Something Next to Normal

A Light in the Dark - Star Wars

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 14:41:30 GMT

Title: A Light in the Dark
Fandom: Star Wars
Summary: She wasn't supposed to live. She didn't want to. She lost the will to live, yet she had somehow survived.
Characters: Padme, Luke
Rating: PG
Pairings: None. Well, Padme/Anakin, kind of.
Time Period: About four years post ROTS. AU.
Word Count: ~2200
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.
General Notes: Dedicated to my friend Amy who made me watch Star Wars for the first time over the summer. Thank you!

I died a long time ago. Not in the physical sense. But emotionally, mentally, spiritually, I died. I can still remember the meddroids saying that I was dying because I had lost the will to live. Yet I hadn’t died. No one dies because they lost the will to live. They live. They live as hollow, empty shells of the people they once were. And in a sense, an emotional, mental, spiritual sense, they are dead. But physically, they are forced to continue living. Whether they want to or not. And I hadn’t wanted to, but I had. And I now lived a sort of half-life. Stuck in the past, unable to move forward. My thoughts all centered around one person – my Ani.

His fall to the dark side had taken its toll on me. My dreams – my nightmares – were all of Anakin. My thoughts were all of Anakin. I spent my time watching the HoloNet, looking for any news of whatever Anakin was calling himself these days. I was barely aware of what was going on around me. Nothing could break me from the stupor that came over me when the mask that covered Ani’s face appeared on the HoloNet. He never seemed to be on there long enough. The image was always too short. The familiar feeling akin to deflation came over me as the mask disappeared. The real world slowly set in and I started to wait patiently again until he reappeared once more.

My attention shifted as I became aware of an odd tugging sensation on my arm. I tried to shrug away whatever had grabbed me – probably Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had often tried to get me away from HoloNet, to go back to living some kind of normal life. But life would never be normal again without Anakin. And eventually Obi-Wan reluctantly accepted my decision. But Obi-Wan wasn’t giving up this time. The tugging was becoming more and more persistence until I finally glanced down. I let out a gasp as I identified the source of the tugging.

Anakin.

A smaller, child-version of Anakin. The little version of Anakin reached over and crawled into my lap. He was younger than I had ever seen Ani though, probably around three or four. And he was smaller too in terms of his build, his frame more wiry than Ani’s had been. His face wasn’t nearly as round as Ani’s. But his eyes were the same shade of blue, though. And his hair was the exact same blonde as Ani’s. It wasn’t Anakin. It couldn’t be. And I knew that it wasn’t him, but still...

He looked too much like Anakin to be anyone else.

“Ani?”

My voice wavered as I spoke his name, waiting for the child’s reaction. The boy scrunched up his face in distaste at the words.

“Luke,” he corrected.

My eyes widened.

And I remembered a happier time with Ani.

“It means light. We could use some light now.”

Luke. That was the name he had chosen for our son. That was the name I had given our son. But our son was a baby. Obi-Wan would place him and Leia in my arms while I watched the HoloNet for news of Anakin. Obi-Wan hadn’t done it in awhile… when was the last time? Had so many years really passed? Could my son really be so big? So grown up? At least three years of his life passing without me noticing any of it?

No. It couldn’t be him. It wasn’t. Maybe I had been a little out of it lately. It had been a few weeks. Months, maybe. Not years. Not my son. He couldn’t be. He was too old. Too big.

“Luke?” I asked tentatively. He nodded absentmindedly as he pulled at my arms. He was adjusting them so that they circled protectively around him. Had it really been so long since I had held my son that he had taken it upon himself?

“You’re so big.”

He smiled up at me with Anakin’s smile.

“I’m smaller than almost everyone in my class. Leia too. But Obi-Wan says I’m just the right size. He says I’m Luke-sized.”

I barely had time to take in all of his words. Class? My children had started school already? And I had missed it. I’ve missed so much of their lives without even realizing it. Barely aware of what was going on around me, so absorbed in my own problems. Mourning the loss of my Anakin and completely ignoring the existence of my children.

“Luke-sized,” I repeated.

He nodded enthusiastically. His enthusiasm was exhilarating; it was infectious. I couldn’t help but smile at him. It was such a strange unfamiliar sensation as my lips twisted into the once familiar, but long-forgotten gesture. I wondered briefly if it had been the same for Anakin.

“Leia teases me ‘bout it sometimes. She says that Obi-Wan kidnapped me from Jawas and that we’re not really twins. But she’s a liar. ”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I didn’t know my own children. I knew nothing about Luke except for what he had just told me. He was short for his age and his sister teased him sometimes. Leia. I knew nothing about her except for what Luke was telling me. Apparently, she wasn’t very nice to her brother. I tried to conjure up an image of her; I tried to picture her in my mind. But nothing came. I choked back a sob.

“You okay?” he asked, looking concerned and uncomfortable.

No.

“What else does Leia lie about?”

Luke smiled mischievously. Something told me that I shouldn’t trust anything that Luke was about to tell me. Perhaps Leia wasn’t the only liar in this family.

If what we were could be called a family, that is.

A mother who couldn’t cope.

A father who was a mass murderer.

Twins that were apparently compulsive liars.

And a man who was not related to any of them who both a father and a mother to the twins.

“Everything. Leia lies ‘bout everything. Like the other day, Leia and I were playing inside and we – maybe, kind of, sort of – broke… some stuff. But it wasn’t my fault! Leia did it! You should put her in time-out when she comes back or ground her or sell her to smugglers or something.”

When Leia comes back? And I suddenly realize that I truly am the worst mother in the world. I didn’t even know where my daughter was. I didn’t know what my daughter looked like. And I didn’t know anything about my son.

“Where’s Leia?”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“She went with Obi-Wan to get some more blue milk because we ran out at breakfast. I wanted to go too, but not with Leia.”

“Why did they leave you here?”

Why did they leave you here with me?

In other words…

Why did they leave you here alone?

“Threepio’s here, but he was being all annoying so I shut him off him even though Obi-Wan told me not to. I shut him off last time too because I wanted to talk to you, but you were too busy watching the HoloNet, so you didn’t say anything that time. You won’t tell him will you?” he replied pointing to the immobile droid against the wall, completely unaware of the effect that his words were having on me. Luke had tried to talk to me before. And I had ignored him. I couldn’t even remember what he was talking about. I was so oblivious to anything that wasn’t Anakin. My son had tried to talk to me and I hadn’t even responded at all. I was so far gone that Obi-Wan trusted an annoying protocol droid to watch over my son instead of me.

And with good reason. Threepio was probably far more qualified to watch after Luke than I was. The knowledge left a terrible sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

“I won’t tell anyone, Luke. But you’ll probably have to turn him back on or I won’t be much help when Obi-Wan comes back,” I said, trying to hide my guilt and grief from my son. Luke shot a wide grin at me.

“I will. I always do.”

Always. Did they leave Luke behind often? Had Luke tried to talk to his unresponsive mother often before?

“Do they always leave you behind?”

“No. Sometimes I go with ‘em when I don’t hate Leia. And sometimes it’s just me an’ Obi-Wan and we leave Leia behind. And sometimes Leia and I both stay behind and we like to look through…”

Luke froze and grinned guiltily. I was about to ask what he and Leia did when Obi-Wan left them behind, but he started talking animatedly once more before I even had the chance to get the words out. It seemed like a skill that he had already perfected, probably after years of practice on Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan said he would teach me to pilot a starship when I turn ten, but I think I can make him teach me a little sooner. He says that if I’m anything like…”

Luke stopped once more. He looked carefully at my face, gauging my reaction.

“Like your father?”

Luke stared at me once more with an impassive look that I suspect he learned from Obi-Wan. He nodded.

“Yeah. Obi-Wan says I’m a lot like him when he was younger.”

“You look like him.”

“I know. Obi-Wan showed us holos of him. He was a Jedi! And I’m gonna be a Jedi just like him! Leia told me that I was too short to be a Jedi, but I’m gonna be one anyways! Like my father!”

I wondered what Luke knew of his father. Did he know what had become of Anakin? Did he want to become a Jedi in spite of what had happened to his father or would his dream of becoming a Jedi disappear as soon as he found out? What had Obi-Wan told them? She should have been the one to tell them. Did they think he was dead? Did they wonder why she was so fascinated with Darth Vader? Or did they know?

“I miss him too.”

“What?”

“I miss him too,” Luke repeated.

“Obi-Wan? Won’t he be back soon?”

“No! Not him. Well, kind of, but… I miss him,” Luke said as if placing the emphasis on the second “him” would somehow make who he missed clearer.

“Dad. I miss him.”

But Luke didn’t…

Luke couldn’t…

It wasn’t possible…

Was it?

“Sometimes I dream about him,” Luke continued.

I dream about him too. Usually with yellow eyes surrounded by flames that were unrecognizable to me. I wondered whether or not Luke’s dreams were similar. And I prayed to the Force that they weren’t.

Luke answered my unasked question.

“I dream about all of us together. And we’re happy. Dad’s there. And you’re there. And Obi-Wan and me.”

I smiled, noticing that Luke had left a certain family member out of the picture.

“And Leia?”

“She’s there, but she’s nicer. I like her better in dreams.”

I let out a small laugh. Luke smiled, looking pleased that he had gotten such a reaction from me.

“What happens in your dreams?”

“Nothin’. We do normal stuff. Sometimes we’re all just eating together. And other times we just all talk or play a game or something. You know, normal stuff.”

My hand wanders up towards Luke’s face and I carefully stroke my son’s hair for what I’m sure is the first time ever. Luke throws himself into my chest and wraps his arms around me. And then for the first time ever, I’m hugging my son so tightly that I’m almost afraid that I’ll crush him, but I still can’t bring myself to let go.

“I love you, Luke,” I whisper. “I wish I could give you the life in your dreams.”

That’s when I notice that Vader – my Ani – is back on the HoloNet. His deep, steady voice is drawing me back into a trance. My grip on Luke slackens. I can’t see Luke’s face anymore, but I can picture the expression of shock and horror on his face. And I can’t really bring myself to care about it at the moment. I think I can hear his voice shouting something, but it seems to fade into indistinct background noise.

Anakin isn’t the only one lost in the darkness. I’m lost in a different kind of darkness. My grief surrounds me the same way the dark side of the Force surrounds Ani. And I know nothing but my grief. It suffocates me and pervades my sense until I can neither see nor hear nor feel anything else. But then, I have something Anakin doesn’t.

I have Luke.

I have Luke who has just stood up and blocked my view of his father, in the way that Obi-Wan has ineffectively tried so many times in the past.

Luke whose name means light. It seems so perfect.

“I love you too, Mom.”

Luke. A light in the dark.

Type your cut contents here.

The Ending of a Fixation - Chapter 1 - Twilight

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 14:03:40 GMT

Title: The Ending of a Fixation
Fandom: Twilight
Summary: It’s hard work to be hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t even know you exist. That’s why I've finally decided to move on with my life. Anyway, it’s not like tomorrow’s the day when Jared’s finally going to start noticing me.
Characters: Jared, Kim
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Jared/Kim
Word Count: ~1400
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

In my opinion, there are two types of girls. First of all, there is the heart-on-your-sleeve, love-conquers-all, hopeless romantic who reads trashy romance novels with half-naked men on the cover. Then, there are people who take a more practical approach towards life, a think-with-your-head, never rushes into anything without first considering it. While many of the girls at my school would definitely fall into the first category, I am proud to say that I belong to the second category.

More or less…

Possibly less…

Well, I would fall into that category if it weren’t for an annoyingly perfect someone who I practically know I have no future with, but who I secretly fantasize about asking me out, much to my displeasure. So, perhaps, I am somewhere in the middle of those categories. Not quite belonging in one or the other. Definitely not in the first, but still not quite in the second. Almost in the second though. Kind of.

At least I don’t read trashy romance novels. Well, maybe once. But it was a book I had stolen from Caroline, my older sister, years ago before I had any idea what any of it meant. Thankfully, my father saw me with it and ripped it out of my hands before I could actually get into any of the really smutty parts.

But that’s all beside the point. The real point I was trying to make here was the distinction between the two types of girls. Personally, I feel that even if I do have some sort of multiple personality disorder and do possess both types within me, the practical part is the dominant part.

And it’s not just a practicality in the romantic department; it’s more of a general practicality. And it’s something I’m proud of actually. That I have the ability to think logically about my choices and decisions before making them. However, it doesn’t always work out so well. I see him and the practical part flies out the window and in comes the hopeless romantic.

A feeling of soaring happiness floats through my body, making me feel light as a feather as I realize that he’s looking at me. No, he’s not looking. He’s staring. At me! And the hopeless romantic in me is flying while the practical part of me drags it down. He can’t be staring at me for a number of reasons.

First of all, why would he stare at me? I’ve been around for years and he’s hardly ever looked at me twice. And honestly, out of all the girls in the school to stare at, I’m sure I would not be his first choice since I’m not exactly what you’d call pretty.

Secondly, even if he were staring at me, it would probably be for some weird reason, like something stuck in my teeth or toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something else equally embarrassing.

And third of all, he can’t stare at me because when he does, it renders me absolutely pathetic in his presence. And pathetic-ness is not an option since I’ve decided to move on. And I can’t move on if I’m staring pathetically at him. So he really, really can’t be staring at me.

Or approaching me!

It’s not freaking possible that he’s approaching me right now. No, he couldn’t be. Soon, he’ll walk past me and I’ll discover that I’ve been standing around like a pathetic mess for no reason. And I’ll feel awful. And tomorrow, I’ll get over him tomorrow. I’ll start being barely aware of existence tomorrow.

But if he keeps standing right in front on my locker like he is right now, then it’s going to be pretty hard.

“Um, hi.”

My voice barely squeaks out and I feel ridiculous and now he thinks that I sound like Squeaky Fromme. If he knows who she is. He probably does since he’s all-around brilliant. So now he’s probably mentally comparing me with a crazy person.

And I can feel my face slowly heat up and I know my cheeks are red, so I quickly look down at my feet.

“Um, hi,” he says sounding strangely nervous. My head shoots up instantly and I wonder what he could possibly have to be nervous about.

“Hi.”

Then I blush again, realizing that I’ve just said hi to him twice. But he looks more amused by my words than anything else. He’s smiling at me with a strange expression on his face that I can’t quite identify. And I offer him my own tentative smile in return.

“Could you – I mean, do you think th-that you could maybe… move?” I stumbled over the words. Mumbling too. It’ll be a miracle if he understood anything that I just said.

My face feels hotter. My heart is racing faster. My palms are sweatier.

“What?”

“It’s just that you’re standing in front of my locker.”

And I am so thankful that I was able to get out all of the words without stuttering this time. Jared’s reaction isn’t quite what I expected. He moves aside instantly – which I did actually expect since he is practically a saint after all. But his face falls as if he’s just done something absolutely horrible and he nervously stutters – yes, he actually stutters! – so much that I can barely understand the words he’s saying, but I think he is trying to apologize. And his nervousness seems to give me the confidence that I have been lacking so far.

“It’s fine,” I say, proud of the steadiness in my voice.

But he continues to apologize anyways.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to. I just really wanted to… talk to you.”

I freeze. I had imagined this moment. I even wrote about in my diary. And then I crossed it out, so ashamed that I had ever even done that.

“You wanted to what now?”

“Um, talk. To you! I was thinking that we’ve gone to school for years and years.”

“Just two,” I corrected. “I just moved here two years ago.”

“Oh, why?”

Why? Because my parents were divorced, my father died, and my sister and I had no choice but to live with our mother. Although I use the term mother quite loosely.

However, none of this is actually anything I feel like discussing with anyone, even someone as perfect as Jared.

“I’m not actually comfortable talking about that.”

“I’m sorry!” he apologized much more earnestly than the situation warranted again.

“Don’t worry about it! Really!” I said, not anxious to listen to him stumble over another apology. “It’s not you. I don’t talk about it with anyone.”

He nodded understandingly.

“Okay. But I was saying that we’ve gone together to school for two years. And I don’t really know you at all. So, I thought that maybe we could get to know each other better.”

I nodded, not entirely comprehending the conversation. It feels almost like a fantasy, but it feels so real at the same time too.

And I just don’t understand…

Why would he do this?

And then the only possible logical explanation – the illogical explanation being that he is actually interested in me – is that sweet, perfect Jared had to make himself even more perfect by befriending poor, homely, nerdy people. Damn him! This was going to make it even harder to move on.

“So, what do you think?”

What do I think?

A world of no.

No, no thanks. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want to raise my hopes by foolishly thinking that this is actually an invitation on a date. And I don’t want to feel this way about you anymore. I don’t know if I’m in love with you or not, but I don’t like it. So, no, sorry, can’t.

But it’s not like I could say all that to him.

“I don’t want…”

His face is falling. He looks completely heartbroken. And I feel heartbroken just from looking at his crestfallen face.

“It’s okay. If you don’t want to.”

“I do want to!” I protest, realizing just how much I really did want to. But at the same time… Ugh! Why was my life so freaking complicated? I want something and I don’t want something. And I’m not sure how I feel and everything is just so complicated. Why can’t things be simpler?

“Okay. Right now?”

“Well, I have class right now.”

“After school then?”

“Um, sure.”

“Great! See you then!”

What the hell just happened?!

The Ending of a Fixation - Prologue - Twilight

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 05:36:31 GMT

Title: The Ending of a Fixation
Fandom: Twilight
Summary: It’s hard work to be hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t even know you exist. That’s why I've finally decided to move on with my life. Anyway, it’s not like tomorrow’s the day when Jared’s finally going to start noticing me.
Characters: Jared, Kim
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Jared/Kim
Word Count: ~900
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

Prologue

It’s hard work to be hopelessly in love someone who doesn’t even know you exist.

Well, I suppose that’s not entirely accurately. And I should probably set the record straight right now.

It’s not love.

I don’t love him.

At least, I don’t think I love him.

I’ve never actually been in love before, so I can’t really say for certain whether I love him or not. At times, I wonder how love could feel any stronger than what I feel for him. But I’m still not so sure it’s love. And I obviously can’t compare it to anything. But I believe that in order to be in love with someone, you have to, you know, at least have had a conversation with the object of your affection at some point. Which I haven’t. So I’m going to say that the whole love thing is a no. No, what I feel for Jared is more like an extremely vivid infatuation with Jared.

And, quite honestly, it sucks.

A lot.

Oh, I hate it. I really, really hate it.

Sure it felt great and all at first, that giddy, lighthearted feeling that I get whenever he looked at me. Or looked in my general direction really. I’m sort of invisible. That’s one of the parts that suck. It wouldn’t be so bad if he actually knew who I was.

I could deal with it if he did.

He doesn’t.

It’s awful. And as I said, I really do hate it.

I hate that I have been hopelessly infatuated with the same person for the last two years. And I hate that in the past two years he’s never looked twice at me. I hate the way he constantly dominates my thoughts. I hate the way his smile makes my breath catch in my throat. I hate the way his presence (or lack of it) can brighten or completely dampen my mood for the entire day. He’s been sick for the past two weeks and they have been two of the most miserable weeks of my life. And I hate that my happiness depends on someone who doesn’t even know me. I hate this weird, freaky power that Jared seems to have over me. And I hate that he’s completely oblivious to it. Stupid, stupid Jared.

Actually the thing that bothers me the most about Jared, the thing that I really, really hate is the fact that he is so…

He is just so… nice.

According to all those stereotypical, you know, stereotypes, he should be one of those typical, arrogant, athletic, unintelligent jerks. Yeah, that’s so not him. No. He has to be extremely attractive, exceedingly nice, and amazingly smart. Stupid, perfect. If he could be just a little less perfect than this would all be so much easier. If he had some actually defect that I could hate him for. Then I could forget about Jared. I could move on. I could shift my attention to guys who actually notice that I exist. To guys that are actually interested in me. To guys that I actually have a shot with.

But, no, Jared has to be absolutely perfect. Completely un-hate-able. Oh, I really hate the way he makes me feel. I hate the way I act around him. I hate the things he does to me (even if he is completely unaware of it). But I can’t actually bring myself to hate him.

Oh, I really wish he could be just a little less perfect. It would really make my life a lot less complicated. But that’s not going to happen. It’s not like that I could go up to Jared, form a coherent sentence, and have that coherent sentence be: “Hey, Jared, I’m sort of not in love with you, but hopelessly infatuated with you or something like that. Anyway, if you could be a little less perfect so that I could get over my unhealthy fixation that I have with you? Yeah, that’d be great. Maybe you could kick some puppies around me or fail some tests or get an extremely unattractive haircut?”

Yeah, he’d be completely fine with that. Note sarcasm. I doubt it would even work. The proof that he isn’t perfect, is actually human, and has faults would probably attract me to him even more. No, I cannot rely on Jared to suddenly become imperfectly awful in order for this ridiculous fixation to end. I am going to have to end this weird obsession with Jared myself. I accept that Jared will never be a part of my life. I will move on and forget about him and focus my attention elsewhere.

Starting tomorrow. At school.

I will not think about Jared.

I will not allow myself to be brought down by his probable absence tomorrow.

I will not allow my sole happiness to depend on his potential presence tomorrow.

And if, by some chance, Jared is there tomorrow, I won’t even notice. I will ignore his presence. It’s not like it’ll be that hard. He’s barely aware of my existence. So, I’ll just have to be barely aware of his.

I can do this.

How hard can it be?

I mean, what’s the likelihood that tomorrow is the day he’ll return and decide that he can’t live without me?

Not likely.

( Chapter 1 )

Of the Past - Gilmore Girls

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 04:55:00 GMT

Title: Of the Past
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Summary: Tristan runs into Rory again in the place where he least expects it. At a party celebrating her engagement.
Characters: Tristan, Rory, Logan
Rating: PG
Pairings: Rory/Logan; Tristan/Rory
Word Count: ~1300
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.
Notes: One shot. AU-ish.

Of the Past

To think that he was never going to see her again was an absolutely ridiculous thought. They shared similar backgrounds to some degree. The same heritage, more or less. From the same society crowd. She may not have been raised in the same world as he was, but she was still a part of it. And when you're a part of something like that, it's nearly impossible to escape.

Still, he hadn’t been expecting it. And most definitely not tonight of all nights.

He was surprised. No, that would be an understatement. He was shocked. Stunned. Floored. To see her here of all of all places. And with him of all people. It was unexpected to say the least. It was unbelievable. Astonishing. Perplexing. Mind-boggling. It was a complete shock. Her protests throughout their high school days about how she would never go out with someone like him now seemed to ring loudly in his head. She had been so adamant then. So certain and sure. And now here he was watching her with someone who was essentially a carbon-copy of himself during high school.

It was not how he had pictured their meeting again. He had pictured it. Again and again. He went over in his mind the things he would say. How he would apologize. How he would flirt. How she would flirt back.

How they would finally end up together. Like they should have been all along.

Or not.

This meeting was not turning out to be at all like he imagined. She hadn't noticed him right away like she was supposed to. She hadn’t even glanced in his directions. He had been watching her for a good twenty minutes, and not once had she taken her eyes off of him.

He wasn't actually jealous though. He had thought he would be, but he wasn't. He could see it in her smile and the way she looked at him. She was happy. In a way that she had never been with him. And it made him happy to see her happy.

The one and only time that they had kissed, she had cried. He wouldn’t make her cry again. She was happy now. And he wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize her happiness now. This was why he resolved to be rude and leave without congratulating the happy couple. He turned for the door before he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from leaving.

“Hey, Tristan. I thought that was you.”

“Yeah, Logan, it's me,” he said painfully as Logan gave him a quick hug.

He and Logan had always gotten along so well. They had been best friends when they were younger. Always doing everything together until Tristan went to Chilton and Logan had gone elsewhere. They were still close afterwards too. They had e-mailed each other often. Tristan had told him about Chilton, about Mary, and then about Princeton. And Logan had written about his boarding school, then Yale, then his Ace.

“You're not leaving, are you? C'mon, man, you have to stay. We have to catch up. C'mon, tell me, what's new in your life.”

“Not much. You?”

“Engaged.”

“Figured as much with the party and all.”

“Yeah, well it took her awhile to give in and everything. She actually said no the first time I asked,” Logan told him.

Tristan felt a small smile playing on his lips at Logan’s words. She had said no the first time he asked. Tristan wondered if she would have eventually said yes to him too if he had stayed at Chilton. He wondered if it would make any difference as to the way things would have turned out.

“You have to meet her. She's amazing. You'll love her.”

“Oh, I'm sure I will,” Tristan muttered quietly to himself as he allowed himself to be pulled towards the woman he had been avoiding the whole night. The truth of his words not even registering in the mind of his friend.

“Ace!” Logan called.

Their eyes met finally. Not at all the way he had pictured it. Her fiancé dragging him unwilling towards the woman who had haunted him for years. Logan let go of Tristan and slid his arm around her waist. The jealously that had been evading Tristan earlier suddenly reared its ugly head. Tristan felt a great surge of dislike for his longtime friend. But it left as quickly as it had come when he saw just how happy she was with Logan.

“Ace, this is my good friend -”

“Tristan,” she breathed, her voice filled with shock.

She clearly never expected to see him again. He didn't want to react to her. He knew he shouldn't. Logan was his friend. He was a good friend to him. He didn't want this to get in the way of their friendship. He didn't want it to be awkward and uncomfortable for all three of them. He didn't want Logan to know that he had dreams about kissing and doing more with his friend’s fiancé. He didn't want to be put in this position. But he couldn't stop himself the words rolled off his tongue before he could stop himself. The way he was going to greet her. The way he had always imagined it in his head. It always began the same way.

“Hey, Mary, did you miss me?”

“Chilton wasn't the same without you to annoy me to death,” she responded quickly

“I'm sure Paris did a fine job of that without me there,” he answered.

Not quite what he had imagined. In all of the many ways, he had imagined this conversation, not one of them included Paris Gellar as a topic of conversation.

