of hers, the bet. She wanted you to agree, so she could expose you to James, so James would break and go to her for comfort."
"But I didn't agree," I snapped. I knew this all already.
"She was going to tell James that you did, though," Miranda continued. "She had a plan. And, honestly, at first I just wanted to get rid of the Marauders, and figured you did too. We've hated them all these years, haven't we? That's why I was originally swayed over to Eva's ideas, but then I began to realize that what she was doing would hurt everyone, including you, but not just you. It would hurt Potter, it would hurt his friends, and all of us, too."
Sparkles covered the table and Fawcett's cauldron. The air around him was so dense with glitter that I almost couldn't see him, but I could certainly still hear his wretches as he continued to choke.
Miranda, absolutely oblivious to the scene in front of us, went on. "So I went into the enemy front lines for us. I was going to try to reason with Eva so she'd give up the game, and perhaps resolve the tensions we've had with them – I should have known it was impossible, I should've never attempted it. But I did, and then I got in way over my head."
Miranda began whispering. "Those girls have terrible, terrible problems. Psychologically, and socially, they can't handle themselves – we look at them as the banes of our existences, but they have just about as much control over themselves as we do over the rest of the world. Eva has her eating disorders, and Jane's just all around messed up. She can't live a moment without a conflict on her shoulders."
Robert was still choking. Sparkles coated his tongue.
Miranda, still ignoring him, had more to say. "Jane began to see through my plans, and decided to expose Eva's bet with you and start Eva's original plot before I could sway Eva over to my side of reason. Eva began to feel betrayed by Jane, and Eva looked to me for support because Jane's really the only friend she has. Jane will tell anyone anything, and Eva was afraid of that. So I was stuck with them until I just couldn't take it anymore. I told them to stuff it two days ago." She grinned at the memory.
"And how did that go over?" I responded, relatively amused by this whole thing if not increasingly annoyed by these problems. I chanced a glance at Robert to see him on the floor, gagging, gleaming dust now full-on pouring from his lips.
"Not very well. I'm afraid they hate us even more now," Miranda said, mystified and disgruntled.
"Miranda," I started, then stopped, trying to think of what exactly I was going to say. Of what I could say. "We – Alice, Marlene and I – are your best friends. We've been this way since the beginning, and you know we always will be. I don't see why you couldn't have just told us your plan all along. Then maybe we'd have less of a mess on our hands. But I do understand that you wanted to try to mend things – it's just, sometimes you can't do that on your own. And that's where mates come in." I smiled supportively at her and she smiled weakly back.
"But there's still one thing we have to discuss," I continued. "Diggory."
Miranda actually collapsed on the glitter-coated ground in displeasure. "No! Please, anything but that."
"Not now, you dimwit," I teased, helping her up. "But soon, I assure you. Now, I'm afraid we've got a certain Robert Fawcett to take care of – he's still choking up glitter, as far as I know. And his potion looks absolutely appalling. Not to mention Colin Cresswell's, I still need to help him, too," I added.
Robert glared at us for the rest of the period despite our enthusiastic help to his potion disaster, and turned in a vial that was considerably more sparkly than the rest of the class's.
Today had been a productive day, it certainly had.
Read and review, please. I've got the next chapter lined up as well.
-.x.