“She's not so bad anymore. And she’s here somewhere so be careful what you say. Her hearing is scarily good. We were actually roommates in college and we're friends now.”

“Well, I suppose a congratulations are in order then, aren't they, Mary?”

“Because I'm friends with Paris?” Rory asked.

“Mary, Mary, I thought you were smart.”

“I am, and stop calling me Mary, Bible Boy.”

“You prefer Ace?”

“Rory would be just fine.”

“Well, congratulations on your engagement then, Mary,” Tristan said before walking away.

Not at all like how he had thought it would be.

“I'm guessing you two know each other,” he heard Logan ask her as he headed away from the happy couple.

“High school.”

“Mary, huh?”

Tristan smiled briefly at the name and stopped walking for a second. He almost wanted to turn around… And do what? Tell her that she should break up with his good friend so that they could date? Then he heard her reply.

“Ace now.”

He started walking again. His Mary was of the past. She was Ace now.

Type your cut contents here.

The Gift - Supernatural

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 17:56:26 GMT

Title: The Gift
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: Mary was buried on John’s birthday. He never went to her funeral. Much to the shock and outrage of her family, John left Sam and Dean in the care of his inlaws twenty minutes before the funeral began and returned to their home.
Characters: Mary, John
Rating: PG
Pairings: Mary/John
Word Count: ~1100
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Notes: One shot.

Mary was buried on John’s birthday. He never went to her funeral. Much to the shock and outrage of her family, John left Sam and Dean in the care of his in-laws twenty minutes before the funeral began and returned to their home for the first time since the fire. He hadn’t intended to actually miss the funeral, but he didn’t mind. Burying an empty box in honor of his dead wife was not the way he wanted to spend his birthday

He gazed upon the charred remains of the home he had bought with Mary, wondering whether or not to go inside. Grief, fear and confusion rose inside of him as he thought of what he had seen that night. He opened the door.

The kitchen and living room remained unscathed, everything exactly as it had been the night of the fire. The unwashed dishes were lying in the sink, the TV was still playing quietly, Dean’s piles of toys were still scattered across the floors of the kitchen and living room. If it weren’t for the partially burnt staircase and the lingering smell of acrid smoke, no one would ever be able to tell that the fire had occurred.

John placed a foot on a charred stair. It creaked ominously. Every one of his instincts was telling him to stay instead of testing the unstable upstairs. But John slowly proceeded up the stairs anyway. He wandered from room to room, taking in all of the destruction, silently hoping the flimsy floor would support his weight. The charred beds, the piles of ash that used to be toys. Everything seemed to be black, except for a few select objects which miraculously escaped burning.

John methodically began picking up all that was left unharmed. A coloring book of Dean’s, a picture of John and Mary shortly after they had bought the house. He dropped both to the floor a glint of a light metallic blue caught his eyes from the closet in their bedroom. A gift wrapped in blue paper covered with black scorch marks. John picked up the card attached and read the inscription.

To John,

So you can write down all of your wonderful thoughts and I’ll finally know what you’re thinking about.

All my love,

Mary

John tore the blue paper off to reveal a brown journal. He smiled for the first time in days as he remembered a conversation he’d had with Mary a few days before the fire.

“You look…”

“Good?”

“Like you’re lost in your thoughts.”

“No.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing really.”

“You won’t say anything?”

“Nothing to say.”

John picked up the coloring book and photo again, along with the journal. The three things in the entire upstairs that had survived the fire. John walked out of the room and down the rickety and charred staircase. He focused on nothing else but the door leading the way out. John instinctively knew that he would never willingly live in the house again. He closed his eyes and effortlessly guided himself out the front door. He fumbled with the doorknob for a second, but finally made it outside.

“John Winchester!” a voice screeched. John’s eyes shot open as he recognized the voice as his mother-in-law’s. She had a firm grip on Dean’s hand who was struggling against her while she tightly held a sleeping Sammy in her arms. He stared at her in confusion for a few seconds until he understood. He had missed Mary’s funeral. It didn't bother him very much. It was not the way wanted to spend his birthday.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, the only sounds coming from Dean’s frustrated struggle for freedom from his grandmother. When she did speak, it completely caught John off-guard. He had prepared for yelling and screaming and hysteria, nothing that even resembled the calm tone she spoke with.

“I told her not to marry you,” she stated matter-of-factly, her tone giving no indication that she had just come from her daughter’s funeral. It was cool and rational and unforgiving.

“I know,” John admitted. His mother-in-law had never made any attempts to hide her disdain for her daughter’s choice in a husband.

“I thought you’d at least have the decency to show up at her funeral." Her voice was slowly and steadily filling with anger and fury.

"Funeral?" John repeated blankly. The words barely registered in his mind. Nothing had seemed to register yet. It all seemed like such a surreal dream. Like he would wake up any second and see Mary lying next to him.

"Yes! Her funeral! The thing that any decent husband would have attended!"

A funeral? Hardly. An empty box buried six feet in the ground with a stone with her name over it. When in reality, Mary had never been anywhere near there. And now never would be. Sammy began to wail loudly.

“What funeral? Fires don’t leave bodies. There was nothing there. You didn’t bury Mary. You’re buried an empty box and put her name on a stone,” John angrily defended his actions.

“It’s for closure!” his mother-in-law yelled.

“My wife is dead. And the thing that killed her is alive. Burying an empty coffin isn’t closure.”

She was stunned for a moment. As was he. Up until that moment, what John had seen had only haunted his thoughts. He never dared to say what he had seen until that moment. His mother-in-law unconsciouly loosened her grip on her grandchildren.

"Nothing killed her, John. It was an accident," she said letting another emotion besides anger pervade her voice.

"It wasn't," John protested. "It was murder."

"Who would want to kill Mary?"

"What. What would want to kill her? I don't know but whatever it is, I'm going to hunt it down and kill that son of a bitch," John resolved in that instant. He opened the back door of his car and tossed the few items in his hand on the floor. Dean had broken free and taken Sammy from his shocked grandmother's hands. He quickly ran to join his father and helped him strap Sammy in the carseat before driving away. Dean claimed the photo and the coloring book and John forgot about the journal for the time.

It laid forgotten in the car for weeks until John saw it after leaving from his first visit with Missouri. He carefully picked it up and turned it over in his hand. He scrambled for a pen, opened it to the first page, and wrote a single sentence.

I went to Missouri and learned the truth.

Morning People - Of Contracts and Compromises

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 16:34:07 GMT

Title: Morning People
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: When Lily said that she would rather spend the summer with anyone other than her sister, she did not mean to include James Potter.
Characters: Lily, James, Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Lily/James
Word Count: ~2800
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Notes: I just re-edited/re-wrote the Prologue and Chapter 1. But the differences aren't too significant. Oh, and of course if you haven't read this story before you may want to start by reading the Prologue.

Chapter 6: Of Contracts and Compromises

James felt the sickly familiar sensation of rejection sink into the pit of his stomach. He had been expecting it, of course. It would be ridiculous to expect anything else from her, and he was certainly used to it. He had been expecting her to get angry and shout. And a part of him had wanted her to. He wanted to cause her some sort of pain after what she had done to him. He wanted her to feel the same horrible things that he had felt. He wanted to see her as angry as he was.

James’ anger with Lily Evans had quickly subsided and morphed into anger at himself. He had been an idiot. A complete prat. He had seen the list that Evans had made and he let his anger get the better of him. And he had made everything worse. Evans had never looked at him with as much hatred and loathing before. James felt himself sink even lower.

This summer was not going well at all.

James let out a deep sigh and attempted to push the events of this morning out of his thoughts. No such luck.

He put the bucket he had grabbed from the hall closet under the sink faucet in the bathroom and began to fill it with cold water until it was full. He grabbed a towel from under the sink and carried it down the hallway, allowing water to spill out over the sides, and walked into his best friend’s room.

He watched the sleeping figure of Sirius. No amount of poking, prodding, or shouting had ever managed to wake him up at Hogwarts. Drastic measures were usually necessary.

“Sorry about this, mate,” he muttered as he removed Sirius’ wand from his reach. He then proceeded to pour the bucket of water over his best friend’s head. Sirius let out a yell; James quickly threw the towel at him as he sat on the desk in the corner of the room, Sirius’ wand safely tucked inside his pocket.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Sirius asked angrily as he wiped off his face with the towel.

In spite of everything that had happened this morning, James felt a smile creep across his face as he caught the ridiculous sight of his soaking wet best friend. Things were – even if only minimally so – improving.

“Morning, Padfoot. Glad to see you’re awake. Fancy a chat?” James asked brightly, pretending to be oblivious to the harsh glare Sirius – who had just realized his wand was missing – was sending his way.

“You’re mental. It’s 8:30 in the morning. Now give me my wand so I can hex you,” Sirius demanded. James merely smirked in response.

“Consider this revenge for last night,” James replied with a slight grimace on his face. The stories shared around the dinner table last night seemed to be one of the highlights of his summer so far. Last night seemed so far away now with everything that had happened since then.

“The naked James story was worth it,” Sirius said.

“Have I mentioned how disturbing it is that you seem to get some sort of bizarre pleasure from hearing stories about me being naked?” James muttered. He felt his foul mood returning.

“Bet you wouldn’t mind if it was Evans who wanted to hear naked James stories. Do you mind if I share the story with her?” Sirius asked lightly.

“If you tell her, you are going to be waking up like this every day for the rest of the summer, rest of our time at Hogwarts, and when you’re old and married with fourteen kids, I am still going to break into your house and wake up you, your wife, and your fourteen children up like this,” James threatened.

“Relax, Prongs. I won’t tell. I wonder if I can convince Devy to tell…” Sirius let the sentence trail off.

“Sirius! Things are bad enough between Evans and I as it is. I don’t need you to make it worse!” James said angrily.

James had been trying to push the events of earlier away. But they came bubbling back up to the surface of his mind. He let out an audible groan. He couldn’t imagine what Evans’s reaction would be the next time he saw her. He probably wouldn’t even see her for days. Weeks, maybe. She tended to do that after James behaved in an extremely moronic way. Such as this morning.

“Something happen between the two of you, mate?” Sirius asked.

James nodded miserably.

“You remember the list that I told you about last night? The one I saw in Evans’ room?” James asked.

“You did something stupid,” Sirius stated.

Normally, James would have been fully prepared to defend himself had Sirius been wrong. Unfortunately, in this case Sirius was right. James still wasn’t sure what had come over him in the kitchen earlier that morning. The whole situation seemed surreal now. He could see the scene play over again in his mind. It felt like that was someone else this morning and he had just been watching the whole thing. Miserably, he began to recount the details of what had happened earlier today to his best friend.

“So, was that part of your plan to make Evans like you? Because I don’t think it went over too well…”

James smiled weakly at his friend’s poor attempt at humor.

“I don’t know,” James replied. “I think we have a pretty solid love-hate thing going on.”

“Yeah, you love her and she hates you.”

“More or less,” he agreed vaguely.

He didn’t actually want to think about how close to the mark Sirius was. Evans disliked him; he had always known that. But did that dislike actually carry into hatred and loathing? He had never thought that she really hated him. Well, if she hadn’t hated him before then she probably did now after what he did. James hated himself for it, so why wouldn’t she?

“I made a right mess of things between Evans and me, didn’t I?”

“Not really, considering things weren’t exactly, er, orderly between the two of you in first place,” Sirius responded with a wide grin.

James quickly sent a glare in his direction and opened his mouth to say something snarky and sarcastic in return. However, there was a knock on the door. Sirius and James both silently stared at the door wondering who it could be. No one currently in the house would have any reason to knock on Sirius’s door.

“Er, were you expecting someone?” James asked his friend who was looking just as confused as James was.

“No, but I am quite loveable. It’s not surprising that someone would want to see me,” Sirius replied arrogantly.

Whoever was outside the door knocked again.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure it’s the Sirius Black Fan Club just dropping by for a visit,” James said sarcastically as they both ignored the knock.

“You’re just jealous because of the lack of a James Potter Fan Club.”

James rolled his eyes. The person outside the door knocked once more.

“Black?” a frustrated voice called through the door.

James sent a perplexed look towards his friend, wondering what on earth his cousin was doing knocking on his best friend’s bedroom door at 8:30 in the morning. Sirius looked equally confused. Audrey knocked on the door once more.

“Black? Are you there? Have you seen James?” Audrey asked through the door, sounding even more annoyed than she had before.

“Notice that the Sirius Black Fan Club refers to you by your last name and me by my first name,” James commented with a cocky smile on his face.

“Notice that the Sirius Black Fan Club is not knocking on James Potter’s door.”

“Notice that the Sirius Black Fan Club is requesting James Potter and not Sirius Black,” James said with a slight emphasis on the word “not."

Sirius seemed momentarily flustered, unable to come up with a response for James. James smirked haughtily.

“At least I’m not referring to myself in the third person,” Sirius remarked airily as he quickly regained his composure, looking completely unfazed by anything his friend had just said.

“I’m not…”

James paused for a second before realizing that Sirius was right- he had been speaking in third person. His face seemed to echo the disconcerted look that had appeared on his best friend’s face a few moments prior.

“Wait, you were referring to yourself in the third person too!” James pointed out.

“No, I was referring to an organization that happens to have my name in it. I couldn’t go around calling the Sirius Black Fan Club the Me Fan Club, could I?” Sirius replied.

James opened his mouth for a second and then closed it. He pondered briefly what Sirius had said. Technically, what he had said was true, but still…

Audrey knocked on the door again.

“Fair point,” James conceded, still ignoring his cousin.

“Are you going to let us in or not?” Audrey’s irritated voice came from the other side of the door as she began to rattle the handle.

The words took James a few seconds to process. Something seemed to click in his brain. And a single word stood out. Us. Audrey wasn’t alone. And while it was possible that Audrey had finally snapped and started referring to herself in the first person plural. Or that she was accompanied by Edie – unlikely since Audrey had an aversion to house elves since she had accidentally killed her own years ago. Or there was even a possibility that Audrey had met a Muggle boy in the nearby village that she wanted to introduce to everyone before running off with him to live a magic-free existence. There was a fourth possibility that seemed much more likely than any of the others. There was a very good chance that Audrey was standing on the other side of the door with Evans.

James barely heard Audrey’s continued ranting as he sprinted to the door, unconscious of his hand messing up his hair even more. He took a deep breath without registering the laughter coming from behind him. The sound of his heart beating seemed to drown everything else out. If it was Evans at the door with Audrey – and not Edie or a Muggle strange or a certifiably insane Audrey – then that meant that Evans was willing to look at him after his horrible treatment of her. And if she was able to look at him, then there was hope.

“You just figure out that Evans is probably out there too?”

James ignored him and opened the door to see his cousin and Evans standing in front of him. He racked his brain for different ways to apologize. Nothing came to mind. He stood there, silent, grinning idiotically at her. She glared harshly in return. James opened his mouth to say something. Anything. The first thing that popped into his mind, however, before James could even say something Audrey shoved the long piece of parchment towards him. James began unrolling it; his eyes widened at its contents. Was Audrey completely crazy?

“In accordance with the Lufkin Act, James Edward Potter and Lily Catherine Evans are hereby entered into a Wizarding Contract. Audrey Lucille Devlin and Sirius Alphard Black serve as witnesses. Should either part break the agreed regulations (see below), the consequences will be in accordance with the standard procedure in these cases,” James read aloud.

“A Wizarding Contract?” Sirius asked. “Is that really necessary?”

“Playing with your dad’s law books again, Devy?” James asked with a smirk.

“I’m not six, James. I don’t play. This is what I’m going to do when I get out of Hogwarts,” she said proudly.

“You’re not going to be a ballerina anymore?” James teased her.

“You can dance?” Sirius asked, looking slightly surprised.

“Not very well. She lacks coordination,” James commented, grimacing. He remembered the several times Audrey had made him “practice” with her. He obtained more injuries from “practicing” with her than he ever had from any Quidditch match.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Audrey asked.

“Certainly,” James replied briefly looking over the list.

The only formal looking part was the beginning which was written in Audrey’s slow, careful handwriting. The rest was written in Evans’ messy script. James could tell she had sped through it in order to finish it so quickly. It was another numbered list of things James would be prohibited from doing this summer if he agreed to this. He had barely gotten to number seven before he had already come to his decision.

“No,” James said softly handing it over to Sirius to look at.

“But you haven’t even finished looking at it. You can’t make your decision yet!” Audrey protested.

Lily glared stonily at him.

“I already did,” he remarked.

“Take another look. You have to agree to it. I’m not going to let you harass Lily all summer. And if this is the only way to keep you from doing something stupid, then this is what we’re going to do!”

“I’m sorry for what happened this morning,” James apologized looking directly at Evans. “But I’m not going to sign this. Not unless there’s something in it for me too.”

“Prongs, you can’t seriously agree to that. That list! It’s crazy! There’s nothing that Evans or Devy could do that could cause you to agree to that list,” Sirius commented as he handed it back to James.

Silently, James carefully flipped through the pages of the contract. Sirius was right. It was crazy. He racked his mind for something that would make it worth it. For something that would cause him to sign his name on that contract. There was nothing. To agree to these conditions would be… There was no way in hell he would ever do something like that. Not for all the galleons in the world. Not for all the money in Gringotts. Not for anything. There was nothing James could think of that would justify signing his life away for the summer.

“Well, James?” Audrey asked.

James was about to tell Audrey just where she could shove their stupid contract when a thought struck him. He grinned and moved over to his desk in the corner of the room. He quickly found a quill and began to add onto to the end of the contract.

“I’ll agree to it,” he said slowly as he carefully wrote out his one condition. “If Evans does this.”

He handed the piece of parchment back to Audrey who looked over the new addendum. She smiled briefly in James’ direction as if she was amused by his condition. But her face quickly regained its solemn composure. James sent a quick wink in her direction causing her to smile again. She childishly stuck her tongue out. But the lighthearted look remained on her face.

“That’s all you want?” Evans asked, speaking for the first time. Her eyes glared suspiciously at him.

“Yes. Do we have an agreement?”

Lily mutely nodded her head.

James looked at her expectantly.

She let out a dramatic sigh, but James could have sworn that he saw a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“We have an agreement, James.”

An awkward silence hung in the air as these words came out of her mouth. James could tell that this was a situation she never thought she’d be in. Granted, he’d never thought he’d be contractually obliged to behave civilly towards her – something he thought he did anyways. But he was handling his contractual obligations better than she seemed to be. She looked as though she had just uttered a horrible curse word. He continued to stare at her, relishing in the way the words made him feel. She looked back, awkwardly while Sirius and Audrey looked on.

Sirius was the one to break the silence.

“Evans, fancy hearing a story about James and a broomstick?”

Skipping From Class - Harry Potter

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 20:42:38 GMT

Title: Skipping From Class
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: You don’t just proclaim your hate for a person for six years and then suddenly go up to that person and say "Hey! You’ve suddenly become quite fancy-able with your wonderful personality and lovely bum, so why don’t we go snog like mad?"
Characters: Lily, James
Rating: PG
Pairings: Lily/James
Word Count: ~5100
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Notes: One shot. Written as a birthday gift for my roomie. Thanks to rainsoulx for introducing me to the word "fanciable" (although she just told me that the motherhood of the word goes to ladybracknell.

This is all James Potter’s fault!

I will stand by that statement. If he didn’t smell so good. And if he didn’t look so bloody fantastic. And if he wasn’t so damn nice! That had really become the kicker in the whole horrible situation. Oh, it was easy enough to hate him when he was a git. And then he got all nice at the beginning of seventh year. Stupid, awful, wonderfully nice James.

If it weren’t for him and his horrid niceness, I wouldn’t be stuck in this… predicament!

You see, James and I happen to sit next to each other in Transfiguration. And after a few weeks of sitting next to him and being in such close proximity with him and his wonderfulness, I grudgingly had to admit that James Potter was actually quite a decent person. And my feelings for James being a decent person escalated to James being a decent person with a lovely arse. And then James was a decent person with a lovely arse and the most charming smile I had ever seen. And then suddenly James was a decent person with a lovely arse, the most charming smile I had ever seen, and stunningly gorgeous eyes. And then James was a decent person with a lovely arse, the most charming smile I had ever seen, stunningly gorgeous eyes, and generally the most perfect being to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. And while it is easy enough to ignore perfect beings that are gits, perfect beings that are nice are much harder to hate.

It was then – after I came to the conclusion that James was a decent person with a lovely arse, the most charming smile I had ever seen, stunningly gorgeous eyes, and generally the most perfect being to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts – that I had to admit that I did actually fancy James. Not that I would ever give him the pleasure of knowing that I fancy him (even if it would cause him to flash his charming smile in my direction). I was perfectly content with taking that secret to my grave.

The secret only lasted a week before my roommates noticed that I was practically skipping back from my Transfiguration classes. Yes, they figured it out. Mary and Ash saw me practically glowing in the hallways and they told Grace who told Amy who told Mandy. And while Mary, Grace, Ash, and Amy had the decency to leave me alone, Mandy did not.

She cornered me in the library.

“So, Lily,” she began casually as I looked up from my book.

“Yes?”

“How’s that Transfiguration class of yours going?” she asked seemingly innocent. I emphasize the seemingly because she knew exactly what she was doing. Damn her. I knew in that moment that she knew.

“Good,” I replied as I brought the book back up to cover the large smile that had just appeared on my face. Whenever anyone brings up Transfiguration, I now get a very large smile on my face.

“Yeah? Lots of homework?” she asked casually.

“A fair amount.”

“Is it very difficult?” she asked.

“Just ask.”

There was no use in dancing around the subject; I knew she wasn’t going to let me out of this one. Better to get it over with. And I wasn’t actually going to let her know that the man I happened to fancy just also happened to be James Potter. I was going to lie through my teeth.

“His name?” she questioned getting right to the point.

“Whose name?” I asked innocently as I set the book down on the table.

“The guy in your Transfiguration class that’s causing you to practically dance back from your classes,” Mandy prodded.

“I haven’t danced!” I protested. Lied, really.

There was that one day about a week ago when James told me that I looked quite pretty and then he flashed me that gorgeous smile of his. I scowled, ignored him, and then let out a large smile as soon as he was gone. But I swear I did not dance back to the common room. There may have been a slight twirl. More of a pivot really. I most definitely did not dance!

In front of anyone at least.

“I saw you!”

I felt my cheeks turn red. Okay, maybe I did dance in front of someone. Unwittingly so though.

“I hadn’t thought anyone was watching,” I mumbled quietly.

Well, wasn’t this just fantastic? Notice the use of sarcasm in the word “fantastic.” I wonder who else saw me dancing! Although, that might explain the weird looks I was getting from that sixth year Hufflepuff at dinner that night.

“Was I any good?” I asked, trying to divert the topic away from me and, as it would inevitably lead to, James.

“Yes, you’re a lovely dancer, Lily. That’s not the point. You haven’t danced back from a class since fourth year when Maurice Shorick told you that he liked your hair. So, I want to know who told you that they liked your hair last week.”

I sighed.

“I took ballet and tap lessons for six years before I came to Hogwarts, but I’m a bit out of practice. Hogwarts didn’t really have the option to continue –”

“Lily! The guy!” Mandy cut me off.

I should have known that wouldn’t have worked. Mandy knows all of my diversionary tactics unfortunately. Side effect of sharing a dorm with a person for almost seven years.

“He’s just a guy in my Transfiguration class,” I said vaguely.

I was quite proud of my answer. Nice and vague.

And, unfortunately, completely unsatisfactory to my friend.

“Does he have a name?” she prodded.

“I believe he does, yes,” I answered much to the annoyance of my friend who was glaring at me by that point.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“I won’t,” I replied. This would be easier than I thought.

See, I’m planning on never telling anyone that I fancy James Potter. Because I happen to know that James Potter fancies me too. And in a perfect world, we would end up riding off on a broomstick in to the sunset and all that… I think I’ve been reading too many of those wizarding romance novels… That’s not the point though. The thing is that if James Potter knew that I also fancied him, well, I would never be able to live it down. You don’t just proclaim your hate for a person for six years and then suddenly go up to that person and say “Hey! You’ve suddenly become quite fancy-able with your wonderful personality and lovely arse, so why don’t we go snog like mad?” To which James would probably say, “Who are you and what have you done with Evans?” or even worse “Sorry, I don’t fancy you anymore.” And that’s why my intense infatuation – I refuse to call it love – for James Potter will remain a secret until the day I die.

“I will figure out exactly who TG is, Lily,” she said.

“TG?” I asked confusedly.

“Transfiguration Guy! That’s what I’m going to call him since you won’t tell me his name! And I’m going to find out who he is!” she responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She would think that.

“You do that,” I responded nonchalantly.

I brought the book back up to cover my face. She pulled it back down and shot a pleading look at me.

“No,” I answered.

I discovered shortly after the first dancing-in-the-corridors incident that sharing information regarding my love life – or lack thereof – with Mandy was not a good idea. She’s the reason Maurice Shorick and I don’t talk to each other anymore. I also suspect that the whole Evans-Shorick Debacle as it is has now commonly become know around the school was a large factor when Maurice came out of the closet last year.

She looked at me angrily and stormed off. I smiled, hoping that her miniscule attention span would cause her to forget her whole quest to discover the identity of TG. She probably would so long as an attractive boy was nearby.

No such luck…

I mentioned being in something of a predicament earlier, didn’t I? The whole Mandy trying to figure out who TG thing is, is not the predicament I am presently in.

It all started when Mandy came back to my table in the library ten minutes later. I could completely handle that. What I could not handle was who she came back with.

Oh, yes, because Mandy with her awful matchmaking skills had unwittingly brought back TG.

James Potter was now sitting across from me. Mandy was smiling insanely. And I think my heart might have just stopped this could not end well.

“I brought help,” she said coaxingly determined to get the identity of TG out of me.

No response. I don’t trust myself to speak at the moment. Or open my mouth. I’d probably just splutter like a complete idiot.

“What’s the problem?” James asked curiously.

Curiously! He was curious! He didn’t know why Mandy dragged him over here. I could still turn the conversation away from me and… him.

“Lily has a mystery lover!” Mandy declared.

My face grew hot. James looked confused and a little… sad? I couldn’t stop the smile that crept on my face at the thought that James may actually be sad because I have a mystery lover. And then my mind processed what Mandy had actually said.

“When did he become a mystery lover? I thought he was just TG?” I cried out.

“Are you sure you want Mandy interfering in your love life? Don’t you remember the whole Evans-Shorick Debacle? You may want to keep your mystery lover a mystery,” James told me with a smirk on his face, all traces of sadness gone from his face.

He had a good point. I probably wouldn’t have a chance in the world with James after Mandy found out and decided to play matchmaker. Not that I planned to pursue a relationship with James. But for his sake…

“That wasn’t my fault!” Mandy protested, looking offended.

“You completely scared him away from girls! Sophie Loots asked him out in fifth year and I heard he started crying,” James pointed out.

“Well, Sophie Loots is a scary girl,” Mandy replied evasively.

“No guy would come near me for months. Ian Corbett still walks in the opposite direction if he sees me coming down a corridor and Matthias Branstone practically had a nervous breakdown when we partnered together in Potions last month,” I added.

Mandy shifted guiltily in her seat.

“Branstone’s always been a bit of a nervous bloke.”

“He normally doesn’t burst into tears when working on a simple Potions assignment!”

“Well… James still asked you out!” she pointed out.

I smiled briefly at the memory. That was true. James did ask me out. In a rather unconventional sort of way, but still… Of course, at the time I still hated him despite his perfect smile and arse.

“Via owl post! I believe he said something along the lines of ‘we can still have a fantastic relationship without ever having to be in the same room!’”

“Offer still stands.”

Crap. There was that charming smile of his again. I felt my face go red against my will.

“She has a TG,” Mandy replied steering the topic away from James and back onto TG, ironically enough. “Which is what we need your help with. We have to figure out who he is.”

“How would I know who Lily fancies? And how come Lily doesn’t know herself?” James asked.

He looked confused again. I think my heart may have skipped a beat. Have I mentioned how fantastic James looks when he’s confused? Because he truly does. Although, he looks absolutely fantastic no matter what emotion crosses his face.

“I do know him! Mandy doesn’t! And apparently that’s not acceptable.”

“Not where best friends are involved.”

“So who is this TG then, Lily?” James asked in a casual tone.

My heart sunk at his casual tone. Why couldn’t he sound – I don’t know – jealous or something?

“Transfiguration Guy,” Mandy replied.

James raised an eyebrow. My face flushed. This is so bad. This is so very, very bad.

Have I mentioned that my Transfiguration class is very, very small? Quite small. As in there are a grand total of five boys in the entire class.

Do you want to know who? Maurice Shorick, Ian Corbett, Matthias Branstone, Elias Mulciber and James Potter. And if you weren’t paying attention earlier, let me just say this: Maurice Shorick is gay, Ian Corbett can barely stand to be in the same room as me, Matthias Branstone cried when we had to work together in Potions, and Elias Mulciber (who I have not mentioned yet) is a pure-blood elitist who hates me in addition to being terrified of me.

“Someone in our Transfiguration class, then?” James asked pleasantly.

“Yes,” I replied tersely.

Bugger. He was going to figure it out. He was going to figure it out and know it was him. And then he would gloat and become all arrogant again. And stop being nice because he would know that he had won me over and he would become utterly repulsive to me again. I closed my eyes waiting for the horribly arrogant reply.

“I can’t think of anyone. Sorry, Mandy,” he apologized.

Her face fell. I stared at James, wondering what he was doing.

“But you must know!” Mandy protested.

James shook his head.

What’s he playing at? He has to know it’s him! It’s not like I harbor feelings for Maurice Shorick who just spoke to me for the first time in three years yesterday. And I don’t think he would have if he had been watching where he was going and hadn’t run into me. And I think if he had looked up and noticed that it was me before he instinctively apologized, he probably wouldn’t have said anything.

“But I can help you win him over!” Mandy declared.

Was she crazy? Did she not remember the whole Evans-Shorick Debacle?

“And isolate me from the rest of the male population of Hogwarts that is still willing to approach me?” I asked questioningly.

“Fine. I can see when I’m not wanted!” she said dramatically. I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t be so ridiculous. You are wanted. Your help isn’t,” I replied as she stood up rather quickly causing her chair to fall backwards. She pretended not to notice. It would have been easier if she hadn’t tripped over the chair on her way out. Madam Pince glared in our direction.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine!” she called back as she left the library.

James’ eyes met mine briefly for a second. His expression was unreadable… and perfect. Yet, very bad! Not in terms of physical features because James is gorgeous. But his gorgeous unreadable expression ‑

was troublesome. He was going to ask. He was going to ask. He was going to ask and I would lose my ability for coherent speech and I would tell him everything from how much I love his lovely arse and his charming smile.

“Thanks.”

He looked at me questioningly.

“For not telling Mandy who it is,” I amended. A look of understanding crossed his face and he nodded his head.

“I’m not totally heartless, Lily. I remember the whole Evans-Shorick Debacle too. Peter still twitches whenever we bring up your name. Plus, I don’t know who it is.”

That would explain why Peter always stutters whenever we talk. And why we don’t talk that often. Not that I talk to any of the Marauders that frequently. Remus, occasionally. I think the whole Debacle affected Black too because I thought he had transferred schools for awhile in fourth year, but then I saw him again at the beginning of fifth year. And we talk sometimes… Well, we fight sometimes. Peter always seemed so nice though. I always just thought that…

“I just thought he was just a naturally nervous bloke,” I mumbled.

James let out a beautiful, perfect laugh in response.

“He is,” James responded. “Don’t take it too personally.”

He flashed a brief, comforting smile in my direction.

“Of course not! I love it that my friend has essentially scared off every Hogwarts male from ever approaching me again.”

“The relationship via owl post offer is still good if all else fails,” he responded.

We shared a brief smile. My heart raced even faster. And we lapsed into a brief silence. I wondered if he was even going to bring up the whole Transfiguration Guy thing.

“I need to finish reading this chapter for Arithmancy,” I said gesturing towards the books.

“Oh, sure. Of course,” he said.

He stood up from the table and turned around to leave.

Yes! This is exactly the way things are supposed to be going! Leave, James, leave! Take your perfect arse and your decent person-ness and just leave the subject alone! And let me admire your Adonis-like beauty from afar! That’s a good plan.

He turned around suddenly. I felt my stomach dropped as he sat back down across from me.

Why couldn’t he stick to my plan?

“Sorry, I was going to try and respect your privacy and all, but I have to ask. Who is it?”

I stared at him.

This was the man that I fancy? Well, I’ll just cross intelligence off the list of the reasons that I like him. I mean, how thick is he? He honestly can’t figure out that it’s him?! As if I’d fall for Maurice Shorick again! Or one of those other boys in my Transfiguration class that are scared to approach me or even look at me!

“You don’t know?” I asked after I finally found my voice.

“Well, there are only five guys in our Transfiguration class. Shorick, Corbett, Branstone, Mulciber and me.”

“That’s all of them.”

I think my voice squeaked when I said that. James offered me another one of those perfect smiles. I hate those perfect smiles. He shouldn’t go around flashing them at poor young impressionable girls such as myself. I wonder how many others he’s got dancing in the corridors because of them. Although, I’ve never seen anyone else dance in the corridors, so presumably I’m the only one that responds that way.

Although, now that I think about it, I did see Sirius Black dancing in the corridors once. But James, Peter, and Remus were watching and laughing on the sidelines and Black was shouting out the different ways he was going to get them back. So the likelihood that he was dancing because James has a gorgeous smile is very small. It was more likely a prank.

I think…

I hope…

I wouldn’t stand a chance against Sirius. Not that I’m actually going to compete for James’ affections. And if I did, – which I won’t – I don’t think that my main competitor would be Sirius Black.

“Lily?”

“Sorry! Drifted off a bit,” I apologized.

James looked a bit annoyed with me after that. Not that I blamed him. I would be annoyed with myself too if I was drifting off during a moment like that one.

“Who is it?”

“Who?” I asked innocently.

“Lily.”

“James.”

Oh, I’m not saying anything, James. Especially, if you can’t even ask me outright. And even if you do ask me outright, I am not saying a thing.

“Who is it?”

See, an outright question. And I’m still not going to answer.

“Who?”

“You bloody well know who!” he said raising his voice.

Probably louder than he should have because at that moment Madam Pince glared angrily in our direction and began to walk angrily over towards us. I grinned widely, realizing what was about to happen. James seemed to realize it to as he frantically turned towards me and began to implore me to tell him the identity of TG.

“Please, Lily! Just tell me who!”

“Sorry, James,” I whispered.

I went back to reading my book. Pretending to read it anyways. I was actually enjoying Madam Pince’s condemnation of James’ behavior. Now I just had to avoid him for… the rest of the year. Maybe I could steal that Invisibility Cloak of James’ that I always see him disappearing under. And remain invisible to him for the rest of the year. And then after we graduated, I would have to avoid places like Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade in case I ever ran into him. I might have to go and live a Muggle-like existence in some foreign country like India or something. India would be good. Big country, highly unlikely I’d ever see James Potter again. It might be worth it.

“Get out!”

I glanced over the top of the book, expecting see a regretful James leaving the library. Only, James wasn’t there anymore. He had already left. And Madam Pince was glaring angrily at me now.

“But I didn’t do anything!”

Glaring.

“I’m reading! Studying! I wasn’t the one who was shouting!”

More glaring.

I wasn’t going to win this argument.

“Okay, okay. I’m leaving,” I said.

I shoved the book into my bag and left the library and the angry glares of Madam Pince. I fully expected James to be waiting for me outside the library. Which he wasn’t, thankfully.

Or not so thankfully. Because a few seconds later, he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. I briefly considered grabbing it and running off with it to live an anonymous, invisible existence under the cloak for the rest of my life. Of course, I would still have to go to class so I could pass my NEWTs. And James would be there in Transfiguration. And we have other classes together too. Transfiguration just happens to be the only one that we sit next to each other in. I can usually ignore his stomach-fluttering presence in other classes. As long as I don’t look in his direction. I sit in the front and I stare directly ahead. It works. Most of the time.

“I was going to sneak back in,” he explained, holding up the Invisibility Cloak.

I nodded my head.

I could still steal it…

Although, James has this weird way of knowing where everyone is at all times. It’s a bit creepy. If we didn’t take Divination together, I would say that he was a Seer or something. But the most accurate prediction James ever had was… well, actually, it would probably be my crush on James. Because that was completely unforeseen to everyone else but him. I wrote it off as bigheadedness before. Although, maybe…

“Lily? I –”

No! He was going to ask! Time for a new topic! A different topic. Erm…

“Are you a Seer?”

First thing that popped into my head.

James thinks I’m crazy now. He’s probably praying it’s another one of those guys in Transfiguration because clearly I’m insane now.

“Er, no, not that I know of. TG, Lily?”

“Can we stop calling him that?” I asked.

Shortening it to a cute little acronym doesn’t make the whole situation any less horrific.

“Sure. I mean, he has a name and all, right? So, we should just call him by his name,” James suggested cleverly.

Put intelligence back on that list of reasons why I like him.

And hate him.

Git.

“On second thought, let’s stick with the name TG.”

Cute little acronyms do make things better!

“Lily! Is it Shorick, Corbett, Branstone, Mulciber, or me?” he asked. He sounded annoyed and… hopeful?

“None of the above?”

That sounded more like a question than anything else.

“So, TG isn’t Transfiguration Guy? Transfiguration Girl then? Well, that opens up a whole new realm of possibilities.”

Blushing again. Why is he being such a git? I think I like him less every second. No, wait, forget what I just said; he smiled again.

“Sophie Loots? No? Professor McGonagall then?”

Wanker.

“Oh, stop it already! You know it’s you!”

There. I said it. It’s out in the open now. I’m fully prepared to begin hating James again.

So long as he never smiles again.

Which he is doing right now. So, I’ll start hating him as soon as he stops.

“I didn’t know, but now I do.”

Doesn’t he ever stop smiling?

“Don’t you ever stop smiling?”

“I’m just a cheerful person,” he remarked.

Still smiling. Not saying anything, mind you. He was just standing there and smiling. And this wasn’t like a brief smile and then he was done. No. For several minutes, he just stood there and he smiled. Stupid, perfect beautiful smile.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“I tell you I fancy you. Something that you’ve been trying to get to admit to since fourth year. And now that I have, you’re just going to stand there and smile?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Ask me out or something, idiot!”

“Well, I was thinking about it, but after that insult…” he trailed off.

I called him an idiot and he was going to let that stop him. I’ve called him way worse in the past and that’s never stopped him from asking me out before! Idiot! Seriously, intelligence is once again off the list of reasons I fancy James Potter.

“Are you serious?” I seethed.

“No, but I could go and get him for you.”

I walked into that one. I glared at him. Not that it stopped him from smiling.

“Ask me out, damn it!”

“You could always ask me out,” he suggested thoughtfully.

“No! You ask me!”

He seemed to be considering it. I just want to know what the bloody hell is wrong with him? Isn’t this the moment he’s been waiting for since we were fourteen? This should be the pinnacle of pathetic existence? Why won’t he ask me out?

“Enough of this! I’m leaving!” I shouted as I turned on my heel and headed back towards the Gryffindor common room.

Stupid, bloody git. What’s wrong with him? Can’t even ask me out properly! I –

I was yanked out of my thoughts as I felt a hand grab me by the arm. I spun around. And suddenly James Potter’s face was very close to mine. And then our lips were touching. And as wonderful of a feeling it is to imagine snogging James Potter, I must say, it is an infinitely better feeling to actually snog James Potter. It’s like having an extremely powerful Cheering Charm cast on you while drinking a large batch of Amortentia (unfortunate fifth year occurrence – don’t ask) and all and all, it’s about the best experience I’ve ever had in my lifetime. I would definitely recommend the experience to everyone else if it didn’t mean that other people would be walking around Hogwarts snogging James.

“You stopped,” I murmured. Whined, sort of. I felt lightheaded from the snog. And from the closeness. His face was still centimeters away from mine.

“Are you going to ask me out now?” he asked me.

I didn’t even register what he said.

Still feeling lightheaded.

Wait…

I think my senses are coming back to me now.

Wait!

Idiot!

“No!” I answered.

“Too bad,” he responded airily.

He was still smiling. Actually, I don’t think he ever stopped. I think he was still smiling when we were snogging.

“Is there any particular reason you won’t ask me out?”

Not that I plan on saying yes anymore. I just want him to ask me out, so I can turn him down. It’d serve him right.

“Other than the fact that it’s amusing to watch your reaction, you mean?”

“Yes! Other than the fact that you’re getting some sort weird pleasure out of this! Why are you doing this? Just ask me out already!”

“I think you look cute when you get angry?” he suggested.

Well, that was unexpected.

“But I’m mad at you! Doesn’t that upset you at all?”

“I’m pretty used to it.”

I wonder if he’ll snog me if I threaten to leave again…

“You are – you are so – you’re very – frustrating!”

He was unfazed by this, of course. I swear as soon the smiling stops…

“You could still ask me out,” he pointed out.

“No! I don’t want to! I don’t think I would even say yes now if you asked me out!” I spat at him.

That didn’t bother him either.

“Well, then, why is it such a big deal whether I ask you out now?”

“I-It’s not! Don’t! See if I care,” I stuttered over the words.

James nodded. His smile faltered a little, but it quickly returned. It seemed less genuine then before. More forced.

“Okay. Have a good night, Lily. I’ll see you in Transfiguration tomorrow.”

He started to walk away.

Well, that’s just bloody fantastic. James is the thickest human being I’ve ever met! He’s so… ugh! I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I…

I should probably go after him.

“I can’t believe you’re going to make me ask you out!” I yelled as I finally caught up with him.

“Are you going to?” he asked, looking amused.

“I’m – what did you say earlier? – ‘considering it.’”

Ha! See how he likes being… considered.

“Any particular reason you won’t ask me out?” he responded.

“Yes,” I responded slowly.

He looked at me questioningly. He wanted an actual reason now, didn’t he?

Crap.

“I…”

He laughed.

“Lily, do you want to go out sometime?”

I stared at him. Why didn’t he just ask a few minutes ago? I should say no. I should say no and put him through the same sort of torture that he put me through. Just say no, Lily, say no.

No, James Potter, you completely perfect prat. I will not go out with you. It’s easy enough. Now I just need to say it aloud.

“Okay.”

No! Bad Lily! Wrong words!

“Saturday?” he asked me.

Now was my chance. I could still say no.

“Okay.”

“Sorry about all that. I would have asked you eventually. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to ask me yourself. See you later.”

And then he kissed me again. Distracting me really. Because by the time I had gained control of my thoughts and senses again, he was gone. Jerk. He did that on purpose. I have no doubts in my mind about that.

My anger fused with happiness as a new thought sunk in.

I have a date with James Potter on Saturday!

And I kissed him!

Twice!

A large smile came across my face as I started to make my way back to the common room.

…

Oh, sod it. I’m dancing back to common room.

Be Back Soon - Harry Potter

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 15:42:31 GMT

Title: Be Back Soon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: The relationship of Remus and Tonks told through a series of post-it notes.
Characters: Remus, Tonks, mentions of various other Order members and Teddy
Rating: G
Pairings: Remus/Tonks
Word Count: 1273
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Notes: One shot. Written for rt_challenge

In Tonks’ opinion, it all started with Emmeline Vance. No one could drone on quite like she could. Tonks was certain of that. Well, maybe, Professor Binns could, but that was about it. She was a nice enough witch and all, but Tonks was fairly sure that if she had to listen to her a second longer she would fall asleep. Actually, she thought she might have drifted off for a few seconds at one point earlier. It would explain the glare Molly had been giving her.

She could feel the familiar haze of sleep threatening to overcome her again. Her eyes slowly began to close again. She dug through her pockets pulling out a spare bit of parchment and an old Muggle pen.

She hastily scribbled a quick “I’m bored” on the parchment and passed it to Remus. She wasn’t quite sure why she passed it to Remus of all people, other than the fact that he was sitting closest to her. He always seemed so… boring. Knowing Remus, he would probably frown and ignore the note.

Instead he did two things that Tonks never would have expected him to do.

First, he smiled.

Second, he took out his own pen and quickly wrote a response back on the note and passed it back to her.

Is that why you fell asleep earlier?

Tonks blushed at the realization that she had actually fallen asleep and that Remus had been paying close enough attention to her to notice that she had fallen asleep.

That started a long tradition of note passing between the two of them during particularly boring Order meetings. Then it became a tradition during somewhat boring order meetings. Then the not-so-boring meetings. Then the interesting ones. And then there wasn’t a single meeting that didn’t pass without one of them writing a note.

Wotcher, she wrote a few months after the first note she’d written.

Shouldn’t you be paying attention?

Tonks glanced over at Remus who was trying his best – yet, still failing – to maintain a serious expression on his face. The corners of his mouth were twitching. She knew he was trying hard not to smile. She jotted down a quick response.

Shouldn’t you?

She hesitated instead of passing it back to Remus. She toyed with the idea of adding more. Something she had been playing around with in her head for weeks. Tentatively, in very small letters – in hopes, that if it was small enough, he might not see it – she added it.

Fancy going out for dinner sometime?

She glanced at the words, instantly wishing she could erase them. Remus was looking at her curiously now. She shifted the parchment away from him, so he couldn’t see it. She considered crossing out the invitation, but it wouldn’t do any good. He would still figure it out. He tended to be perceptive like that. And he would be able to tell that she had been acting funny right now. She closed her eyes and shoved the parchment back into Remus’ hands. She kept them shut tightly, hoping that if she closed them long enough all of this would turn out to be some sort of dream. She felt Remus’ hands brush over hers as he placed the piece of parchment on them. She braced herself for the rejection as she opened her eyes. She felt a mixture of astonishment and joy as she saw his reply.

Okay.

After that the note passing began to increase even more. Whenever Tonks saw Remus, he always seemed to have a note ready for her. He would slip it into her hand as they said goodbye after a date or after a meeting. Tonks started to suspect at one point that he just had a pocket full of pre-written notes to give her. They usually contained some sort of sentiment along the lines of “I love you despite your extreme clumsiness.”

Those slightly insulting confessions of love were always her favorites. She suspected that they were his too since he seemed to be fond of using them frequently whenever he passed her a note. She had come to expect them. It was always a surprise whenever he gave her one that didn’t follow that pattern.

Although, there was a point when it became a surprise if he gave her any note at all. Not that she need a note to know what was coming.

Those were the only words that stood out in the entire note. She felt stunned at them. Hurt. She cried. She tore the note into as many pieces as she could. She refused to listen to him when he tried to talk about it. She left in a frenzy and spent the night looking through the old notes that they had passed.

She cried as she put a note on his refrigerator the next day.

I don’t care about any of those things.

He ignored that one. She thought that he might, but it didn’t soften the blow when he did. She tried to talk to him about it after that. He ignored her too.

Months passed without a single note between the two of them.

And then there was a new one on the door of her flat shortly after Dumbledore’s death.

I’m sorry.

She had suspected that that one would quickly become her favorite. And it was for awhile. She often liked to remove it from the box that she kept the old notes in and look over it again and again. Remus often teased her for it.

“It’s my favorite,” she protested.

His response was always the same.

“Wait until the next one.”

The next ones were always nice. But none ever seemed to evoke the same emotions as the “I’m sorry” one. She never felt the same elation from any of the new notes; she never thought Remus could write one that she would like better.

Well, she had been wrong about things before.

Marry me?

Her first thought was that that note was a joke. He couldn’t be serious.

“You can’t propose to a person through a note taped to the refrigerator, can you?” Tonks asked herself.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of gold a few centimeters below the note. A ring. An engagement ring. Apparently, it was possible to propose to a person via a note on the refrigerator.

That one easily became her favorite one afterwards. Her favorite one that she received. She had a personal favorite when it came to the ones she had written herself.

I’m pregnant.

Of course, she had expected Remus would have a different reaction when he read it. She’d thought he would be, well, happier. Not that he seemed unhappy. He was the same. More pensive, but the same. She wondered if he had even read the note for awhile.

The note-giving gradually subsided like it had before. And she knew what was coming. Again. Just like it had the time before. It hadn’t been a surprise when he left. She’d been expecting it. Not that that made it any better. Or lessened the pain she felt.

He came back sooner that time though. Tonks had been reluctant to let him come back this time. Proof that not everything could be healed with a note. Some things had to be fixed with much groveling, begging, and an eventual giving in on her part.

And the note-passing became more frequent again. More frequent than it ever had been in the past. Their fridge became covered with things like:

Teddy’s crying. He wants you.

I love you despite your extreme clumsiness.

Or…

Hogwarts. Battle. Be back soon.

Unidentified Man Friend - Harry Potter

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 19:09:11 GMT

Title: Unidentified Man Friend
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Everyone in the Order of the Phoenix seems to have taken a sudden interest in Tonks' love life and who her "unidentified man friend" is exactly.
Characters: Remus, Tonks, Bill
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Remus/Tonks
Word Count: 3434
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: One shot. Takes place during Order of the Phoenix

Unidentified Man Friend

The bar was dirty, cheap, and smelled like a whole lot of things that I didn’t even want to try and identify. It was quite disgusting, but it had a close proximity to 12 Grimmauld Place. And it suited our purposes very well. We – Bill and I – had come to an arrangement after the first time Molly roped us into going out together.

Every Friday night we would meet at headquarters and walk to the cheap little bar. I would listen to Bill talk about work and Fleur. And Bill would patiently listen while I would moan about the never-ending pressures of work, the stress from the Order, and my “unidentified man friend” as Bill liked to call him. I refuse to tell him the actual identity because as much as I trust Bill and think he’s an amazing friend, I don’t particularly want him to find out that my “unidentified man friend” is, in fact, Remus Lupin. Mostly because Bill is total crap when it comes to keeping secrets, and I’m honestly amazed that everyone in the Order doesn’t know that I even have an “unidentified man friend.”

So, every Friday night passed in a relatively similar way. Talk, drink, complain. It was a nice comfortable pattern we had fallen into. And it kept Molly from pressing Bill about Fleur.

“I invited a friend to join us later.”

I nodded my head in response. He does that sometimes. Occasionally Fleur will join us or someone else that Bill knows. I don’t mind really. Sometimes I think about inviting someone, casually mentioning to Remus what Bill and I are doing, and see if he’s interested in joining. But the idea always seems to be a bit too much when I’m faced with it. And Sirius lurking around doesn’t help matters either; I think he already suspects something. Oh, I can stand up to Death Eaters and all sorts of evil wizards and witches but I can’t even invite the man I fancy for a drink.

“Are you meeting Fleur later?” I asked, taking a sip of the drink in front of me.

“As always,” he replied with a grin. He meets her every week after we go out for drinks. And, pathetically enough, I go home and watch old Muggle werewolf movies.

“I saw an old friend yesterday,” he commented casually as I rolled my eyes.

He’s a lot like his mother really. He thinks I spend too much time “mooning over the unidentified man friend”. His words, not mine. He doesn’t understand the reason I smile every time he says it. He thinks he’s just being clever. Sweet naïve Bill. He doesn’t realize just how close he’s hit the mark.

“Not interested, Bill.”

He means well, I know. But I’m really not interested. I can only be set up by so many different Weasleys. Molly has currently tried to set me up with four other men, Bill being the most recent. And Ginny seems to have somehow developed the idea that every other male member of the Order and I would make a good couple. The two of them are quite enough at the moment. I really don’t need Bill trying to set me up either.

“Tonks, you can’t spend the rest of your life mooning over this unidentified man friend of yours,” he protested.

“I think I can break him if I keep pressing,” I said lightly.

One of these days, he’ll give in and say yes. You see, I know he fancies me too because Sirius told me he caught Remus staring at my bum a few weeks ago. I blushed, left, and, now, whenever I am around Remus I drop something (it works well considering how clumsy I am – quite believable) and then I bend over right in front of Remus giving him a nice view of it. But stupid gentleman that he is, he always looks in the opposite direction. I’m starting to think that Sirius might have been lying because Remus has not shown an interest in my bum since. Although I think Kingsley is considering asking me out now.

“Seriously, Tonks, things aren’t going anywhere between the two of you.”

“Hey!” I protested.

“Are they?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He knows things haven’t gone anywhere; he’s just rubbing it in my face now. Nothing stays secret in the Order of the Phoenix for long. I mostly blame Bill for that. As I mentioned earlier, he’s generally crap with keeping secrets. He only knows about my unidentified man friend because he weaseled it out of me after several shots of tequila two months ago.

“No,” I admitted meekly.

“I think it might be time for you to move on. And I know the perfect guy for you. Things aren’t going anywhere.”

“Don’t say that!” I interjected as I sent a glare towards him.

“You say it all the time,” he pointed out.

Damn him.

He was right about that. But still…

“It’s okay when I say it. You’re supposed to be my friend. You’re supposed to give me a hug and say he’ll come around whenever I complain about it. You’re not supposed to tell me to move on. You’re supposed to let me wallow in self-pity and buy me comfort food. Then you tell me how good things are between you and Fleur so I can live vicariously through the two of you.”

I think the alcohol might be starting to affect me now. Tonight’s the night where I’ll probably drunkenly confess my feelings towards Remus and the fact that I stole one of his shirts four weeks ago. Every so often, he stays at Grimmauld Place sometimes, and once he may have left a shirt behind. And it smelled so damn good. And somehow, it may have inadvertently ended up in my flat. A complete accident. Almost.

“Right,” Bill said slowly, dragging me out of my thoughts. I don’t think he followed any of what I just said. He was looking rather confused at the moment.

“Things are good with you and Fleur?” I asked as he nodded. Things are always good with Bill and Fleur. I’m a tiny bit jealous. I don’t think of Bill in that way at all, but I still wish that I had someone to go out with afterwards. But, no. At this point, I’m thinking it’s not for me.

I’m fairly convinced that I am going to end up old and alone. One of those crazy old cat ladies, like Arabella Figg. Although, she is Mrs. Figg, so clearly there once was a Mr. Figg. So, no, not even like Mrs. Figg. A crazy, old cat lady. And the worst part is I won’t even be able to be a cat lady because I’m allergic. Old and alone without any cats to keep me company. The future was looking very grim and lonely at the moment. Except for Bill who will take me out for drinks while he shows me pictures of his charming little part-Veela children. And then I’ll go home and cry because I won’t have any pictures of part-werewolf children to show Bill.

“And things with Remus?” Bill asked as he smirked at me.

Idiot. He already asked me that. I opened my mouth ready to respond. Then it hit me.

Remus.

He said Remus.

Remus!

I didn’t say anything. I stared at him. He knew? How did he know? Who told him? No one knows. No one!

“Sorry?” I asked.

“It is Remus, isn’t it? The unidentified man friend?” he asked as he gave me a knowingly smile.

Crap.

“How did you find out?” I asked as I frantically looked around the room to make sure no one else had heard. Not that anyone else in this room would know who Remus is, but it never hurt to make sure.

“I knew it,” he responded with a knowing smile. He was guessing? Guessing! Oh, I am going to kill Bill Weasley!

“Bill! But you were trying to set me up earlier…” I trailed off, feeling slightly confused. As well as shocked and irritated. Bill shrugged nonchalantly.

“You were messing around with me!” I accused him.

“A little bit, maybe. But it is a good thing that it is actually Remus or the next part of the night would be very awkward for you,” he said casually.

“Awkward? Awkward how?” I asked. He definitely had something up his sleeve. But I didn’t need much time to figure out what as I saw a familiar figure walk through the door. I sunk as low as I could into my seat. Oh, either way, this night was going to be awkward.

“Bill, you didn’t!” I hissed at him.

“Come on, Tonks! Where’s your Gryffindor courage?” he asked me.

“I was in Hufflepuff!” I protested quietly as Remus approached our table.

“Bill. Tonks,” he greeted each of us with a nod.

“Hello, Remus,” I said pleasantly as I could while still being able to send an angry glare at Bill.

“Glad you could join us,” Bill said affably as he smirked at me. Prat. Jerk. Wanker. Prick. Stupid, meddling Bill Weasley. What’s he playing at?! He’s worse than Molly, I swear.

“You said you had something to discuss with me, Bill?” Remus asked looking directly at Bill.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! To discuss? Discuss? It’s about me. Bill is going to tell Remus all about mooning over my unidentified man friend. And then Remus would know. And he’ll demand his shirt back. Although that’s probably the least of my worries right now. It does smell nice though.

“Yes, I did, Remus,” he responded with a large grin on his face. “But unfortunately, I forgot that tonight I have somewhere to be right now.”

That was so over-the-top. Remus has to know that Bill’s lying. Bill is quite possibly the worst actor I have ever seen. Absolutely terrible. And what’s worse is that now Remus probably thinks that I had to ask Bill to get Remus to go out with me. He probably thinks I’m terribly pathetic now. Although, I have been sticking my arse in his face and stealing articles of his clothing, so maybe pathetic isn’t that far off the mark.

“Where do you have to be, Bill?” I asked pointedly as I gave him a look that clearly said “please-don’t-do-this-to-me!”

“I made a promise to Fleur. Said I’d help her with her English,” he replied casually. Helping her with her English. Sure. Pathetically bad liar. He stood up from the table and I followed his lead. I quickly leaned into to give him a hug goodbye, something I don’t normally do. But…

“Please, don’t do this, Bill!” I pleaded softly as he returned the hug.

“Just pretend to drop something and stick your arse in his face. He should be used to it by now,” he responded with a slight laugh.

My mouth opened wide in horror as he broke the hug. He just smiled and walked away as I sat back down. I smiled weakly at him as I took another sip of my drink.

“Sorry I interrupted your date with Bill,” he apologized quietly.

My date? With Bill? I spit my drink out from shock and began laughing until I realized the seriousness of the situation. I was, more or less, on a date with Remus. And I had just sprayed him cheap Muggle beer on him. Lovely first date. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t take out one of those Muggle restraining order things on me.

“I’m so sorry, Remus!” I apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said looking confused as he cleaned himself off. “I thought you a Bill were dating.”

“Me and Bill? No! Merlin, no! Never!” I exclaimed. Bill! No, no, no. I love Bill like a brother. A big, annoying, meddling, idiot of a brother.

“So, there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” he asked. There was something strange about the tone of his voice. It sounded almost… hopeful. My heart skipped a beat. He looked almost hopeful. A large grin broke out on my face.

“Oh, definitely. There’s nothing going on between me and Bill,” I said firmly.

“So, your ‘unidentified man friend’ – I believe that’s what everyone’s calling him – isn’t Bill?” he asked sounding curious.

What?

I blinked. I didn’t have any other response for him. All I could do was stare at him and blink.

“Are you alright, Tonks?” he asked sounding concerned while I sat there blinking like a bloody idiot.

“Peachy,” I responded before the words fully sunk in. Then it hit me. “Everyone? Everyone knows?”

“Everyone knows that you have one. No one knows who it is. I believe Mundungus is running a pool as to who it is and how soon we’ll find out,” Remus commented rather casually. I am going to kill Mundungus! And Bill!

“A pool?” I asked. “How did I not know about this?”

“I assumed you did. Everyone seems to be talking about it,” he commented.

Doesn’t anyone in the Order of the Phoenix have their own life? Don’t they have better things to do than speculate as to who I fancy? And I thought my life was pathetic…

“Who’s the leading choice?” I asked curiously. Mostly, I wanted to know if it was Remus or if anybody had picked Remus.

“Bill.”

“What about Fleur?” I questioned him. It happened to be common knowledge in the Order that Bill was dating Fleur. Again, the Bill is crap with keeping secrets thing.

“They all seem to think that he’s cheating on you,” he responded sounding very amused. “I believe Sirius dragged him off earlier this week to curse him and yell at him about cheating on his little cousin.”

“Lovely,” I muttered. “Who else?”

“I believe Kingsley, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Dedalus, and Arthur are popular choices. Although Minerva put six sickles on Severus.”

“McGonagall’s in on this too?” I asked sounding surprised. She always seemed so straight-laced. I can’t believe that she actually bet on who I fancy. I can’t believe she bet on Snape!

Remus merely nodded.

“I’m personally fond of Hestia’s guess. She’s convinced that it’s Dumbledore. She put quite a bit of money on it,” Remus remarked pleasantly as if the whole thing was rather amusing. And admittedly, it might have been amusing if it were happening to someone other than me.

“Oh, I really need to have a talk with… everyone. Nutters. The whole lot of them,” I muttered disbelievingly as I thought about the guesses everyone had made.

First of all, they weren’t anywhere near being correct. And second of all… Sirius? Mad-Eye? Snape? Dumbledore? Arthur? Are all these people completely mental or what? I mean, Sirius is my cousin, Mad-Eye’s more or less insane, Snape is a greasy git, Dumbledore is old enough to be my great-great-grandfather (not that I am opposed to large age gaps in a relationship, obviously, but 100 years seems a bit extreme), and Arthur is married! And third, I’m also a little bit offended because clearly they all think I have no taste in men whatsoever.

“I suppose none of those guesses are correct?” Remus asked. He had that almost hopeful look on his face again.

“None,” I affirmed. “Are there any other guesses? Anyone else?”

He seemed hesitant for a moment before he answered.

“Well, Bill has this idea that it’s… me,” he answered softly, avoiding my eyes. “But I think he was just trying to convince everyone that he wasn’t cheating on Fleur.”

That Gryffindor bravery thing – or was it courage? – that Bill was talking about suddenly reared its head as an idea came to me.

“And who do you think it is?” I asked lacing my voice with the smallest trace of flirtation. Not that it helped much; I think Remus was oblivious to it. The question seemed to have caught him off guard. He looked rather taken aback.

“Well, I… I…”

“Yes?” I prodded. Remus was usually so calm and collected. It was rather amusing watching him stutter incoherently.

“I was going to guess Bill,” he responded sheepishly as the words spilled out of him.

Of course he was.

“Yes, but now that you know you’re wrong?” I prodded.

“Dumbledore?” he guessed tentatively.

What is it that makes people think of me and Dumbledore together? Are they completely mental? I suddenly caught the look on his face. He was smirking at me. He was messing with me too! Men are just plain evil tonight.

“Oh, yes, I’ll be confessing my love for Professor Dumbledore any day now,” I responded sarcastically.

“If you do it tonight, I could still win the pool for when,” he replied with a smile.

“How about I confess my love tonight? Just not to Professor Dumbledore?” I asked before my brain had even registered what my mouth had said. I watched in horror as Remus suddenly seemed to become very attentive to what I was saying. His eyes were watching me curiously. Damn Bill and his Gryffindor courage. I’ve been spending far too much time with him lately. He’s rubbing off on me!

“Do I need to go get someone? Severus, perhaps?” he asked smirking at me. There’s a lot of that going on tonight. The smirking at me thing. I think it’s a new favorite pastime of Order members: smirk at Tonks while trying to figure out who she fancies.

I wonder if he already knows that it’s him.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he did know it was him. He can be quite clever. And he’s clearly not as dense as I am because, unlike me, he was clearly aware of Mundungus running the stupid pool.

“Git,” I muttered as I inhaled deeply. Now or never. Never was looking pretty good. I stood up from the table. I think that the alcohol was going to my head. He was watching me intently as I leaned towards him. Oh, the alcohol had most definitely gone to my head. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what I was about to do. My lips covered his briefly. My heart soared. He wasn’t pulling away. He was kissing me back now.

“So does this mean that I’m the unidentified man friend?” he asked as we slowly pulled apart. Idiot was smirking again. I officially hate it when people smirk at me.

“You knew?” I asked, feeling incredulous. It shouldn’t have been too surprising though. I mean, Bill already knew so why not Remus too?

“I suspected it might be after you confirmed that it definitely wasn’t Bill,” he responded. I smiled before leaning in to kiss him again.

Not that I actually got the chance to kiss him again.

“Oy! See! I told you all it was Remus! And I got the date right! Pay up!”

Bugger. I knew that voice.

“Really, Tonks! It couldn’t have been Dumbledore?” another voice groaned.

I quickly turned my head to see Bill and a group of members from the Order sitting at a table over in the corner. The alcohol must have gone to my head much quicker than I thought because, really, how could I not have noticed them? Bill was triumphantly pointing at Remus and me while successfully drawing the attention of several other patrons in the bar.

I really hate Bill at the moment. I have no doubt that he’s clearly the one behind all of this. Although, I suppose it ended rather well until he interrupted… everything.

“You set me up! That’s why you invited Remus here tonight!” I yelled at Bill who was now accepting a variety of coins from different members of the Order.

“You got your unidentified man friend, didn’t you? You should thank me really,” he replied.

Not bloody likely… Well, it is true that I did get Remus. I still think I should get half of his winnings or something. Or the opportunity to maim him or publicly humiliate him. Preferably both. I was fully prepared to hex him if this wasn’t a Muggle bar. But seeing as how it is, I settled for an extremely harsh glare and a very rude gesture. Not that it seemed to bother him at all.

“Tonks,” Remus began slowly as I shifted my attention towards him. “This may seem like an odd question, but you don’t happen to know what happened to a shirt of mine that I left behind at Grimmauld Place, do you?”

“No,” I answered innocently. Unidentified man friend or not, he was not getting his shirt back.

Morning People - Of Frustration and Fights

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 02:45:06 GMT

Title: Morning People
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: When Lily said that she would rather spend the summer with anyone other than her sister, she did not mean to include James Potter.
Characters: James, Lily, Sirius, some necessary OCs
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: James/Lily
Word Count: 2600
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated.

Start with the ( Prologue ).

Chapter 5: Of Frustration and Fights

“Stupid, bloody promise!” was the thought that entered Lily’s head as she slowly made her way downstairs towards the kitchen (the only place in the entire house that she could find without getting lost). Her promise to Audrey hadn’t seemed so insignificant last night. But now as the prospect of spending time alone with Potter was rapidly approaching, the promise seemed like a strange and cruel form of torture inflicted upon her by her best friend. Starving seemed to become a better and better prospect with each passing second.

A morning person. It seemed so impossible. Lily decided that fate must hate her. Apparently James Potter was a morning person. The words were still unbelievable to her. To Lily, Potter was the epitome of all that was lazy. The fact that he willingly dragged himself out of bed early every morning was absolutely incomprehensible to her. James Potter. A morning person. Those words didn’t seem to belong together at all.

Audrey couldn’t have been serious when she told Lily that Potter was a morning person. It had to be a lie. A misconception. A mistake. A slight bending of the truth with the sole purpose of teasing Lily. No, Audrey wouldn’t lie to Lily again after last night. But still, she could have been mistaken. Audrey could have been unwittingly lying about Potter’s morning person-ness. Audrey and Potter hadn’t spent a great deal of time together since they were ten according to what Audrey told her later last night. It was possible that he could have changed over time. He could have grown to hate the mornings and sleep in every day. Yesterday could have been a completely weird and random occurrence.

There was a chance that Potter might not be a morning person anymore. It was a possibility. Very possible. Very likely, really when she thought about it. Potter probably, most likely, hopefully, wasn’t a morning person anymore. And if he was, well, Lily could only hope that he hadn’t seen the list as well. The morning would be a complete nightmare if he had.

Lily drew in a deep breath and paused momentarily as she arrived outside of the kitchen door. She closed her eyes and blindly searched for the handle on the door before entering the kitchen. She opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down at the kitchen table, thankful that she was the only one in the room.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a voice greeted her brightly. Lily cringed immediately. She recognized that voice. She turned her head to see James Potter appear from the door that she had come through only a few seconds earlier. Fate definitely hated her.

“Where are your parents?” Lily asked choosing not to comment on the “sunshine” part of his greeting and settled for an angry glare instead.

“Sunshine, you offend me!” Potter responded. His voice was lightly laced with something she couldn’t quite identify. “Like my parents sit around all day and do nothing. They’re working.”

Lily nodded, feeling slightly idiotic, but she quickly brushed it off.

“Is Audrey up yet?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be before she finished the question. She could still hope though.

“Oh, sunshine,” he said in a very condescending tone, increasing Lily’s irritation with him, along with his repeated use of his new nickname for her. “Of course she’s not up yet. It’s seven in the morning. She won’t be up for another good four hours. And Sirius should be up in about five or six.”

“Stop calling me sunshine. And what are you doing up so early?” Lily asked bitterly. “I never thought of you as a morning person.”

She was still clinging to the hope that Potter may not actually be a morning person and that today and yesterday might have been a strange coincidence. As well as today. But it seemed less likely with every second. He was far too cheerful in the morning for this to be some bizarre coincidence.

“What? Evans-shine?” Potter said in mock outrage as he tested out a variation of his new nickname for her. “I have many layers…”

There was a brief pause. An odd emotoin crossed Potter's face; he seemed to be debating on whether or not to continue.

“I guess you were just too busy calling me an arrogant, egotistical, self-centered, annoying prick to ever get to know me that well,” he finished.

Potter’s tone had slowly turned from mock outrage to something else. Genuine outrage. Lily inhaled sharply at hearing the familiar words. She felt her face turn white; her jaw dropped in shock. The idiotic nickname didn’t even register with her this time; a single thought crossed her mind. He had most definitely seen the list. He was practically quoting it. Fate didn’t hate Lily; it loathed her. Lily closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath before she regained her composure.

“You’re really not that complex, Potter,” Lily snapped at him as she uttered the first words that popped into her head. “You are an arrogant, egotistical, self-centered, annoying prick! And don’t call me Evans-shine either!”

He looked moderately unfazed by her insults. He continued to sullenly stare at her, leaving the two of them in a bitter silence. He slowly made his way to the table and sat down in the seat across from her.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked casually. His tone betrayed no trace of anger or resentment, but his eyes avoided hers. He was determinedly staring out of the kitchen window, being extremely careful not to even glance in her direction.

“Unfortunately, I’m a morning person too,” she answered looking down at her hands as a different kind of silence descended upon the room. It remained unbroken for several minutes.

“Are you hungry, Evans?” Potter inquired in a fairly pleasant tone, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards her as she glanced up. Their eyes met for a brief second before his eyes flickered back towards the window. Lily felt her heart stop momentarily as she wondered what Potter was up to.

“What?” Lily asked, confused at his apparent change in mood. He should be angrier at her than he was. Her eyes were now fixed solidly upon him, curiously staring at the person across from her. She tried to turn her head away. She knew that she did not want Potter to catch her staring at him. But her eyes remained inquisitively stuck to his face. She couldn’t help it; his behavior had thrown her and all she could think to do at the moment was to stare at him.

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” Potter asked, sounding irritated with her. Lily tore her eyes away from his face. As he got up from his seat and proceeded to walk over towards the other side of the room.

“Sure. Fine. I don’t care,” she answered as indifferently as she could. Her eyes were now glued to the back of his head.

“Great. What?” Potter asked coldly not bothering to look at her.

“Anything’s fine,” she replied with irritation. Potter began to search through the cabinets for different ingredients, slamming the cabinet doors loudly each time. Silence had overcome the kitchen once more; it was only broken by the sounds of Potter repeatedly slamming the doors. He continued to determinedly look away from her. A thick tension slowly built in the room with each second.

“Potter? Can I ask you a question?” Lily asked tentatively. She was trying to break the tension that was hanging in the air. She tried to convey no annoyance or bitterness in her tone. He turned around to face her, seeming a bit confused. She attempted a weak smile.

“Obviously,” he answered with a cold tone, however, a slight grin seemed to be tugging at the corners of his mouth encouraging Lily to go on. She searched her mind for something to ask him. She had merely wanted to break the tension in the room. She hadn’t thought so far ahead as to consider what to ask him. She said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Why is it you like to cook so much? I mean, it’s really not something that I ever pictured you doing,” Lily babbled. She was actually genuinely interested in Potter’s hidden talent. It was something that she had never imagined him doing, although she had never pictured him as a morning person either.

The grin on his face seemed to vanish almost instantaneously. He seemed to be frozen for a few seconds; his body was perfectly still before he let out a deep breath. He ran his fingers through his hair; it looked even messier than usual. A new kind of smile had appeared on his face; it was very familiar to Lily. Too familiar. He had used it on her so many times before. Every time he hit on her. Lily inwardly groaned as she realized what was about to happen. He began, slowly and deliberately, to walk towards Lily.

“And what sort of things have you imagined me doing?” he asked, his voice had switched to the deeper one that he usually reserved for asking her out. Lily felt her cheeks turn red at the implications hidden in Potter’s question. He usually just settled for a simple, “Evans, will you go out with me?” Lily was flustered, unsure how to respond. He was moving faster towards her now. And they were closer than they had been before. Much closer.

“I – I only meant…” Lily stammered before letting the sentence trail off completely. Her mind had seemed to have gone inexplicably blank.

“What terribly naughty things have you imagined dong with me?”

Their faces were centimeters apart now. Potter was looking at her with interest now; he seemed to be surprised that Lily had let him get so close to her. She was surprised at herself too. His questions were really catching her off guard. And his presence. Why is he so close? she wondered. Why had she let him get so close? Normally she would have hexed minutes ago. He hesitantly put his hand up to her face. Lily vaguely wondered why she couldn’t remember any good curses right now. Or where she had put her wand.

“I saw you staring at me, Evans. What sort of things do you want to do to me?” he whispered into her ear.

She sharply inhaled as she realized the full gravity of the situation. James Potter was close to her. Too close. Her hands found her way to his chest as she firmly pushed him away from herself. That was something he clearly had not planned on as he let out a gasp of surprise and toppled backwards, landing on the hard kitchen tile.

“You’re a pig, Potter,” Lily spat at him. “You disgust me. You are foul and horrible and I can’t believe that I’m stuck with you for an entire summer!”

“Well, you’re stuck with me. Start getting used to it,” he responded coldly. Lily felt her hatred for him boil up inside him. He was so horrible! Words began to stream out of her mouth as she towered over him. Every insult she could think of seemed to leave her mouth.

“You’re the most arrogant, big-headed, conceited, bullying, annoying, egotistical, insufferable prat that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!” she yelled venomously.

“You’ve mentioned that before,” he responded coldly. “I think it might have been on that list you made earlier.”

Lily blanched as the words spilled out of Potter’s mouth. She felt slightly shocked at Potter’s confirmation of what she had suspected. He had seen it. Of course he had seen it. No wonder he was treating her like this. He had asked her out before. Many times. But he never went as far as he had just now. He had never done anything like that until now.

“You did see it then,” she stated still feeling stunned at what Potter had just said.

“Bit hard to miss, Evans. It was just lying on the desk. Didn’t seem like you were trying very hard to hide it from me!” he responded angrily. Lily wished to be anywhere but where she was right now. Voldemort’s headquarters. That seemed like a nice alternative at the moment.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” Lily said softly. She looked carefully down at her feet; she couldn’t bring herself to look at the anger and fury in his eyes.

She vaguely wondered why she was feeling so guilty about it. He was every one of those things she had written on the list. He was arrogant. He was egotistical. He was self-centered and annoying. He was all of those things she had just said. He was terrible, terrible person. But she still couldn’t help the feelings of guilt that were rising up inside of her now.

“Great! I feel so much better now knowing that you didn’t want me to see the list of reason as to why I’m such a horrible person,” he responded fiercely. She lifted her head so that their eyes met for a moment. The feelings of guilt dispersed and were placed with anger and loathing.

“You are a horrible person! You’re a bully. And a show-off! You think you’re so much better than everyone else because you score a few goals in Quidditch! You curse people for your own amusement! Because you get some sort of sick pleasure out of seeing other people being humiliated! You’re an immature, arrogant, bullying prat!” she yelled.

Potter seemed to be taken aback by her words. He said nothing for a few seconds as the words seemed to sink in. He leaned casually backwards against the kitchen countertop. The rage in his eyes seemed to dim for a moment before it was replaced by something else altogether. A strange sort of calmness had seemed to wash over his face. Lily wasn’t sure whether she liked it any better.

“And you’re so much better than me, Evans?” he asked calmly. “Are you?”

Lily stared at him for a minute feeling very taken aback at his question. She was unsure of how to respond to it. Potter let out a short derisive laugh at her stunned state before he began to speak again.

“You honestly think that you’re better than me? You? With your list of reasons as to why you a hate person? Oh, yes you’re very mature, Evans! You aren’t petty or anything, are you? A list of reasons about why you hate someone? And you still think that you’re better than me?” he asked her. His voice steadily lost its calm and managed tone. The anger from a few minutes ago was slowly working its way back into his voice.

His words hit Lily unexpectedly. She stared at him as the words slowly sunk in. A hundred thoughts began to race through her mind, but only one seemed to stand out. Was she any better than Potter? The list most definitely had not been her finest moment, but that certainly didn’t put her on Potter’s level, did it? Potter’s words seemed to be ringing incessantly in her ears now. He could hear his voice ask her that question over and over again. She looked away from him in embarrassment and quickly made her way towards the nearest door. She heard a faint “damn it” from the kitchen as she made her way up a nearby set of stairs.

Chapter 6: Of Contracts and Compromises

Three Things - Harry Potter

Wed, 06 Feb 2008 22:07:19 GMT

Title: Three Things
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: "As of this moment there are three that I officially hate: my name, being pregnant, and my stupid, self-deprecating idiot of a husband."
Characters: Remus, Tonks
Rating: PG
Pairings: Remus/Tonks
Word Count: 1900
Spoilers: Some DH spoilers.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: One shot. Takes place during Deathly Hallows.

Three Things

As of this moment there are three that I officially hate: my name, being pregnant, and my stupid, self-deprecating idiot of a husband.

Although if I had to pick between the three, I would say that I mostly hate my bloody husband at the moment. Because if it weren’t for him, my hair would be its usual bubble-gum pink color instead of the boring shade of brown that it currently is. And if it weren’t for him, I would not be sitting here at two in the morning eating a batch of cookie dough by myself. Although I suppose it’s possible that I am sitting here at two in the morning with a large bowl of cookie dough because I’m pregnant. But that’s Remus’s fault too. So, either way, he’s really the one to blame for everything at the moment.

“Stupid, bloody, idiot husband,” I muttered softly to myself as I shoved a large chunk of cookie dough into my mouth, relishing the little comfort that the cookie dough provided. I’m not sure if it was a pregnancy craving or one of those broken heart cravings that caused me to start eating the cookie dough. But I couldn’t sleep and it was already in the fridge. Mum would be mad tomorrow morning when she woke up and saw that it was gone, but I could deal with that then. The pregnancy card seems to be working fairly well for keeping me out of trouble, not that it stopped Remus from leaving. But it has worked well otherwise. So I took another bite.

“Dora, stop eating that.”

I heard the voice from behind me. His voice. His stupid, beautiful, idiotic voice. I instinctively grabbed my wand and turned around to face him. He better hope that he’s a Death Eater because I swear I will do so much worse if he actually is Remus.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I replied, feeling slightly petulant. Of course, he comes back and the first thing he does it start ordering me around. Actually, he doesn’t usually order me around at all; I expect he’s mostly concerned about my health or the baby’s heath. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not angry with him. I used my free hand to put another spoonful of cookie dough in my mouth. I felt a satisfied smile overcome my face as he frowned at my behavior.

“Nymphadora –”

I hate it when he insists on calling me that.

“Don’t call me that, Remus! If you’re even him,” I yelled at him, reminding him that he still hadn’t proven who he was to me yet. He probably is though, only Remus would do something like call me Nymphadora at a time like this.

“You want proof?” he asked. I nodded my head. Stupid question really. I couldn’t hex some poor, unsuspecting Death Eater with the curses I was saving for my husband, could I?

“Fine,” he conceded. “I am Remus John Lupin, your husband, a werewolf. We met at an Order of the Phoenix meeting where I had to stop you from arresting Sirius because no one had told you he was innocent…”

I felt my face grow warm at the reminder of the embarrassing memory. This was most definitely Remus I decided as I raised my want and a cast a series of hexes at my husband who flew backwards several meters, hitting his head against the wall.

“Dora!” he yelled as he began rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not a Death Eater!”

“Oh, I know,” I replied casually. I walked over with the bowl of cookie dough in my hands and sat down beside him as I purposefully ate another spoonful of cookie dough.

“Nymphadora – ”

“Don’t call me that! I’m mad enough at you as it is!”

“I know you’re angry, Dora,” he said, emphasizing my nickname. It was progress anyway. And of course, I’m angry! The stupid prat left me alone, pregnant with his child, and with no promises of even coming back.

“Why would I be angry?” I asked sarcastically. “My husband of just over a month decides to leave me right after I tell him that I am pregnant with his child! With your child, Remus! Why would I be angry about that?!”

“I understand, Dora. I know that I made a mistake,” he told me calmly. I hate that calm voice of his. It makes me feel like I’m one of his students or something. I really hate it when he does that. He was looking at me expectantly now. He clearly expected me to say something in return. I defiantly took another large bite of cookie dough, refusing to say anything.

“Dora, that’s disgusting,” he scolded me as I swallowed the large chunk of cookie dough in my mouth.

“You’ve clearly never had it before,” I said as I tried to force a new spoonful into his mouth. He grimaced and turned his head away from me. I reluctantly gave up and ate it myself.

“Dora, you’ll be sick in the morning after eating all that.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s called morning sickness. Why did you even come back, Remus? Did you forget something?” I asked bitterly, not feeling particularly pleased with my husband at the moment. The bastard can’t just pop in and out of my life like this. He can’t just come back, apologize, and leave again. It doesn’t work like that.

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left –”

“You’re repeating yourself,” I cut him off. I wasn’t really in the mood to hear his usual self-pitying ‘I’m not good enough for people to like me’ speech.

“The point is that I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted. I just wanted what was best for you. And the baby,” he apologized turning his head to face me.

Idiot. Of course he had some stupid bizarre reason like that. Self-pitying prick. Of course he would think that leaving would be best. Of course he would think that I would be better off without a husband instead of having a husband like him. Remus Lupin happens to be one of the most infuriating men I have ever met.

“You’re what’s best for us, Remus,” I said softly.

“What if I pass my condition on to the baby?” he asked.

“Then you’ll have some company at the full moon.”

“What if it’s ashamed of me? Or if it hates me?”

“Well, it’ll be like every other normal child then. Ashamed and embarrassed of us, with the occasional bit of hatred thrown in,” I replied cheekily as he let out a small smile.

“Dora, be serious,” he told me as I wrapped my arms around him, leaning against his shoulder.

“I am being serious. Every child is ashamed of their parents at one point or another,” I comforted him. Or I attempted to. The words had sounded better in my head than when I spoke them aloud.

“So no matter what I do this child is going to be ashamed of me?”

“Yes. Just embrace it already. And he’ll be a little ashamed of me too. But mostly you because I’m going to be the fun-loving parent that our child and all his friends love. And I’ll let him or her do whatever they want. And I’ll have no boundaries or rules at all,” I said lightly watching Remus closely for his reaction.

“Whatever they want?” he repeated incredulously as he raised an eyebrow. He smiled a little. It was getting slightly harder to hate him at the moment.

“Yes. No authority figure or anything like that at all.”

“So if our child is going to have any sort of rules or boundaries in their life, then I’m going to have to be the one to set them?” he asked.

"Well, I can’t do it. I have to be the fun parent. I can’t have our child hating me. And he’s going to hate you anyway, according to what you say.”

“Maybe I should stay then, so the child has someone who won’t let them eat cookie dough at two in the morning.”

I felt my face break into a large smile at his words. It was the first time Remus suggested that he might actually be staying.

“That sounds like a good idea. I mean, you were a Hogwarts professor after all. You can just do what you would have done to your students who snuck out at two in the morning to eat cookie dough.”

“You want me to give our child detention?”

“Whatever you think is best, Professor Lupin. I’m just going to be the fun parent,” I said cheekily waiting for his response. Silence. That couldn’t be a good sign, could it?

“Well,” he began after a few minutes had passed. “It sounds like our child is really going to need someone other than a fun parent around then.”

My heart stopped for a second. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“You’ll stay then?” I asked hopefully.

“If it’s alright with you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to stay,” he said softly. I don’t care what any of those Weasley kids or Hermione or Harry say, there is no way Remus was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they ever had. He could be unbelievably thick at times. Of course I wanted him to stay!

“Well, I suppose I could tolerate you if…” I let the sentence trail off as I dug the spoon back into the large bowl of cookie dough. Remus made a face as I brought the spoon up to his lips.

“This is your condition?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Fine,” he conceded as he took the spoon from me and ate the cookie dough.

“You like it, don’t you?” I prodded unable to read the expression on his face.

“Well, I can’t admit it now or you’d hold it over my head for the rest of our lives.”

Our lives. He just said our lives. That sounded nice. Very, very nice.

“Just for five or six years, Remus. You want more?”

“No. You can have it. You’re the one who is eating for two now,” he said as he placed his arms around me. One last bit of revenge and that’ll be it, I swear.

“Three, actually. We’re having twins,” I lied enjoying this last bit of revenge on my husband. I smiled as the color quickly drained out of his face. Serves him right after all he did to me.

“Twins?” he asked weakly looking very taken aback.

“No. I don’t think so, but I don’t think we’ll be able to tell for awhile anyway,” I added. So technically it wasn’t a lie. There’s a slight possibility that we could be having twins.

“Don’t scare me like that Dora.”

“Welcome home, Remus,” I whispered softly. I laughed softly as I buried my head into his shoulders. I closed my eyes, concentrating on changing my hair back to its usual spiky pink locks. At this particular moment, there were three things in this world that I loved more than anything else: my husband, our child, and cookie dough.

Care Package - Supernatural

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 22:37:07 GMT

Title: Care Package
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, John
Rating: PG
Summary: There were no phone calls. No letters. No emails. Nothing. Sam hadn’t expected this day to be any different. He had hoped. As much as he hated the life he had left, he felt himself missing his family at times.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Words: Almost 1500.
Notes: Pre-Series. One shot.

Sam never received any cards or letters at Stanford. No e-emails. No telephone calls. Nothing. He had never expected any. His father had made it perfectly clear that Sam was no longer to have any contact with the other Winchesters. If you walk out that door, Sammy, you better not come back, were the words that came from his father’s mouth. Sam cringed every time that conversation would play in his mind. Against his will, his father’s words still stung.

Sam vividly remembered that fight. It had been the final in a long string of fights that had started when he was thirteen and told his father he didn’t want to train because he wanted to try out for the soccer team. When has soccer ever saved anyone’s life, Sammy? We’re doing important work here. These are useful skills you're learning. Sam had caved in quickly on that one. He was not used to confrontations with his father then.

That soon changed, and Sam became more and more stubborn with each one, as did his father. Sam usually gave in though, letting his father win after hours of seemingly relentless verbal sparring matches. Sam would concede and agree to hunt and train after the fight had been going on for awhile. Until Stanford. He had put off telling his father and brother about it until a couple of weeks before freshman orientation. He had tried to make the prior weeks as smooth as possible. The calm right before the storm.

He had planned and practiced what he would say to his father. It was the one fight Sam was determined not to cave in under any circumstances. His father’s ultimatum had thrown him that was for sure. But Sam was already resolved at that point. He accepted it as a necessary cost of victory. And so, without saying anything else, Sam quickly retreated to his room, leaving John with a false sense of victory as Sam slammed the door behind him. He threw his few non-lethal possessions into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Sammy? Dean called questioningly as Sam determinedly exited his room and silently proceeded to leave the decrepit motel they were staying in that week. In the middle of the night, Sam walked to the nearest bus station and bought a ticked to California, unsure of what he would do for the next two months until school started. And that was the last time he had seen his brother or his father.

He had become an outcast in his family. If it weren’t for a few select pictures, his friends at Stanford would have never known that he even had a family. There were no phone calls. No letters. No e-mails. Nothing.

Sam hadn’t expected this day to be any different. He had hoped. As much as he hated the life he had left, he felt himself missing his family at times. He missed the gruff voice of his father. He missed the cocky smile of his big brother. He would never admit it to anyone, but there were times where he almost missed hunting.

He sifted through the small stack of letters that had come for him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his father’s messy scrawl or Dean’s illegible handwriting. Despite his expectations, disappointment sunk in as he threw away the few letters he had received - all junk mail. He quickly masked hid his disappointment though as he saw a small blonde walking quickly towards him.

“No birthday cards, huh?” she stated in a very matter-of-fact tone as they started to walk back to his dorm room together.

“No.”

“They’re probably just late. You know how the postal system can be. It always takes weeks for me to get things from my parents,” she comforted.

“I don’t think I have any coming,” he replied honestly, trying not to let her know how disappointed he was. His family had never missed his birthday before. When he was turning seven, he and Dean had been staying with Pastor Jim while their dad was on a particularly dangerous hunt. And his dad drove twelve hours with fractured ribs and a broken arm, so he could be there for Sam's birthday.

“I’m sure you have something coming," she consoled him. So much for hiding disappointment.

“No, Jess, I don’t. My family and I don’t really see eye to eye. On anything.”

“That doesn’t mean they would just forget your birthday.”

“I don’t think they forgot, I just don’t think they’ll send anything,” Sam tried to explain the complicated situation between him and his family, especially his dad. But how was he supposed to explain that his dad threw him out after he told him he had earned a full ride to Stanford. It wasn't the reaction that most parents had.

“Sam.”

“My dad was pretty angry the last time I saw him. I don’t think I’ll be getting anything for my birthday.”

“You’re wrong,” she stated simply.

“No, Jess, you don’t understand,” he tried to reason until he saw that Jess was no longer paying attention to what he was saying. Instead, she now focused all of her attention on pulling out a small white envelope from her purse. She held it up in front of Sam. “It’s a birthday card.”

“I figured,” he responded with a small smile.

“And you thought you wouldn’t get anything.”

“From my family. And I won’t,” he amended as he ripped open the card and quickly scanned over its contents. “Thanks Jess.”

“There’s more, but it’s a surprise,” she said as she pulled him into a hug.

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out later. We’re on for dinner tonight, right? Big birthday celebration? At seven?” she asked.

“Yeah, seven’s fine.”

“Great. I have class now, but I’ll see you later okay? And don’t mope too much. It’s your birthday, be happy.”

“I’ll try,” he said as he gave her a quick kiss goodbye. He arrived at his dorm room, but before he could unlock the door a small, plain, brown package caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up. His eyes caught sight of his name written carefully on the corner of the package. He figured it was the rest of Jessica’s gift. It was surprisingly heavy. He opened the door and tossed the package on his bed. He tore the paper and tape off and opened the box.

One look at its contents, and he knew it wasn’t from Jess. It was a care package. The most twisted and bizarre care package anyone could possibly receive. There was a box of table salt, a small battered leather-bound book with Latin on the cover and exorcisms inside, a vial of holy water, a machete, a shotgun, a picture of the three of them, and a birthday card with two words written inside:

Be careful.

Sam smiled as he pulled out the card and the picture from the box. He then placed the box on the floor, closed it, and slid it under the bed. His cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number, probably a call from a pay phone.

“Nothing’s changed,” the gruff voice said. Sam recognized it instantly. He was surprised at how happy he was to hear it. “I still don’t want you there.”

“I still don’t want to hunt,” Sam replied defiantly as the familiar intensity of their fights began to slowly rise. All warm and fuzzy thoughts had quickly vanished. “This is where I want to be.”

“You’re still fine with turning your back on your family? Abandoning your brother and me? Throwing away everything that we’ve been fighting for?”

“You’re the one who told me to stay gone,” Sam defended angrily, ready to hang up on his father. “I’m just doing what you told me.”

Sam waited for his father to respond. Silence came from the other end. Sam was about to hang up when his father spoke again, softer this time.

“Sam," he said in his most controlled voice. Sam could tell it was taking all of his strength to refrain from yelling.

“What?” he asked in obvious irritation.

“Be careful, okay?”

The connection broke.

Sam sat on the bed for a few minutes feeling slightly stunned. He knew he wasn't going to hear from his father again for a very long time. He got down on his knees and pulled the care package out from under the bed. His father's words rang in his ears. He stared at the contents for a few seconds before reaching for the vial of holy water.

"Couldn't hurt," he muttered quietly to himself.

He quickly shoved it in his pocket, closed the box again, and slid the care package under the bed again.

You Can't Call Him That - Rent

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 22:27:04 GMT

Title: You Can't Call Him That
Fandom: Rent
Summary: Roger babysits Mark's nephew who leaves with an expanded vocabulary.
Characters: Mark, Roger, others
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: None.
Word Count: 1090
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for an old speed_rent challenge. I was just pretty lazy about getting it into my fic journal.

Roger closed his eyes and played a few more chords on the guitar, persistently ignoring the irritating knocking noise as it gradually became louder and louder until there was finally a voice that went with it.

“Mark! Mark! Open this door, Mark Cohen!” an unfamiliar woman’s voice screeched on the other side.

“Mark’s not here!” Roger yelled back feeling extremely annoyed as he put down the guitar, walked over to the door, and flung it open.

“Where is he?” the woman asked. Roger identified her as Mark’s older sister, Cindy. She was standing in the doorway with a small boy who looked to be around three or four. Roger had grown up with both Mark and Cindy, but he had never really been very fond of her. So Roger simply shrugged in response to her question before walking back over to his guitar again.

“He was supposed to babysit Michael,” she complained to Roger as she pointed to her son. Roger simply gave her an uncaring look as he sat down and picked up his guitar. Clearly all he wanted to do was play his guitar. He looked surprised after a few seconds when he looked up to see that she was still here. He gave her a questioning look before turning back to his guitar.

“I can’t take him with me,” she stated giving Roger a poignant look.

“He’s not staying here,” Roger responded without even bothering to look at her.

“Just until Mark gets back,” she pleaded with him.

“Mark’s in Santa Fe, for all I know. Who knows when he’s coming back,” Roger said. It was partially true he didn’t know where Mark was or when he’d be back. But he was fairly sure Mark wasn’t in Santa Fe.

“Come on, Roger, we’re old friends,” she said desperately. Roger wondered what she had planned that was so important that she couldn’t take her son to it.

“I hated you,” Roger replied genially, still not bothering to look up from his guitar.

“I’ll pay you,” she said without even waiting for an answer. “Okay. Good. Here’s my cell phone number if you need me. There are toys in the bag. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

She quickly slammed the door leaving Roger alone with the small boy. He looked up expectantly at Roger.

“Hey,” Roger said. The little boy didn’t say anything. Roger looked back down at his guitar with the pleased feeling that he was about to make a few easy bucks. Roger started to play a few chords that sounded slightly like Musetta’s Waltz when the little boy’s eyes filled with tears and he began to cry.

“Little shit-head,” Roger muttered angrily putting down the guitar. “It’s called a work-in-progress. Everyone’s a fucking critic! Shut up!”

Roger attempted to continue to go on playing, but the little boy only continued to cry louder. Roger got up and walked over to the little boy, not quite sure what to do. He didn’t have any younger brothers or sisters or cousins or anything that could have prepared him for something like this.

“Sorry,” Roger apologized lamely in hopes the little boy would accept the apology and stop, but he continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“I want my mommy!” the little boy screamed at the top of his lungs through the tears.

“Me too,” Roger responded feeling somewhat desperate as his head started to ache. The kid could cry.

“She said Uncle Mark was going to watch me! Not you! I don’t like you!” he cried.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Roger responded.

“Roger! What did you do?” a voice came from the doorway. An extremely flustered Mark stood in the doorway. He looked like he only just remembered that he was supposed to be watching his nephew.

“I was just playing my guitar and the little shit-head started crying,” Roger defended himself. “It’s not my fault he has bad taste in music.”

“You called him a shit-head? You can’t call my nephew a shit-head!” Mark protested as he picked up the little boy and started to rock him gently to calm him. The boy’s crying slowly began to subside as he clung tightly to his uncle.

“Why not?” Roger asked clearly not seeing any problem with calling young children shit-head.

“Because…” Mark started to say. He stopped, looking unsure what to say. “You can’t say that kind of stuff in front of little kids.”

“I don’t like him, Uncle Mark,” the little boy spit out venomously. “He’s mean and he plays bad, scary music and he says bad words!”

“Little shit-head!” Roger yelled at the little boy.

“Roger! Stop saying that! What if he picks up on it and starts to say it too?” Mark asked, looking concerned about his nephew as he glared at his roommate. Roger merely shrugged not understanding why it would be such a bad thing if small children ran around screaming shit-head. It would be an improvement over the crying which had finally stopped.

Mark picked up the bag of toys and pulled out a few, so that his nephew would have something to do. Roger glared at the little boy, as he carefully picked up his guitar again. He played a few notes to see if he would start crying again, but he just kept playing with his toys. Roger gave a small relieved smile.

“Shit-head!” the little boy suddenly screamed as Roger let out a laugh. He didn’t mind that his guitar playing was interrupted this time.

“Michael!” Mark yelled at his nephew as he frowned at Roger. “Don’t say that word.”

“He did,” Michael whined pointing at Roger who was immensely enjoying the new conversation.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Mark reminded his nephew, hoping that he could convince him not to say shit-head anymore.

“I don’t,” Michael said as he stuck his tongue out at Roger. The small child had a proud smile on his face as he used the new words that he had learned. “He’s a fucking shit-head!”

Morning People - Of Dinner Anecdotes/Of List Making

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 22:01:28 GMT

Title: Morning People
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: When Lily said that she would rather spend the summer with anyone other than her sister, she did not mean to include James Potter
Characters: James, Lily, Sirius, some necessary OCs
Rating: PG
Pairings: Lily/James
Word Count: 2400/2600
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Starts with the ( Prologue ). And I was a bit lazy about posting the new chapters, so these are Chapter 3: Of Dinner Anecdotes & Chapter 4: Of List Making

Chapter 3: Of Dinner Anecdotes

The Potters, Sirius, and Audrey all sat around the dining room table. They had arrived too late the previous night to have a proper return celebration, and therefore were pulling out all of the stops tonight. An overwhelming scent of turkey, potatoes, and other delicious foods came from the adjoining room, causing many of the room’s occupants – namely Sirius – to become quite petulant from the lack of food. He complained loudly about having to wait for her only to have his best friend actively defend her at every single perceived attack. Both received glares from Anne. John and Audrey were making patient small talk, neither really hearing what the other had to say. All of their energies were both focused on decidedly ignoring the ongoing fight between James and Sirius.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. I don’t think she’s coming down. Let’s just start,” Sirius complained again as his stomach growled loudly.

“She probably just wasn’t ready when Anne told her we would be having dinner soon,” John responded in a very patient voice, breaking his resolve to ignore the complaints coming from Sirius.

“How could she not be ready?” Sirius asked. “It’s been an hour practically!”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” James replied glancing at the clock on the wall. “You just said it.”

“Exactly. I don’t think she’s coming,” Sirius responded. “Especially after what happened earlier today.”

James ignored the pointed look from his best friend and sulkily looked away.

“What happened? Why wouldn’t she come?” Anne asked curiously.

“Because James was a complete arse towards her today,” Sirius answered lightly before continuing his ongoing demand that they no longer wait for Lily and just eat.

“Language,” Anne lightly scolded.

“Sorry. Can we please eat?”

“When isn’t James an arse?” Audrey asked. Her expression was innocent, but her tone and eyes had hidden something darker in them.

“Audrey!” Anne reprimanded again.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” James defended while Audrey mumbled a small apology towards Anne.

James couldn’t have helped any of the events that had occurred earlier that morning. It wasn’t his fault that she had never seen one before. And he had only tried to help. His intentions were good, no matter how poorly they had been carried out.

“What happened?” his father. His eyes glowed with a familiar anticipation. It was similar to the look that James would get right before he was going to pull a really good prank.

“Nothing. Nothing happened,” James replied discontentedly. This was not a good first day of the holidays. He sent Sirius a glare, warning him not to say anything more. It wasn’t an incident that he exactly wanted broadcasted to his family. His best friend obviously didn’t share these sentiments. Sirius promptly decided to ignore James’s warning glances and proceeded on with the conversation.

“It’s really a story best told over dinner,” Sirius responded as his eyes darted hopefully towards the door dividing the two rooms. “Not really anything that I think could be told with an empty stomach.”

“It’s really a story best not told at all,” James said pointedly at Sirius who once again ignored him.

“You really don’t think she’s coming down?” John asked no one in particular as Sirius shook his head fervently. John laughed at his actions and called for the house-elf in the next room to bring in their food. Sirius let out a quick cry of joy as he caught sight of the food being brought into the room. James silently prayed that the food would be enough to distract him from telling his family anything else.

“The story, then?” John asked as he piled a large spoonful of potatoes onto his plate.

“Sirius,” James hissed warningly. “Don’t say anything.”

“James might be right. I don’t know if Lily would want everyone to know this story,” Audrey said. James decided that he had never liked his cousin as much as he liked her right at that moment.

“Yes, think of Evans,” James pleaded softly.

“It’s not a good story, Dad. Really, it’s not,” James tried to convince his father. “Trust me.”

“Well, if you say so, James. I guess we’ll need another story to tell then,” his father mused thoughtfully. James didn’t like the look on his face. He knew that he was not going to win anything tonight.

“Dad, please.”

“I have one!” his father declared happily. His tone was light and easy, but his face was almost malicious.

“Please, don’t be the time in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Please don’t be the time in Quality Quidditch Supplies,” James prayed softly. He did not like the look on his father's face. He had no choice. Either way, he was going to be mortified later on.

“One time when James was two, I took him to Diagon Alley. And he really wanted to go into Quality Quidditch Supplies,” his father began to tell the story.

“Right, so, Evans. Sirius, tell the story. Please?” James begged. Any story was better than this one.

“No thanks. Maybe later.”

“You are the worst best friend in the whole world,” James hissed angrily.

“Shh. You’re making miss the story, Prongs.”

“And, we were potty training James at the time. And I had told him that when he was a big boy he wouldn’t need to wear a diaper anymore,” James' father continued with his story. James’ face was turning a deeper shade of scarlet every passing second. “But, James didn’t quite understand what I had said. And anyway, back to Quality Quidditch Supplies, James said he wanted a broom and I told him that he could have one when he was a big boy.”

“Dad. Please. Please, Dad."

“James, it's not that bad. It probably embarrassed me more at the time than it ever has you. Right, so then, he declared that he was a big boy and that he could ride on a broom and that since he was a big boy he didn’t need clothes either. So, he rips off his clothes, grabs the nearest broom, and starts flying around the store on the broom.”

James sank low into his seat, his face bright red, as everyone around the table started laughing. This night could hardly get any worse. At least Evans wasn’t there to hear any of it, he thought hopefully. Although, Audrey was probably going to tell her everything later.

“You bought me the broom. It got me what I wanted,” James said with as arrogant of a voice that he could muster.

“No, they made me buy the broom. Some sort of company policy. Your naked child sits on it, you buy it. Can't say that I blame them. Do you think anyone else would have wanted that broom after your naked butt was on it?”

“Wait! It’s not the broom that I used to fly around on when we were little, is it?” Audrey asked, horror etched into her face.

James shrugged noncommittally, enjoying her terror. If he had to be miserable that night, it was only fair that someone else should be too.

“No, no. He broke it three days later. So, Sirius, your story?”

“Right, well, first of all, Evan is a muggle-born,” Sirius began to explain while ignoring his best friend and his best friend’s cousin. Anne inquisitively looked at Sirius to see where this conversation might be headed. James sullenly crossed his arms and stared determinedly at his plate, mentally listing the pros and cons of murdering his best friend. Which is why James was shocked to hear his father’s angry voice break across his thoughts. James sharply raised his head as he stared at his father in alarm.

“I raised you better than that, James,” his father said coldly. His voice was replete with controlled fury.

“I would never say anything like that!” he defended himself as soon as he realized what his father was accusing him of. He swiftly rose from the table in anger. “That’s not what happened at all!”

“Then what did happen, James?” his father asked, following James’ suit and also rising from the table, towering over his son. The fury in his voice was becoming less and less controlled with each passing second.

“John! James! Calm down. Let’s just hear what happened before jumping to any conclusions,” Anne suggested reasonably while tugging on John’s arm and lowering him back into his seat before turning her eyes to James. “You too. Now what happened, James?”

“She had never… And I didn’t know… It was just so funny,” James said as his disjointed thoughts left his mouth as words.

“Insightful,” his father deadpanned.

“She walked into Edie’s quarters,” Sirius supplied helpfully, feeling a bit bitter that he was no longer the center of attention.

“We were in the kitchen and I told her it was quickest to get back to her room if she went through Edie’s room. And well, apparently she’d never seen a house-elf before.”

A look of comprehension suddenly dawned on his father’s face. All traces of anger quickly vanished from his face and he began to laugh.

“But hasn’t she seen them before? She’s been to Audrey’s house, hasn’t she? Don’t you have one, Audrey? I thought you did,” Anne asked.

“Audrey killed him,” James supplied quickly in a would-be helpful tone, but it was clear that all he wanted was to steer the conversation away from the incident that had occurred earlier that day.

“I did not kill him!” Audrey defended, quickly rising from the table.

“So you didn’t become convinced that house elves were greatly mistreated and needed to be brought to justice?” James asked.

“Well, he was…”

“And you didn’t decide to fix the situation by giving him clothes?” James asked, silently giving thanks that the conversation no longer revolved around him and Evans.

“He was unhappy. Everyone was always telling him what to do. And making him clean things. And cook things,” Audrey retorted petulantly before her tone changed to one full of regret. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know he was going to die from the shock.”

“Audrey the house-elf killer,” Sirius said in an almost sing-song-like voice. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“It does not!”

“You’re right. Devy the house-elf killer. Much better.”

“Shut up, Black!” Audrey yelled.

“Audrey,” Anne said in a warning tone.

“Sorry,” she murmured shrinking back into her seat.

“She screamed,” Sirius stated.

“Yes, state the obvious. Because no one at this table knows that I screamed,” Audrey sneered before faltering under her aunt’s stare and muttering another apology.

“No, no. Devy didn’t scream. Well, I mean, she did scream, but I meant Lily. When Lily saw the house-elf she screamed,” Sirius amended his previous statement. “And then James…”

“That’s right, she did scream,” James said quickly, not wanting to have this story told by Sirius. “And I thought she was hurt or something so I rushed in there to help her out,” he said with proud tone of finality while puffing out his chest. It was clear he had wanted the story to end there with him playing the part of the hero. “She just a little embarrassed, I think.”

“You left out the part where you crashed into her,” Audrey added mischievously, a small smirk playing at her lips. Sirius practically beamed at her.

“It’s pick on James and relive his most embarrassing moments night, isn’t it?” he asked, glaring at his best friend, his cousin and his father.

“And I thought that was tomorrow night,” Sirius said as he adopted an overblown look of confusion on his face and dramatically scratched his head.

“My calendar says it’s on Saturday,” Audrey supplied.

“Oh, that might be right. I’ll have to check again,” Sirius responded playfully.

“Since when are you two best friends?” James asked bitterly, deciding that he’d never hated either of them more than he did at that moment. Nor was he entirely comfortable with the idea of them being friends, or even friendly.

“So, you crashed into Lily?” Anne prodded gently.

“No.”

“You didn’t? But they said you did,” John said gesturing towards Audrey and Sirius. Confusion filled his voice as he listened intently to the story.

“Yes, well, I didn’t crash into her. Exactly,” James said carefully.

“What did you do exactly?” his father asked amusedly.

“I flung the door open. And she was standing sort of close to it, and it knocked her down.”

“Was she alright?” Anne asked concernedly.

“She was fine until James decided to help her up, tripped and fell on top of her,” Sirius answered as a deep shade of scarlet crept across James’ face while John started laughing again.

“It was a very compromising position,” Sirius added wickedly as James’ face turned an ever deeper crimson.

“But I didn’t do it on purpose!” James defended while looking meaningfully at John and Anne as Audrey let out a snort. “She said I did?”

Audrey gave a noncommittal shrug and turned her attention to the remaining food on her plate. James could feel his temper slowly rising.

“Well, did she?” James asked angrily.

“Did you?” Audrey asked coldly, lifting her eyes from her plate and looking directly at him.

“He did,” Sirius answered for him before he had the chance to deny it.

“Hey!” James yelled.

“What? You didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t,” James answered.

“Sorry, mate. It’s just you never would’ve guessed the way you went on about it the rest of the day. For the rest of the day, it was all ‘Evans’ hair is so soft. Evans’ skin is so smooth. Evans smells so nice.’”

James cringed and sunk lower into his seat at Sirius’s imitation of him. It wasn’t that it was a particularly bad imitation that bothered him. It was the fact that it was spot on and had just been displayed for his entire family to see.

Chapter 4: Of List Making

Being a Muggle-born witch, there were many things that Lily Evans was considered much more knowledgeable about than her pure-blood counterparts. Cars, televisions, electricity, etc. These were all things that Lily could be considered to be quite knowledgeable about. A house-elf did not happen to be one of those things. In fact, in all of the wizarding books that Lily had ever read, she had never read one that described a house-elf in excessive detail. Therefore, the first time she saw one, she did what any normal Muggle-born witch would do and screamed.

It was just her bad luck that James Potter happened to fall on top of her immediately afterwards. It was her bad luck that her best friend happened to be cousins with the boy she hated more than anyone else. It was her bad luck that she was spending the summer with James Potter and Sirius Black. And, it was her bad luck that the events from this morning had been playing repeatedly in her head all day.

It was all of this bad luck that prompted Lily to lock herself inside of her room for the rest of the day, despite the hungry growls that were being emitted from her stomach. It could growl all it wanted; Lily refused to go down there. She was not going to willingly put herself in the presence of Potter, no matter how hungry she was or how loudly her stomach growled. Lily let out a small groan at the her unfortunate situation. She quickly looked around the room to find something to distract herself.

She grabbed a nearby piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink in order to distract herself from the gnawing hunger in her stomach. She swiftly sat down at the desk next to the door and proceeded to doodle aimlessly for a few minutes while trying to think of something to write. She didn’t even want to think of starting her homework yet. Nor had she ever been particularly good at writing stories or poems. All she had ever done was make the occasional list in her childhood (Ten Reasons Why Petunia is a Really Mean Sister, Sixteen Reasons I Should Be Allowed to Take Ballet Lessons, etc). She stopped doodling suddenly as an idea sprung into her head and proceeded to begin writing at the top of the piece of parchment:

Ten Reasons Why James Potter is an Arrogant, Egotistical, Self-Centered, Annoying Prick: An Elaboration.

Not the best use of her time, she reluctantly admitted to herself. But at least it would help her vent her anger towards him, so that she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the summer locked up in her room in order to avoid Potter. Writing had been a type of catharsis for her, even if all she did was make lists. It had always helped her when she was younger and was upset or angry about something. And it would help her deal with the rest of the summer and James Potter.

1. James Potter is an spoiled, horrible, bullying prat, plus all things listed in the title.

Lily looked proudly at the piece of parchment in front of her. She was starting to feel better about this entire mess already.

However, before Lily could move onto the second point on her list, she was interrupted by a soft knock on her door. She remained sitting in her chair, silent. She wasn’t going to answer until she knew for certain who was at the door. Lily definitely wasn’t in a mood to deal with Potter or Black at the moment.

“Lily? Are you in there?” Audrey’s voice came softly from the other side of the door as she knocked on the door once more. Lily let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Audrey’s voice.

“One second,” Lily replied before getting up to unlock the door and let her friend inside. Her face dropped momentarily in horror as she saw Potter standing behind her best friend, both of them holding a plate of food in their hands.

“Aunt Anne thought that you might like something to eat since you weren’t at dinner. I don’t think she knew what you liked or what you were in the mood for so she had us bring up a little bit of everything,” Audrey told Lily while sending her best friend an apologetic look. Audrey clearly hadn’t intended for Potter to come along with her.

“Thanks,” Lily responded as she took the tray from Audrey and set it down on the desk next to the list that she had been working on a few seconds before. Lily felt her face suddenly heat up as she caught sight of the list in plain sight for Potter to see. Her stomach dropped. Why didn’t she think to hide it before opening the door? Hopefully he hadn’t seen it yet. She many have openly despised him, but she still didn’t want him to see the list of reasons as to why she openly despised him. She turned around quickly, positioning herself so she was standing in front of the list, hopefully blocking the contents of it. She stared at Potter for a few seconds, trying to read his expression, but his face seemed to have clouded over. That couldn’t be a good sign, could it?

“Evans, I –,” Potter began before Lily cut him off.

“Thanks,” Lily said coolly as she grabbed the tray from his hands, hoping he would take the hint and leave. His eyes flitted over to the desk; his expression was still unreadable. Had he seen it or had he noticed that Lily was trying to hide something?

“But I just wanted to…” Potter faltered under Lily’s glare before continuing in a tone just as icy as Lily’s had been. “Fine, I hope you have a nice night, Evans.”

He quickly left the room, leaving a stunned Lily and Audrey behind. They both seemed very taken aback at his treatment of Lily. James Potter had never said a harsh word to Lily Evans in the entire six years that he had known her.

“That was weird. Normally, he hits on you,” Audrey commented, shutting the door behind her cousin and sitting on the floor across from Lily.

“I’d rather he treat me like that than his constant flirting and asking me out. Or his constant attempts at it anyway,” Lily responded. She was still feeling slightly shaken at Potter’s bizarre treatment of her.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that he was with me. My aunt suggested that I bring you up some food and I couldn’t carry up everything myself. So, she made James help. And I know you don’t want to see him right now. Or ever, but…” she trailed off, giving Lily another apologetic look. Lily took a bite of the food in front of her.

“Relax, it’s fine. I’m starving and you brought food, so all is forgiven,” Lily said after she swallowed before continuing thoughtfully, “I guess it explains it though.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you call him James. I always wondered since you claimed to hate him so much, but you two were always on a first name basis. It always seemed a little weird to me, but I guess the fact that you two are cousins explains it,” Lily answered leaving an awkward silence in the air. They hadn’t talked about that yet. It was still a bit of an uncomfortable for the two of them.

“That’s something else I’m really sorry about,” Audrey said, preparing to apologize to Lily once more. “It’s not like I was proud of it, and I wasn’t sure how to just casually drop it into the conversations. What was I supposed to say, ‘Great job on your Charms essay, oh, and by the way, you know that person you absolutely loathe? James Potter? Well, we’re cousins and… Do you hate me for keeping it from you?”

“Of course not!” Lily answered earnestly. “I mean, I was a bit stunned at first, but I understand why you did it. And I can understand why you wouldn’t tell anyone. I mean I really think that you should have told me, but it’s okay that you didn’t. I suppose I wouldn’t want people to know either if I was in your position. ”

“If you were in my position, it would be really sick that he keeps asking you out. And you're not people; you're my best friend. I should have told you,” Audrey apologized again.

“Stop worrying about it. It's fine. I understand why you hid it from me. I really do,” Lily comforted her friend as a large smile spread across Audrey's face.

“Thanks, Lily. And speaking of hiding things from people, what was on the desk that you were so anxious to hide from James, anyway? Love letters? To James?” Audrey asked teasingly, looking curiously over at the piece of parchment lying on the desk. Lily let out a sound of disgust at Audrey’s suggestion.

“Ugh, you sound like him,” Lily remarked disdainfully. “Was it that obvious? That I was trying to hide something?”

“You mean it really is one?” Audrey asked, sounding incredulous as she rushed over to the desk and quickly read through the supposed letter to James. “Oh, Lily, if this is a love letter, you need some serious tips on how to write one.”

“It's not a love letter. And I’ll have you know that I could write a perfectly adequate love letter if I wanted to. It's a list of reasons as to why I hate your cousin,” Lily replied sounding slightly offended at Audrey’s suggestion of her inability to write a love letter.

“Yeah, I thought it might be that. Of all the ways to spend the night, you decide to make a list dedicated to how much you hate James. Very productive. Not at all immature,” Audrey playfully taunted her best friend.

“Writing is my Tylenol and my Potter-ache is gone,” Lily replied cheekily as Audrey started to laugh.

“Potter-ache? Is that like heartache? Is your heart just aching for James?” Audrey asked jokingly causing her friend to blush slightly at her words.

“It’s more like a headache,” she answered as she rubbed her forehead.

“Although, if you two did get together, we would be like family,” Audrey said thoughtfully. Lily wasn’t sure that she liked the look on her friend’s face; it was too close to Potter’s when he was plotting some huge prank.

“That’s not going to happen. Sorry. Now please stop planning whatever you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything,” Audrey defended herself. She waited a few seconds before adding, “What if he deflated his head?”

“No! Not even then. I thought you hated him. Why do you want me to go out with him all of the sudden? And I don’t think my boyfriend would approve,” Lily remarked, confused by her friend’s sudden enthusiasm for James Potter.

“I do hate him, but I like you. And if you and James were together, we would be like sisters! Sort of,” Audrey said. She sounded very excited about the prospect of being sisters with Lily.

“I don’t think you can become someone’s sister by marrying their cousin. I think we’d be more like cousin-in-laws or something. And don’t you have any other cousins that you could set me up with?” Lily asked.

“Well, I have my cousin, Dominic, on the other side of my family. He’s four. And a real prat,” Audrey said slowly.

“Sounds a lot like Potter. Acts like a four-year-old. And he’s a prat too,” Lily commented.

“But no one would accuse you of robbing the cradle with James,” Audrey pointed out causing Lily to laugh.

“That true, but if it’s all the same to you, I think that I’ll just stick with what I have.”

“Then we’re not sisters,” Audrey replied, her face falling.

“Well, I think of you like a sister anyway. Only I get along with you better than I do with Petunia. So, I don’t think marrying Potter is really necessary. Sorry.”

“Okay, I guess you don’t have to marry James,” Audrey conceded.

“Thank you for giving me permission to marry whoever I want. I appreciate that,” Lily thanked her friend.

“You should. And he’d better be good, whoever he is. With cute brothers.”

“You’re restricting my choices again,” Lily lightly reprimanded.

“Sorry. Marry whoever you want. Lily, do you think that I could contribute to the list?” Audrey asked as an idea suddenly struck her and began to quickly write as soon as Lily handed the piece of parchment over to her.

2. Lily and I (Audrey) consider ourselves like sisters. And James is my cousin (not by choice). Therefore every time he hits on her, it’s almost incestuous. Almost. But close enough.

Lily laughed as she saw the second reason on the list before she felt her heart sink as a thought suddenly re-entered her head: had Potter seen it?

“Do you think that he saw the list?” Lily asked nervously.

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re both morning people. You’re bound to run into each other sometime tomorrow morning, especially if you’re planning on eat breakfast,” Audrey commented. Lily’s eyes widened in horror with each syllable her friend said. Of course Potter was a morning person too. That would explain why he was up so early this morning. It explained why she would always see him wandering the Hogwarts corridors early in the morning. It explained why this summer was probably going to be the worst summer of her entire life.

“He’s a morning person?” Lily asked feeling slightly horrified at this news.

“Always has been. A bit annoying actually,” Audrey said making a face. But after seeing the terrified look on her best friend’s face, she quickly added, “Oh, Lily, don’t worry about it. You probably won’t even see him that much in the mornings. Just at breakfast probably. And Anne and John might be there too. So don’t even think about not eating to avoid him. You aren’t going to starve yourself this summer just so you don’t have to face James.”

“You wouldn’t bring me food?” Lily asked, pretending to be hurt.

“No I wouldn't, Lily. Only when James does something really stupid and inconsiderate towards you, like this morning. Really, really stupid and inconsiderate. You aren’t going to starve yourself just so you can avoid James. Promise me you won’t,” Audrey said seriously. She knew the extreme lengths that Lily would undergo to in order to avoid James Potter.

“I promise I am not going to starve myself just so I can avoid Potter,” Lily responded before muttering under her breath, “The stupid, bloody morning person.”

Of course Potter was a morning person too. That was just more of Lily’s bad luck, wasn’t it?

( Chapter 5: Of Frustration and Fights )

Morning People - Of Breakfast Incidents - Harry Potter

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 20:38:09 GMT

Chapter 2: Of Breakfast Incidents

To say that the Potter home was large, was an understatement. It was enormous. A mansion, complete with four stories that were filled with long, winding hallway, seemingly endless corridors of identical doors, multiple libraries that towered with books on every subject, and numerous portraits of past occupants stretching back to what seemed like Roman Empire. Needless to say, it was very easy to lose your way, as Lily quickly discovered.

Lily had left her room in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. After the discovery of four different bedrooms, three very large bathrooms, two flights of stairs, and an extremely embarrassing incident in Sirius’s bedroom, Lily managed to wander into the kitchen where the aroma of a hot breakfast was calling to her.

“Oh, Lily, dear, you’re up early,” Anne’s warm voice called from across the kitchen. She was sitting at a small kitchen table in the corner across from a dark, mop of unruly black hair. Lily’s hopes that it was James’s father – who looked eerily identical, other than a few minor traits here and there, to James – who was sitting across from Anne were soon dashed. His head turned, with a sinking feeling, she recognized the much younger face of James Potter.

“A bit early for you, isn’t it? I never had you pegged as a morning person, Evans,” he commented. His voice was a bizarre twist of anxiety and fear etched into his normal arrogant tone. His head dropped in a single graceful movement and he began to play with the food in front of him.

“James, don’t be rude! Her name is Lily. And stop playing with your food!” his mother chastised. James quickly shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. His mother cringed in embarrassment and disgust as James chewed his food, struggling to keep his mouth closed.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Potter. I don’t mind. Really, I don’t,” Lily quickly assured her. She stopped herself before she could add that she preferred it that way. She knew the only reason James called her Evans was because she had expressly forbid him to call her anything else (including Lily Flower, Tiger Lily, Love, etc.) during their fourth year. And for once, James had honored her request.

“Please, call me Anne,” his mother responded while flashing Lily a warm and comforting smile.

“Right, Anne. Well, I think I’ll just go back to my room now,” Lily lied, knowing she had no clue how to get back to her room. She left Anne with a look of confusion and James with a look of mild fury at her sudden decision to depart.

“Tact’s not really your strong suit, is it?” James drawled from the table. Lily felt her face turn a furious red as James gave her his trademark arrogant smirk.

“James! Lily, don’t mind him. He’s just –.”

Sleep deprivation, a lack of food, and a previously established dislike of a particular member of the opposite sex got the better of her. Fury built up inside her and was now ready to release itself. And James Potter was the target of her bottled fury.

“You really think remarks like that are going to make me like you? You are arrogant and conceited. Why wouldn’t I want to get away from you?” Lily yelled as she took an unconscious step towards him, her heart racing madly.

James looked taken aback for a second at Lily's outburst. They had argued before, but it usually took more to get Lily riled up than one rude remark. Not this time.

“You like that idiotic prat boyfriend of yours!” James retorted, rising from the table after he had recovered from his initial shock.

“And?” Another step closer. Was it getting hotter in here, Lily wondered vaguely.

“Clearly you have no standards. I mean you can’t have any if you’re willing to date that insult to the human race. If you had any standards…” James responded, his rage now rivaling Lily’s as they began moving closer and closer together. Lily decided that it was definitely getting hotter in the room.

“Oh, I have standards! Why do you think I refuse all of your offers?” Lily screamed ready for whatever rude thing James was about to say next. Their faces were practically touching now. Electricity raced through her skin. She had never been quite so close to James before. It was a furiously exciting experience.

“That’s enough!” Anne yelled as she stepped between the two of them, separating them. The electricity within her died as she took a step away from James. She could feel her heart rate slowing down to its normal even pattern. Her breathing steadied itself.

“I want both of you to calm down right now. Now, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on between the two of you, but whatever it is, you need to put it aside for the summer. Or it is going to be a very long two months. For all of us,” Anne told them.

“Sorry, Mrs. Potter,” Lily apologized. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Yeah, sorry,” James added halfheartedly as he sat down and began to play with his food again. Lily stopped herself from rolling her eyes in disgust. Anne was right. She was going to have to learn to tolerate Potter if they were going to be stuck together for the next couple of months.

“I think I’ll just go back to bed for awhile,” Lily said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lily. You’re already up. You might as well stay and eat. You have to try some of this delicious breakfast that James made,” Anne commented.

James dropped his fork. All traces of anger vanished, only to be replaced by a distinct look of embarrassment. He choked on the food in his mouth. His face had turned an ashen color. He dropped to the floor to conduct an extensive search for his fork.

“You cooked?” Lily asked in surprise. She had a long list of the things she thought James Potter was. A good cook was not one of them.

“I can’t find my fork,” James mumbled from under the table, his eyes were glued to the floor.

“It’s right there,” Lily pointed out the fork which was only inches away from his hands, feeling annoyed with him. “You cooked?”

“Thanks,” he said as he picked up the fork and prepared to take another bite of food, still ignoring Lily's question.

“Use a different fork, James,” Anne commanded as James petulantly rose from the table to begin a search for a new fork.

“You cooked. Do you cook a lot?” Lily asked.

“He loves to cook,” Anne supplied. Lily saw his face turn a pale shade of pink before he quickly turned his back to her. He seemed suddenly preoccupied with finding a new fork. He began to noisily go through each drawer in the kitchen.

“I don’t cook. I don’t even know where the forks are,” he muttered as the silverware in the drawer clanged loudly against each other.

“That drawer, James,” Anne said pointing to the next one over. “And get one for Lily too. And a plate.”

“Evans,” he said handing her a fork and a plate. He then made his way back to the table. Lily stood motionless with the fork and plate in her hands. “If you’re going to eat, you may want to sit down. It’s easier if the food’s in front of you.”

The embarrassment was gone for the moment and replaced by his characteristic arrogance. A slightly malicious smile formed upon her lips as her next words formed in her head.

“I still can’t believe you cook.”

“I don’t cook!” James defended, his face flushing again. Lily laughed lightly at his reaction which only seemed to add to his embarrassment. “Because cooking is not a masculine or manly thing to do. So why would I cook?” James said, seeming very flustered. Lily had never seen James quite so unglued as he seemed to be in his own house. She looked on at James’s reaction in amusement.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking to cook, James,” his mother said with boredom. It was clearly a conversation they'd had before. “Sit down, Lily. Eat. James is a very good cook, I promise.”

Lily walked over to the table and positioned herself as far away from James as possible. Despite her hunger, she piled minimal amounts of food on her plate. Despite Anne’s promise, she was still wary of anything James Potter may have made. She suspiciously bit into the food.

“Like I said?” Anne asked. Lily nodded her head. James Potter could cook. Really, really well. Not that she would ever let him know that she thought the food was anything better than barely edible.

“Good, well I have to leave now. So, I’ll see you two tonight at dinner,” she said before quickly disapparating away before Lily had a chance to protest. She was now alone with James Potter. Lily glanced up at all potential exits. She could not handle being alone with him for extended periods of time.

“It’s good?” he asked, looking strangely hopeful.

“I’m not very hungry,” Lily lied, setting her fork down. She wasn't going to admit that it was some of the best food she'd ever tasted to James.

“Oh, okay,” James said, seeming disappointed. Lily almost felt bad to cause it.

“I think I’ll just go back to my room now,” she said, leaving the table and preparing to begin another endless quest for her room. Anything, as long as it meant less time with Potter.

“Hey, Evans?”

“Yeah?” she asked turning around, curious as to what he was about to say.

“Never mind.”

“Okay,” she said as she pushed the door she came in through open and looked hopelessly around the room before her. This was going to be a very long summer.

“Evans?” she heard James call again.

“What?” she asked, feeling a little irritated this time.

“It’s quicker if you go through the other door in the kitchen and go straight up the stairs through there.”

“Thanks,” she responded as she quickly brushed passed him and went through the kitchen again. She opened the door opposite of the one she had just come through and let out a shrill scream as she saw what was before her.

( Chapter 3: Of Dinner Anecdotes )

Morning People - Of Not So Secret Cousins - Harry Potter

Fri, 02 Mar 2007 19:32:26 GMT

Title: Morning People
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: When Lily said that she would rather spend the summer with anyone other than her sister, she did not mean to include James Potter
Characters: James, Lily, Sirius, some necessary OCs
Rating: G
Pairings: Lily/James
Word Count: 1405
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Read the ( Prologue ) here or at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3365299/1/

Chapter 1: Of Not-So-Secret Cousins

Lily slowly waded her way through the sea of people in Platform 9 ¾. She finally made her way back to Audrey. Lily had just finished a short goodbye with her boyfriend. Audrey was nervously twirling a loose strand of hair while the other hand fidgeted nervously with sleeve of her sweater. Her breath was ragged. Her eyes were fixed on her feet and her face seemed a few shades paler than normal.

“Are you okay?” Lily asked, noting the appearance of her friend.

Audrey nodded her head and looked up to face Lily. Their eyes made contact and Audrey quickly dropped her head like a guilty child who had just broken her mother’s favorite vase. She slowly raised her head and glanced around the platform, apparently looking for someone.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, Lily,” Audrey said in an almost pleading voice.

Her eyes had suddenly become focused on something behind Lily. But Lily hadn’t noticed; she felt a sinking feeling within her. She briefly wondered if Audrey even wanted her to come. She couldn’t stop the flicker of hurt flashed across her face.

“If you don’t want me to come, you could just say so. I mean it’s really okay. I can stay with Petunia” Lily muttered.

She felt embarrassed and ashamed that she had even forced her company on Audrey. She had just been so preoccupied with finding someone other than Petunia to stay with that she had neglected to think how much she might be imposing on her friend. Her face had turned a slight pink. Audrey’s eyes widened slightly at Lily’s words.

“No, it’s not that. I want you to come. I do! It’s just… Well, it’s my family… They’re…”

Lily let out a small laugh in relief. A large smile spread across her face as her green eyes glowed with excitement. Audrey had wanted her to come! She was just worried about her family. A little ridiculous really… Nothing could be worse than Petunia.

“Your family can’t be that bad,” Lily commented lightly. She couldn’t keep the happiness out of her voice.

“My aunt and uncle are nice,” her friend murmured softly.

“Trust me. No one could even hope to be as bad as Petunia and her stupid husband, Vernon, are,” Lily spat venomously.

She had become completely unaware of what her friend was saying. The subject of her sister and her new brother-in-law always escalated into a vehement rant about the magic-hating couple.

“It’s my cousin. He’s…”

“Petunia is an absolute… I don’t even know how to describe it. She’s horrible! An absolute terror which is really a very pleasant way of describing her! Oh, she’s absolutely terrible! She thinks she’s so… Ugh! She’s a complete nightmare! Plus, she always blamed me for everything when we were little. And now! She still does it. She’s… There’s no way your family can be as bad as my sister and her husband. I mean, it’s not like you’re related to Black or anyone.”

“A prick. He’s a complete and total prick. He’s just so arrogant and self-centered and moronic and a whole bunch of other bad things that I can’t think of right now. He’s just such a prick! That’s what he is,” Audrey finished describing her cousin with a tone similar to what Lily had been using.

“Oh, sweet little Devy,” a new voice interjected in Lily and Audrey’s pseudo-conversation.

Lily turned around to see who had interrupted the conversation, even though she had recognized the voice the second she heard it. She inwardly cringed when she saw Sirius Black and James Potter standing in front of her. She mentally reminded herself that this would be the last time she would have to see him until the summer was over. She felt a wave of calmness wash over her at the thought.

“What do you want, Potter?” Lily asked ignoring Black and not bothering to keep the strong annoyance out of her voice.

“James and I just came over to tell you how much we were looking forward to spending the summer with you two lovely ladies,” Black said smoothly, causing Lily to go into shock at the information she had just heard.

“Lily’s lovely. Audrey’s average, if anything. I don’t really look at her way,” Potter corrected his friend, causing Audrey to hit him in the shoulder. Potter let out a slight noise of surprise and began to rub the spot that she had just hit.

“Thanks, Audrey. I’m really feeling the love here,” Potter muttered as he sent a glare at her.

“Black is your cousin?” Lily asked, too surprised to convey anything other than shock in her voice.

“Of course not! James is,” she said in a hurry.

The words were spoken quite rapidly. They almost blurred together. Almost. Unfortunately, Lily had still heard every terrible word that her friend had just said.

“Did you just say that Potter is your cousin?” Lily asked, the shock still pervading her voice.

“I tried to tell you, Lily. I really did.”

“You’ve been friends for six years and you never told Lily that we were related?” Potter asked. The arrogant smile that normally dominated his features was replaced by a confused frown.

“She said you were friends when you were younger,” Lily muttered quietly as the shock of the revelation finally sunk in, only to be replaced by hurt and confusion. Lily wondered why her friend would keep such a big secret from her. She glanced at Audrey who was embarrassedly looking at the ground and avoiding looking at anyone.

“Why else would Lily have agreed to come? Did you think she suddenly found you charming and adorable?” Black asked his best friend. His voice shook Lily out of her daze.

“Everyone else does,” Potter said with confidence. His arrogant smile had returned and was directed at Lily who rolled her eyes in disgust and irritation.

“I’m sorry, Lily. I should have told you sooner. But he’s… Well, he’s James! And it’s not like I’m proud to be related to him or anything,” Audrey said, finally braving a glance at Lily who offered her a brief, comforting smile.

“Such harsh words. We’re family, Devy. We’re supposed to love each other and care about each other and all that other stuff,” Potter commented as he led the group towards an older couple, presumably his parents.

“Maybe I would if you’d stop calling me that stupid nickname,” Audrey murmured under her breath. Potter simpfly smiled at her words.

“You’re the one who couldn’t pronounce her own last name,” Potter responded.

“I was four!”

“Whatever you say, Audrey,” Potter responded, emphasizing her name. “Are you full of cousinly feelings of happiness and love for me now?”

“What? Because you called me by my first name? No,” she answered.

Potter’s smile grew larger despite her words, and he quickened his pace. He gave each of his parents a hug, as did Black and Audrey. Potter stepped back and swiftly grabbed Lily’s wrist and pulled her forward before she had time to object.

“What are you –?” Lily started to ask furiously before Potter quickly cut her off.

“Not now, Lily-love,” he responded swiftly and quietly. She barely had time to protest the endearment before he began addressing his parents.

“Mother, Father,” he addressed them with an air of extreme formality. His voice suddenly deepened several tones. Lily twisted her wrist in his hand, but his grip remained firm on her wrist. “May I present to you, beloved parents, the amazing, beautiful, spectacular, wonderful, incredible, splendid –”

“James, get on with it,” his father interrupted Potter’s speech with a small grin on his face.

“Right, so the amazing, beautiful, et cetera, et cetera, magnificent, caring –”

“Not about you,” Black commented with amusement while his friend sent him a harsh glare.

“As I was saying, the caring –”

“James,” his mother cut him off with a mildly annoyed tone. He grinned sheepishly at his mother for a second before finishing his speech.

“Mother, Father. May I present my lovely girlfriend, Lily Evans?” he said quickly. Lily had finally broken free of Potter’s grasp. She quickly stepped away from him, her mouth open and ready to protest. However, his father spoke before she ever got the chance to say anything.

“The same Lily Evans that said she’s rather go out with the giant squid than you?” his father asked.

Lily laughed at the expression that appeared on Potter’s face. Lily decided that she liked this man, even if he did spawn Potter. Light patches of pink appeared in Potter’s cheek as he angrily turned towards his best friend.

“Sirius!” he hissed angrily as his friend doubled over in laughter. Potter instinctively reached for his wand to hex his friend, forgetting that they were now surrounded by Muggles.

“James!” his mother chastised.

He muttered a quick apology and hastily shoved the wand back into his pocket. The woman suddenly glanced at Lily.

“I’m Anne. And this is my husband, John,” she introduced as she pulled Lily into a quick, warm hug.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lily responded truthfully, wondering how such nice people could produce something like James Potter. His parents were nice enough. Audrey would be there. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad summer after all. Lily followed as the Potters started to exit the station. She was surprised to see that Black was following them.

“Black’s coming too?” she whispered quietly to Audrey, who gave her a slight nod.

“Great,” Lily said sarcastically. Okay, so Potter and Black would both be there. She’s heard of the Potter family. Their wealth was well-known in the wizarding world. They probably had a large house she could easily avoid them in a big house. She usually managed to do it at Hogwarts. Lily took a deep breath and headed off to what would prove to be one of the most eventful summers that she would ever have.

( Chapter 2: Of Breakfast Incidents )

Without Her - Rent

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 21:41:40 GMT

Title: Without Her
Fandom: Rent
Summary: For five months he hadn’t left the loft despite Mark’s constant nagging for him to leave for a little while at least. He left. He started walking and this is where he ended up. In a cemetery, staring at a grave. Probably not what Mark had in mind.
Characters: Mark, Roger
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: April/Roger
Word Count: 1014
Spoilers: April died. Oops. Sorry.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for and won third place at speed_rent

Roger stared blankly at the grave in front of him. He replaced the dying flowers with new ones. He wondered for a moment who had put the others there. Family? Friends? It didn’t matter now. The cool winter air stung his face as he shuddered. The loft was cold, but it everything seemed magnified outside. The sun burned brighter. The wind was colder. The pain was fresher. She had been gone for five whole months. And for five months he hadn’t left the loft despite Mark’s constant nagging for him to leave for a little while at least. He left. He started walking and this is where he ended up. In a cemetery, staring at a grave.

“Probably not what Mark had in mind,” he mumbled quietly to no one in particular as he lifted his gaze away from the grave and allowing a small smile for himself, but then quickly suppressing it. It didn’t feel right to be happy when she wasn’t there.

“I’ve been thinking, April,” he said as he brought his eyes back to the name etched into the stone in front of him. “For five months, I’ve been wondering why. Why you did it. Why it had to happen to us. Could I have stopped you – saved you – if I had gotten there sooner? All of these questions just keep running through my mind and for five months I’ve been trying to find answers.”

Roger stopped, unable to talk to the cold stone that represented her anymore. It wasn’t her. She always seemed to have life in her. The stone wasn’t her. She wasn’t buried beneath it. She was just gone.

“If there was one thing I could change,” he said looking up into the sky now, almost like a prayer. “Just one thing. I wish I’d never started using. She’d still be alive, then, wouldn’t she? If I hadn’t decided to try it that one day. If I hadn’t convinced her to try it, everything would be fine. She’d be fine.”

Roger closed his eyes, wishing that somehow the clock would turn back. That it would be five months, no two years earlier. That she’d be back. Alive. They’d both be clean it would be better. Everything would be better.

He slowly opened his eyes. He was still in the cemetery. Roger sharply turned to face the grave he had been staring at earlier. It was still there. Her name was still on there. Nothing had changed. Tears stung the corner of his eyes as he lifted his hand to dry them. He silently turned and left the cemetery without stopping until he reached the loft. He fell onto the couch and in a moment sleep had overtaken him causing him to temporarily forget all the pain as her face appeared before him again for the first time in five months.

“April,” he whispered mumbled sleepily, trying not to wake up. Because he knew once he woke up, she would be gone again.

“Have another dream about her?” a voice asked shaking him from his dream. Roger opened his eyes and saw Mark standing over him.

“Who?” Roger asked confused. He’d never dreamt of April until now.

“April,” Mark answered, appearing greatly concerned as he watched his friend. “I know you’ve been having dreams about her since she died. There’s nothing you could have done if you were there.”

“I could have stopped her. I could have made sure she didn’t do that to herself,” Roger protested. He had run all of the different possible outcomes of what could have happened in his mind. If things had gone a little different, he was sure he could have saved her before she did anything.

“Stopped her? From what?” Mark asked sounding slightly confused. “From going down that alley that night. You were always telling her not to take shortcuts through alleys. That was all you could do. She made a mistake and didn't listen.”

"What happened?" Roger asked, barely wanting to know. Almost nothing could be as bad as finding her in the bathtub. Covered in all of that blood. What could be worse than that. Almost nothing.

"You know what happened Roger," Mark replied, but withered under the glare that Roger sent him. "She was shot."

“Shot?” Roger repeated slowly. The words weighed down on his tongue. Shot? “She found out we had AIDS. She committed suicide.”

“What are you talking about Roger?” Mark asked looking genuinely confused. “April didn’t commit suicide. And neither of you had AIDS. Are you feeling okay?”

“The drugs,” Roger said slowly as his mind flickered back to what had happened in the cemetery yesterday. “We never did any drugs did we? April and I?”

“Come on, Roger, we both know neither of you would ever touch that kind of stuff. Especially, not now. Not after what happened to April,” Mark said, appearing to become more worried about his friend as each second passed.

"What?" Roger asked sharply. How had drugs still ruined everything? It should "You said we would never touch that stuff."

"The guy who shot her was high. Hallucinating. Thought she was attacking him," Mark told him heavily, becoming more and more concerned for his friend as each second passed.

“She was shot?” he asked, struggling to get the words out.

“Yeah, five months ago,” Mark responded. “Did you hit your head or something?”

“Yeah, that must’ve been it,” Roger lied too focused on what Mark had just told him to disagree. Five months ago. That was the same time she had died before. Before. Before, she had committed suicide. She left a note and slit her wrists in the bathroom. The memory of yesterday in the cemetery floated back across his brain again. It had changed. Somehow, miraculously, it had all changed. No AIDS. No drugs. And yet everything was still the same. She was still dead. April was dead. And she had died in a way that was almost worst. And he was still there without her.

Morning People - Prologue - Harry Potter

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 21:33:35 GMT

Prologue

Lily Evans’ eyes widened in horror as she read through the letter in her hands.

This was bad.

Bad, bad, bad!

They could not do this to her. They could not do this to her! Her parents absolutely could not to do this to her! It had to be a mistake. They knew how she and her sister got along. They wouldn’t actually try to…

It was a mistake. She was dreaming. This could not be happening to her! And it was just all too horrible to be a dream.

She quickly read through the letter again. The contents of the letter had not changed. It most certainly was not a dream. It was really happening. She angrily slammed the letter down on the table in the Great Hall causing several other people to look. She felt her face redden as she read her mother’s are careful and deliberate handwriting once more.

Dear Lily,

I know you were looking forward to coming home this summer, but there has been a slight change of plans. My Aunt Nettie had an unfortunate accident falling down the stairs. Don’t worry, it’s not too serious. However, your father and I are going to her home in Italy to help her recover. Sadly, this will most likely take up a large portion of your holiday. I have already talked to Petunia – and she agreed – and you will be staying with her and Vernon for the summer. I understand that you and your sister do not have the best relationship, but I really think that you should view this as an opportunity to become closer. Take care and write back soon

Love,

Mum

Lily closed her eyes and anxiously rubbed the back of her neck, unaware of the figure approaching her.

“What’s wrong?”

Lily opened her eyes to see the figure who had just sat down across from her.

“Hello, Audrey,” she greeted one of her best friends.

“You always rub your neck when something’s wrong,” her friend persisted. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Lily let out a brief smile before she answered, “My parents are going to Italy.”

“Oh,” Audrey said. The confusion was evident in her voice. “I would be really upset too.”

“That’s not why I’m upset,” Lily said quickly, sensing her friend’s misunderstanding. “It’s not where they’re going; it’s where they’re making me go.”

“Oh… Oh! Petunia?” Audrey asked as revelation suddenly dawned on her. Lily nodded her head miserably in confirmation. Lily had told her friend a lot of stories about her older sister. None of them good.

“Oh, Lily. I’m so sorry,” her friend sympathized.

Lily didn’t say anything. She still felt slightly numb from the news. A whole summer with Petunia! Lily looked at her friend with a look of complete anguish on her face. Anything would be better than spending the summer with her sister. Lily despairingly lowered her head onto the table.

“Couldn’t you stay with someone else? Maybe Nathaniel?” Audrey suggested, referring to Lily’s boyfriend.

Lily shook her head. Her parents would never allow her to stay with her boyfriend for the entire summer. And Lily wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to spend the entire summer with him. She cared about him and all, but he tended to drive her a bit mad at times. She wasn’t sure she could handle the whole summer with him.

“My parents would never let me spend the summer with him anyway. Remember the Christmas incident?” Lily asked as her friend nodded her head.

Lily had wanted to spend part of the Christmas holiday with him. Her parents did not. She ended up sneaking out to see him which led to a large row with her dad. Lily was grounded for the rest of the holiday and not permitted to even write to Nathaniel for the remainder of the holidays. Lily loved her parents, but they did have a slight tendency to be overprotective.

“What about Olivia?” Audrey suggested. “Or Mary? I'm sure they'd both love to have you.”

“Olivia has eleven brothers and sisters; there’s barely enough room for her in house. And Mary is going to Spain with her family.”

Lily shot her friend a pleading look. Audrey squirmed slightly in her seat, looking intensely uncomfortable.

“Well,” Audrey said, looking very uncomfortable. She scanned the Gryffindor table looking for other people that would be willing to let Lily could stay with them. “Maybe, if you’re really, really, desperate…”

“I’ve stayed at your house before,” Lily cut her off quickly, hoping her friend was suggesting that she stay with Audrey. Her heart leaped at the idea of spending the summer with her best friend instead of her awful sister.

“I know, but I’m staying with my aunt and uncle this summer…”

“Oh,” Lily sighed disappointedly. “So, you’re aunt and uncle wouldn’t want me to come. It’s okay. I understand.”

“No, they wouldn’t mind,” Audrey automatically responded. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, looking terrified of what she had just said. L

“So, they wouldn’t mind if I stayed too?” Lily pressed; her voice was filled with hope. "Please? I'd rather stay with anyone other than Petunia!"

Lily watched her friend anxiously, trying to read her reactions.

“No, they wouldn't mind. I mean, my aunt said that I could bring a friend if I wanted, but…”

Audrey's mouth dropped open in horror; she had clearly not meant to tell Lily that. Her friend, however, seemed oblivious to Audrey's horror.

“Great!” Lily replied. "That's fantastic! Thank you so much, Audrey. You don't know how much this means to me!"

Lily felt happiness swell up inside her. She would be spending the summer with one of her best friends. She wouldn’t have to deal with her sister at all. A large smile spread across her face.

“I’ve got to owl my parents before we leave tomorrow,” Lily muttered excitedly.

She quickly leaped out of her seat, leaving her half-eaten breakfast on the table. She grabbed her bag and rushed out of the Great Hall, leaving a shocked Audrey behind.

“No! Wait! Lily!” Audrey called after her friend.

She rapidly abandoned her own breakfast and ran off towards the Owlery to stop her friend before she sent that owl to her parents. Lily didn’t know what she was getting herself into. If she had known about him, then she never would have agreed to this. However, Audrey’s hopes of catching Lily were dashed as she collided into someone else. She let out a groan of pain as her head hit the hard floor. Her school supplies were scattered everywhere. The situation couldn’t get much worse.

“You fell, Devy,” an annoyingly familiar voice told her.

She was wrong about the situation not getting worse. It just had. She mentally groaned. She didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with him at the moment. She look up to see Sirius Black standing over her with a very satisfied smile on his face, and something else that looked suspiciously like smeared red lipstick. She was only curious about it for a second before a flustered looking Ravenclaw quickly left the broom closet Black was standing in front of. Figures, she thought.

“I know I fell, Black. I don’t need you to narrate my life,” she responded as Black stretched out a hand to help her up. She looked at it for several seconds, debating whether or not to accept help from someone like him.

“I won’t bite,” he responded with laughter as she begrudgingly accepted his hand. “Not unless you ask first.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” she responded sarcastically, temporarily forgetting her quest to find Lily before she was able to send an owl to her parents.

“I know,” he said cockily with an extremely smug smile on his face.

“I was being sarcastic,” she replied angrily.

“I knew that too. It doesn’t change the fact that I am a gentleman,” he responded. Audrey rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” she demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing. I was saying goodbye to a friend,” he answered, emphasizing the word “I,” and making it obvious that he wanted her to tell him what she had been doing. She refused to give into him.

“In a broom closet?” she asked derisively, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t be so jealous. We can say goodbye in a broom closet too,” he said suggestively.

He grabbed her hand and began to lead her towards the broom closet. She quickly yanked her hand away. She began to walk off when she remembered the events that occurred earlier that morning. She let out a small groan. She had spent too much time bantering with Black. Lily was sure to have already sent that letter. There was no way to avoid it now. Lily was almost definitely spending the summer with her and her cousin.

“Have you seen James?” she asked.

“You want to say goodbye to him in a broom closet? That’s just sick, Devy,” he responded in a teasing voice. It still caused Audrey recoil slightly at his words. She felt slightly sick at the suggestion of her and James like that.

“That’s disgusting! No. I can’t believe you would even suggest that,” she replied, cringing as she spoke. Her mind was still reeling with the suggestion. The thought of her and James together like that was enough to want to make her throw up. Audrey could feel her dislike for him growing even more each second.

“You can never tell with you, Devy,” Black answered lightly as Audrey sent him a harsh glare.

“I need to find Lily,” she replied, ignoring his suggestion and the horrible nickname that he liked to call her. “You really enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

“I can think of some other things I would enjoy doing with you too,” he suggested seductively.

Audrey felt her cheeks turn pink against her will. He smirked arrogantly at her. She knew he had no interest in her. She really wasn’t his type at all, but he still insisted on constantly messing with her head. It only increased her dislike of him.

“Is she with James?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Lily.”

“Of course not! Lily has standards, unlike some people,” Audrey answered pointedly.

“Was that directed at me or James or the Marauders in general?” Black asked with an unfaltering smile on his face.

“All of you,” Audrey replied angrily. She had been hoping to get some sort of indignant response from him. Something she could easily turn back on him with a sarcastic comment. But nothing seemed to shake him.

“On behalf of James, Remus, Peter and myself, I would like to point out that we do have standards,” he replied smoothly, still unshaken by anything Audrey said.

“Having a pulse doesn’t count. And I’ll admit that Peter, Remus, and James have some standards, you on the other hand…”

“Must be why I’m attracted to you,” he answered.

Audrey felt herself blush against her will. He was doing this on purpose. Just to get a reaction out of her. Her experience with the opposite sex had been somewhat… limited. As in she had never really dated very much. It wasn’t exactly hard to get a response like that out of her, but no one seemed to enjoy it as much as Black did.

“And you’re attracted to me too, of course. Everyone is,” he added.

Audrey felt her cheeks grow continually redder. She mentally cursed herself for doing so. She knew that Black treated every girl exactly the same way as he treated her. Only, he seemed to enjoy annoying her more while he seemed to prefer to just snog all of the other girls in broom closets.

"You're really an arse, you know that right?" she asked.

He merely smiled and nodded as if he did in fact know that he was an arse and it did not bother him at all. Audrey let out a frustrated sigh.

“If you see James, tell him that I changed my mind and I’m bringing a friend.”

“It’s Lily, isn’t it?” Black asked knowingly.

She froze momentarily, wondering how on earth he knew that. Coming up with no other response, she merely nodded her head.

“How’d you convince her to come? She hates James. And me. No, wait. You decided to show your cousinly love for James, and play matchmaker.”

“No,” Audrey responded as she looked guiltily at her feet. She nervously twisted her hands together.

“Then what?” he asked. “There’s no way she would willingly agree to spend the summer with James and me without some convincing first.”

Audrey didn’t say anything. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. She refused to look at him.

“You didn’t tell her. Haven’t you two been friends for years? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

“James and I are cousins, not siblings. And, in case you didn’t notice, we’re not that close either,” she defended.

“You used to be,” he pointed out.

“Not anymore.”

( Chapter 1: Of Not So Secret Cousins )

A Case for Zutara - Avatar

Fri, 16 Feb 2007 22:06:46 GMT

Title: A Case for Zutara
Fandom: Avatar
Summary: Sokka jumps to some conclusions about his sister and a certain firebender after they leave Bato.
Characters: Sokka, Katara, Zuko (sort of)
Rating: PG
Pairings: You'd think it'd be Zutara, but no not really.
Spoilers: It takes place right after Bato of the Water Tribe. So, not many.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written in Sokka's POV.

I’m not an idiot, despite what my sister may say. Trust me, she’s wrong. There’s no way Momo is as smart as me. She really doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It doesn’t matter if Momo could find more food than I could. I got a little distracted. It’s not my fault that Momo just happens to be good at finding food. But like, I said earlier, no matter what Katara may claim, I am not an idiot.

I notice things. I noticed a lot of things during the time we spent with Bato. Specifically, I noticed some suspicious interactions between my baby sister and… I can’t bring myself to say it! It’s too horrible. Well, after that incident, I decided that I needed to keep a closer eye on Katara. She didn’t appreciate it very much.

“Sokka! Will you stop following me?”

It wasn’t much of a question, more like an order. But since when do men take orders from their baby sisters?

“I just want to make sure you’re safe from firebenders,” I said, emphasizing the firebender part.

“We’re on a deserted island.”

She had a point there.

Maybe.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s my job as your big brother to protect you from… everything.”

“But Sokka,” she protested. Probably about to go off on how she was capable and all that. I didn’t really care. I knew she was capable of protecting herself from murderous firebenders. I was more worried about her protecting herself from hormonal firebending princes. If she even wanted too, that is. She probably wanted to go run away with him ever since he tied her to a tree. Girls think that kind of stuff is romantic. Figures.

“No, Katara,” I said firmly. I wasn’t about to let her walk off by herself. It didn’t matter if the island was deserted. Fire nation troops could show up at any second. They could be landing with that stupid prince of theirs right now.

She was starting to look angry. An angry Katara is not a happy Katara. But that didn’t matter as long as she was an angry Katara who was not in the arms of… anyone. It is my duty to protect her, right?

“Sokka, I –”

“I don’t care, Katara.”

“Sokka, I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Oh.”

That was all I could say. I couldn’t let her go off by herself. But I wasn’t about to watch her… go.

“If that’s okay with the all powerful Sokka,” she added.

Her sarcasm did not go by unnoticed. I sent her an angry glare. She fiercely returned it and told me to leave. I was going to, but first I had to leave her with some ground rules. I wasn’t about to leave her and find some sort of sister-seducing prince had taken advantage of her.

“I am going to go over there for two minutes. Two minutes. When I come back, I expect you to be… done. And not hugging, kissing, touching, looking, or thinking about any firebenders.”

“What are you talking about?”

She put a confused look on her face. Probably just to throw me off. Something that dumb firebender probably showed her. She knows what I’m talking about. I’m her big brother. Nothing gets by me. My instincts are (almost) always right! Especially when it comes to baby sisters.

“You know what I’m talking about, Katara.”

“No, I really don’t.”

She put on that innocent look back on her face. The one that always got her out of trouble and me in it whenever we were little. She was hiding something. Well, trying to hide it anyway.

“Come on! You two were so obvious, even Momo could have picked up on it!”

If she said anything about Momo being smarter than me, I swear I was going to… do something. She would be sorry she said it, let’s just leave it at that.

“What?”

Nothing about Momo. Good.

“You and… him!”

I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I had accepted the fact that my little sister was possibly in love with the evil spawn of the fire nation. Doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge him or call him by his name or anything.

“Who?”

“Zuko.”

It took me a few minutes and it was a whisper. But I finally managed to say it. And after this point, I will never speak his name again. That dirty firebending prince would work better. Moody scar boy. Angry freak with a ponytail. Hormonal teenage boy lusting after my innocent little sister…

Maybe I should call him by his name.

“Me and Zuko? In love? You’re kidding, right?”

She pretended to be disgusted. Pretended. She loved him. I could tell. Although, it was nice to hear her deny it.

“I don’t blame you, Katara. It was Zuko and his evil Fire Nation ways. He’s… an attractive guy, an evil guy, but also attractive in his own way.”

“Are you sure you aren’t the one in love with Zuko?”

I glared at Katara. There I was, trying to be sympathetic. And she makes jokes. Ungrateful little sister. No wonder she loves him.

“Don’t even try to deny it, Katara. I’ve got eyes. And that bounty hunter was right, you are too pretty for Zuko!”

She was. My sister deserved way better than a prince. Okay, well, she deserved a prince, I guess. Just not a fire prince. A water prince, or an earth prince, or an air prince. Just someone who isn’t a fire prince. Doesn’t even have to be a prince. Someone like Aang or Haru or Jet. Well, no, not Jet.

“Zuko is not my boyfriend.”

Of course, he wasn’t. And Aang isn’t the avatar. And I’m not one of the best warriors from the Southern Water Tribe.

“Why didn’t you deny it, then?”

It’s not like I wanted it to be true. I’d much rather have Katara date someone else. But if she is going to go run off with fire princes, then I wanted to know so I could kill said fire prince before she had a chance to.

“I am denying it.”

“Why didn’t you deny it when that bounty hunter said that you were his girlfriend?”

Let’s see her get out of this one.

“I had other things on my mind!”

Sure she did.

“Like?”

“Like, oh no, we’re about to be captured!”

I paused for a moment before saying anything else. It might have been a slightly more pressing concern at the time. I could see her point. I’m not totally unreasonable.

“Fair enough.”

“So you believe me?” she asked.

“No.”

“What is it now?”

“What about that kiss?”

Let’s see her talk her way out of this one. She looked at me with anger and frustration before answering.

“What kiss? I’ve never kissed Zuko!”

“You asked Aang to kiss Zuko.”

No way could she get out of this one. There was nothing she could possibly say that would make me believe otherwise.

“Well, that proves it. I must be in love with Zuko if I want Aang to kiss him,” she deadpanned. Okay, she could say that. But, hey, in my defense, Katara likes some pretty weird things. I mean, example one, Zuko.

“You want me to kiss Zuko? I thought you were kidding.”

I turned around to see Aang had just joined our conversation. He looked a little shocked at what Katara had just said which I could understand.

“I was kidding. Sokka’s just being an idiot,” Katara defended.

“Hey!”

What was with Katara’s insistence of my idiocy? I’m a lot smarter than she gives me credit for. I was one of the brightest kids in the Southern Water Tribe. Of course, all of the older boys had left for the war. And when I was nine, the next oldest person there (other than Katara) was three. There aren’t a lot of people back home.

“Sokka, I’m not in love with Zuko.”

“You thought she was in love with Zuko? Why would you think that? Katara would never do that!” Aang protested.

“And you said it was so obvious that Momo would have picked up on it.”

“Hey, Momo’s smart!”

Still not as smart as me, but he’s an intelligent little lemur.

I looked at her suspiciously. Her voice was filled with sarcasm, but she looked sincere. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe.

“Sokka, I swear I don’t love Zuko.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Don’t think that this means that I’m going to stop being an overprotective big brother. And you’re not allowed to go near any member of the opposite sex, other than me and Aang, until you’re thirty... Other than me.”

Avatar or not, Aang’s still a guy. He’s twelve. It doesn’t mean he’s won't grow up. And Katara loves those hero types. Who’s more heroic than the avatar?

“Fine. Now can you two please leave? I still have to pee.”

For Now - Charmed

Thu, 01 Jun 2006 14:01:40 GMT

Title: For Now
Fandom: Charmed
Characters: Chris
Rating: G
Prompt: #30 Denial
Word Count: 404
Spoilers: None really.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for psych_30

Chris felt a wave of drowsiness come over him as he struggled against his desire to keep listening and his desire to block out everything that he was hearing. He tightly shut his eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon, even though he knew it wouldn’t.

The voices upstairs in the attic would keep him awake. He would try and forget them as soon as he heard them. He would try and block them out. He would do anything as long as it kept him from admitting the obvious.

One of the voices belonged to his brother. He didn’t think about to whom the other voice might belong. He already had an idea of who it might belong to and he didn’t want to know anything beyond that. He didn’t even want to know that. He had heard the voice before. Many times. It had an oily, sinister quality to it. It used to make Chris shiver whenever he heard it. He had grown used to it now. It wasn’t the voice itself that had made Chris shiver. He had heard many far more threatening ones before. It was who the voice was speaking with that bothered Chris more than anything else. The sinister voice was speaking with his older brother, Wyatt in a calm, civilized – even friendly – tone.

Wyatt and the mystery voice had met several times. He’d never met who it belonged to and he didn’t want to. If he met him it met facing the possibility that Wyatt might be… And he could accept that. Wyatt was the Twice-Blessed. How could he be anything, but good?

Chris refused to accept that his older brother could be anything but good. It was a subject he didn’t like to think about. Anytime, he came close, he would push it away to the back of his mind. Wyatt had been a little off since their mother’s death. But that was expected. Their mother had died. She had died. How could anyone expect them to go back to normal after that? Their aunts had died the year before their mom. Their dad was barely around. All they had was their grandpa and each other. They were the last Halliwells left. They had to stick together. Right? That’s the reason Chris pretended he couldn’t hear the voices down the hall. Wyatt was good. Family sticks together. That was all Chris needed to know. For now.

Easier - Charmed

Wed, 19 Apr 2006 01:56:06 GMT

Title: Easier
Fandom: Charmed
Characters: Chris
Rating: G
Prompt: #29 Repression
Word Count: 311
Spoilers: Prince Charmed
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Written for psych_30

The words still echoed clearly in Chris’s head. He could barely believe they were true, but they were. His own mother had just kicked him out of his own house. Told him she never wanted to see him again.

And he hadn’t felt a thing. The words were supposed to cut him. They were supposed to hurt him. They were supposed to make him bleed. He was supposed to feel pain, and he felt nothing. The words hadn’t done anything to him at all.

He didn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t feel pain or happiness or sadness or anything else. He had slowly cut himself off from any emotions. He’d had to. They had been drowning him when he first came to the past. Confusion. Pain. Sorrow. Every time one of them gave him that distrusting look. Every time he knew Leo was following him.

The emotions had swelled up inside him until he could barely take it anymore. Then they stopped. Every single one of them. Not just the bad ones, but the good ones too.

He forced himself to live on a primitive level. He preferred it that way. He would eat and sleep when he needed to. He focused his energy on saving Wyatt, so he wouldn’t have to deal with his emotions. It was easier that way. Emotions would only distract him from his goal. He couldn’t function any other way. It would become too much for him. The weight of his emotions would crush him. He knew this, and so he pushed them away.

It was easier without them. His brother used to say that too. Chris had protested it then. Denied it. Our powers come from our emotions. We can’t live without them. Wyatt had just said that it was easier without them. Chris had never understood what he meant until now. It was easier.

Difference - Rent

Sun, 16 Apr 2006 16:21:53 GMT

Title: Difference
Fandom: Rent
Characters/Pairings: very slight Mimi/Roger, Roger/April
Rating: PG-13/R-ish
Summary: "She had always seen a subtle difference between the two jobs. It was subtle, but it was there. Stripper did not equate prostitute."
Words: 927
Warning: Some naughty words, extremely mild violence, suggestion of rape
Notes: Won third place at speed_rent
Disclaimer: Not mine.

“I’m not a whore. I’m not a whore,” Mimi kept repeating to herself again and again as she walked down the dark, empty streets, hoping that they would sound true if she said it long enough.

She had only been working for this job for two weeks. The other girls had told her what to expect. Rude guys. Drunk idiots. Men waving money at her. She had been prepared for that. She had been expecting that. Nothing like that had ever surprised her. But what he called her had left her in complete shock. It was something she hadn’t been prepared for. Nobody warned her about it. And she was certainly not expecting anyone to call her that.

The words had shocked her as soon as she heard them. She wondered why they had surprised her as much as they did. She had been leaving the club when she saw one of the customers who had been there all night. His had been glued to her for a good portion of the night. She stopped walking as soon as she caught sight of him. She instinctively knew he was waiting for her, and she felt a mixture of flattery and fear.

Only, the flattery vanished as quickly as it came, leaving only fear. The terror and knowledge increased with every step he took towards her. She knew what he was doing. She looked around for a way out. But the only way to leave would take her right by him.

She took a chance, and tried to run. But his arm caught her and threw her down. The side of her face collided with the hard, cold cement. A warm trickle of blood mingled with tears slowly seeped down her cheek. She barely had time to register the words that he yelled at her. But they hurt more than any other injury he could possibly give her.

“You stupid whore!” he spit out.

The words cut deeply into her like a knife. She tightly closed her eyes, hoping that it would all be over soon. She waited for him to say something else, to do something else. She focused on the pain in her head, hoping that it would numb all other senses of feeling.

“Are you okay?” someone asked. Someone different. It wasn’t the same man as before. Not the same one who had tried to hurt her. His voice was nicer, more gentle. She opened her eyes, and saw a blond-haired man holding out his hand to help her off the ground. She noticed a woman, presumably his girlfriend, standing nearby, awkwardly holding a guitar case and a small bag of something. She couldn’t see the other man anywhere.

“He’s gone?” she asked somewhat frightened. She was afraid he still might be lurking nearby.

“Yeah, I kicked his ass, and he ran out of here as fast as he could,” he said with a proud smile on his face. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, it was just some things that he said,” she mumbled gratefully.

“Things he said? You’re bleeding,” he stated.

“I know,” she said feeling a little stupid. The words he said had hurt her more than anything else. But how was she supposed to explain that to a random stranger?

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked looking genuinely concerned.

“Yes, I just want to go home,” she answered.

“Do you need someone to go with you? And are you sure you don’t want to go to a hospital? That cut looks really bad,” he asked. Mimi nodded her head in response, but he still seemed reluctant to leave her alone. He eyed the cut on her head, as she vaguely wondered how bad it was.

“Roger! She’s fine! Let’s go,” the other woman shouted at him.

“I’m fine,” Mimi told him before he could protest anymore. She appreciated his concern, but it was making her feel slightly uncomfortable. Roger stared at Mimi for a minute before turning to leave with his girlfriend.

“Thank you,” Mimi whispered as she watched Roger take the guitar case back from his girlfriend and walked away. She instantly regretted her decision. She wished that she had allowed Roger to take her to a hospital or walk her back to her apartment.

She didn’t want to be alone. If she was alone, it meant that there wasn’t anything to distract her. She had time to think now. She had time to focus on what the man had called her. It was something she didn’t want to think about.

She knew her job wasn’t the most respectable job in the world. She knew how others viewed her. But to call her something like a whore. She had always seen a subtle difference between the two jobs. It was subtle, but it was there. Stripper did not equate prostitute. It didn’t mean whore.

There was a big difference between a whore and stripper. A whore would give it away to anyone she saw as long as they paid. It was part of their job. But a stripper, a stripper didn’t have to do that. A stripper could pick and choose. A stripper didn’t even have to have sex if she didn’t want to. A whore did. And so she kept repeating the words to affirm her place as a stripper, not a whore.

“I’m not a whore,” Mimi started to speak the words out loud as she started walking home. She repeated them over and over again, hoping that they would sound true as soon as they hit the air.

Sirius-Isms Chapter 2 - Harry Potter

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 02:45:07 GMT

Title: Sirius-Isms
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Sirius, Remus, James, Lily
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sirius is secretly in love with Lily, as is James. Lily has finally agreed to go out with James, though. Sirius desperately tries to destroy their date, and from that we have my new story.
Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 2: Purple Bubbles and Dirty Minds

Lily couldn’t help, but notice the odd things that were going on at breakfast that morning.

She sat down next to James who was smiling nervously. Lily could hardly believe that James was the same person who used to hex people for fun when they got on his nerves. This James was sweet and more mature. He could still be a little arrogant at times, but overall he had really improved. He still played pranks on people sometimes, but they were no longer cruel or hurt anyone. Lily mentioned this to Nore last night, but she just made a bizarre noise and went to sleep.

Perhaps it was Lily’s imagination but for some reason she imagined that Sirius’s eyes kept flickering towards her that morning. And it seemed that Nore and Sirius kept exchanging strange looks with some sort of significance.

“What’s up, you guys?” she asked as Sirius and Nore exchanged another look as James put his arm around Lily.

“Nothing,” responded Sirius quickly.

“You guys keep looking at each other,” James added.

“We do not,” Nore denied her face growing red. Lily wondered vaguely if she and Sirius were going out. Or if one of them at least had a crush on the other.

Sirius, however, made no attempt, however, to deny that he and Nore had been exchanging glances.

“We played a prank together yesterday, and we’re wondering how it turned out,” answered Sirius smoothly.

“On who?” Lily demanded, as long as she had known Nore she had never been one to play pranks on other people. She’d been like Lily and denounced it as cruel and immature.

“Without me?” asked James indignantly.

“We didn’t think Mrs. Prongs would approve,” replied Sirius with the smallest trace of bitterness hidden in his voice as Lily blushed at being called Mrs. Prongs.

“What’d you do?” asked James excitedly, as Lily rolled her eyes, and as Sirius predicted Mrs. Prongs did not approve.

“I can’t believe you helped him, Nore,” commented Lily sounding amazed.

“So, what did you do?” persisted James with the enthusiasm of a small child on Christmas morning.

But a strange strangled noise prevented Sirius from answering.

Everyone turned their heads and saw that Remus was now making his way towards them, looking rather angry.

“Hey Moony,” James greeted. “I didn’t see you last night where were you?”

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead a large stream of purple bubbles issued out of his mouth. Lily was looking angrily at James, Sirius, Peter, and Nore. James looked as though he was also trying to resist the urge to laugh, no doubt to impress her. Nore was biting on her bottom lip. Sirius and Peter, however, were making no attempts whatsoever to restrain themselves.

“What happened, Moony?” asked James whose resolution not to laugh had finally given away.

Remus pointed an angry finger at Sirius, who turned around, and looked behind him.

“That little Ravenclaw did that to you, Moony?” asked Sirius pointing to a small, Hufflepuff first-year sitting behind them.

“Was this your prank?” Lily asked Sirius and Nore staring disbelievingly at Nore. Lily would never expect anything like this from Nore. Sirius, yes. Nore, no.

“No, it was her,” Sirius told them pointing at the small Ravenclaw again.

“Why don’t you take it off yourself?” Peter asked Remus stupidly.

“How is he supposed to cast any Countercurse when purple bubbles fly out of his mouth whenever he opens it?” asked James impatiently as Peter flushed.

“Finite incantatem,” muttered Lily taking out her own wand and pointing it at Remus.

He opened his mouth to thank her, but another rush of purple bubbles soared out of his mouth.

“That first-year really knows her stuff,” commented Sirius.

“Lily did a spell wrong,” said James in a horrible sing-song voice.

“It’s not too late to cancel on you,” threatened Lily.

James suddenly looked stricken.

“Take it off him, Sirius,” James commanded, his voice deeper and more pleasant as his hand automatically flew to his hair.

“But I though that that first…” Peter trailed off as the rest of them stared at him incredulously. “Oh.”

Sirius turned around in his seat and tapped the first-year, Hufflepuff girl on the back. She turned in her seat and looked at Sirius with a horrified expression on her face.

“Very funny joke. Could you take the spell off Remus now?” Sirius asked her. Her eyes widened and a red flush crept into her face.

“Aw, she has a crush on you,” remarked Lily with a sweet smile, and for some reason Sirius’s face was now tinted with a very light pink as well.

“She seems a bit young for you, Padfoot,” James added.

An odd strangled noise came from nearby. Lily looked over and saw that Remus was trying to get their attention without opening his mouth.

“We tried to get her to take off the curse. Sorry, Moony,” Sirius apologized attempting to look innocent.

Remus glowered furiously at Sirius. He took out his own wand and pointed it at him, but when he attempted to cast a spell, more bubbles came from his mouth.

“Sirius, just take the spell off him,” directed Nore.

“I can’t Nore,” he responded throwing her a quick glance as if he were trying to communicate an unspoken message causing half the table to wonder if there was anything going on between the two of them.

“Why not?” she asked obviously not getting whatever message Sirius was trying to convey to her.

“It doesn’t have a Countercurse,” replied Sirius sliding in his seat as far away as possible from Remus, who now looked ready to strangle Sirius.

Another stream of bubbles came from Remus’s mouth. And Lily was quite sure that he had just attempted to say something that he would never dare say in front of his mother.

“So, he’s just going to be walking around with bubbles coming out of his mouth for the rest of his life?” Peter asked.

“No, it took awhile for it to get started, so it takes awhile for it to end,” Sirius told them calmly.

“I can’t tell for certain, but judging by the look on his face, I think that he wants to know how long the curse will last,” said Lily interpreting the look on Remus’s face.

“And he’s very, very angry," James added.

Lily turned back towards the rest of them and saw Sirius smile almost… well, as if he were in love with her. And for half of a second she believed it, before she convinced herself that she was crazy. Sirius was James’s best friend, and he would never do anything to hurt him.

“It lasts about a week,” responded Sirius trying to sound very casual, but looking extremely apprehensively at Remus.

Glaring angrily at Sirius no longer seemed to be enough for Remus. He reached over and hit Sirius on the arm.

“Ow! That hurt, Moony!” said Sirius rubbing the spot where Remus had hit him.

“I think it was supposed to,” commented James wryly.

“Why would Remus want to hurt me?” asked Sirius as though he had done nothing wrong.

“Why’d you cast a spell on Remus anyway?” asked Lily curiously.

“Don’t ask me. It was Nore’s idea,” said Sirius accusingly.

“Nore?" Lily repeated disbelievingly.

“It was not!” denied Nore hotly.

What happened to the ickle first year?” asked James smirking.

“They’re evil pranking masterminds when they’re together! They forced me!” muttered Sirius insanely.

“You couldn’t stand up to the ickle first year and Nore?” asked James incredulously.

“Hey!” protested Nore as she weakly hit James on the shoulder.

“What?” asked James completely nonplussed.

“People can’t walk all over me! I could make Sirius do something if I wanted to,” Nore defended herself quickly realizing that she had just walked into a trap.

“And what do you want to make Sirius do?” asked James raising an eyebrow with a sickening smile on his face.

“You have a dirty mind, James Potter,” answered Nore darkly.

“Relax, Nore, he was only joking,” comforted Lily.

“Says who?” retorted James. “Who knows what goes on in that dirty little head of hers?”

“Can’t be anything worse than what goes on in your head,” Nore smirked triumphantly.

“Ha! So you admit that you have dirty thoughts?” said James triumphantly.

“Not any dirtier than yours,” replied Nore with a somewhat twisted smile.

“Define dirty,” James told her as everyone laughed.

“Anything that enters your head is dirty,” she said dryly.

“You’re the one with the dirty mind, all I wanted to know is what you would force Sirius to do,” said James suggestively as he grinned wickedly.

“The way you’re making it sound…” she trailed off.

“You keep jumping to conclusions with all of your sick and perverted thoughts," James replied airily as though they were talking about the weather.

“I think you’re both dirty,” Lily put in.

“Well, that works out perfectly then!” yelled James happily as he hugged her. “She’s your best friend and you’re in love with me!”

“I am not in love with you!” protested Lily, as a strangely hopeful look came over Sirius’s face, which Lily promptly decided to ignore.

“You like dirty minded people though,” James pointed out.

“I never said that!” cried Lily indignantly.

“Then explain how Nore’s your best friend,” demanded James.

“I do not have a dirty mind!”

“Not as dirty as Lily’s,” remarked James.

“Hey!” cried Lily.

“You might want to end this conversation now,” Nore warned him.

“Right. My lady,” James addressed Lily his voice deeper and more mature once more, as his hand automatically flew up to his head, “would you care to accompany me to Hogsmeade?”

“Do I have to curtsy?” asked Lily with a pink tinge in her cheeks.

“It’s optional,” he answered sweetly as he extended a hand to her. She took it smiling at how sweet he could be, completely unaware of the glare that they were receiving from their fellow classmate.

Sirius-Isms Chapter 1 - Harry Potter

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 02:43:47 GMT

Chapter 1: Best Friends and Curses

Sirius was staring at the Hogwarts grounds out of the window in the Gryffindor Common Room. His best friend, James, was standing down there talking with Lily, and Sirius had a strong feeling of what James might be saying to the girl that Sirius had been in love with for a year. Lily was absolutely perfect. Sirius could find no flaws about her. She was tall and beautiful. She was smart and stood up for herself and other, even though she usually did this to Sirius and James. Sirius loved her anyways.

Sirius had never admitted his feelings for Lily to anyone, although Remus did figure it out eventually. But James had been in love with Lily since first year, and Sirius always felt that his loyalty was to his friend. He always figured that James would eventually give up and move on with his life, leaving Sirius free to ask out Lily.

"What are you doing, Padfoot?" came a voice from behind Sirius, as he instantly recognized it.

"Nothing, Moony," he replied as James left Lily looking rather excited, and Lily's best friend, Nore, ran over to her. "Damn."

"What?" queried Remus.

"Nothing," Sirius repeated as Remus joined him by the window and looked down where Sirius had been looking.

"You know, Padfoot, if you keep this up you could achieve stalker status," commented Remus as though they were discussing the weather.

"I'm not a stalker!" protested Sirius grumpily.

"If you love her so much why don't you ask her out?" questioned Remus tiredly, as though they had had this conversation many times before.

"Because James has a tiny crush on her, and he's my best friend!" answered Sirius.

"Why don't you tell him how you feel?" asked Remus.

"Because James would kill me!" exclaimed Sirius.

Remus did not deny this, not that he had the chance. Because at that very moment, James came bursting into the Common Room looking as though he had just run a marathon. Breathing heavily, he walked as fast as he could over to Sirius and Remus.

"She said yes!" he managed to say between breaths with an extremely proud look on his face.

"Who? Lily?" asked Sirius sounding shocked.

"Yeah," said James with a distant, dreamy look on his face. "I have to go meet Lily in the library now. She said she'd help me with my Charms essay too. It's so much better to call her by her first name instead of Evans."

And with that, James exited the Common Room, as quickly as he had entered it.

"Sirius," said Remus softly immediately after James had left them.

"Damn it. You know me too well," muttered Sirius sourly as he glared at James as he left the Common Room.

"How are you?” questioned Remus concernedly.

"I'm fine," lied Sirius. "Why shouldn't I be? Just because my best friend is going on a date with the girl I've had a crush on since sixth year!"

"As opposed to James who has loved her since first year," Remus reasoned.

"Exactly. Moony, you have to help me!" cried Sirius desperately.

"With what?" asked Remus, looking at Sirius very suspiciously.

"You have to help me ruin their date so Lily will fall in love with me instead," Sirius pleaded insanely.

"Sirius, do you realize what you're asking me to do?" asked Remus very slowly as though he was talking to a small child.

"Yes," replied Sirius in the same tone that Remus had used on him.

"So, you realize hat you're asking me to help you ruin your very best friend's date with a girl that it took him four years to agree to go out with him?" asked Remus incredulously.

"Well, he shouldn't be going out with a girl that I have a crush on! He should know better!" protested Sirius.

"He doesn't know that you fancy her!" retorted Remus. "If he knew he might not have asked her out!"

"Well, why didn't you tell me earlier?" cried Sirius exasperatedly.

Remus shrugged and said, "Sirius, James has been waiting a very long time to get a date with Lily. He's been in love with her since his first year. Why can't you just be happy for him?"

"Well, why can't it be the other way around?" asked Sirius. "Besides I've had a crush on her since sixth year, so I've fancied her longer."

"That makes no sense," said Remus with a sigh.

"Yes, it does! Because six is a higher number than one, so that proves that I've loved her longer!"

"No, that proves that you can't count," snapped Remus who was beginning to sound annoyed.

"Fine. Make fun of me. Betray me, just like James. He stole the girl I'm in love with!"

"First of all I am not betraying you and neither did James. And as for you loving Lily, you don't know anything about her," reasoned Remus.

"I do too!" lied Sirius who know almost nothing about Lily apart from the fact that she was a muggle-born, in Gryffindor, and the Head Girl. But he didn't need to know everything about her. He knew he loved the way she looked when she laughed. He loved the way she stood up for others, even if it included Snivellus. He loved the way she always seemed to know the answers in class.

"What's her middle name?" questioned Remus taking Sirius from his list of the reasons why he fancied Lily.

"Er."

"Exactly," said Remus smugly.

"Fine! I'll just go and get someone else to help me!" cried Sirius.

"And I'll go warn James," Remus responded.

"No, you can't!" shouted Sirius as he pulled out his wand and aimed it at his friend. "Favericus."

"What did you do?" asked Remus sounding annoyed.

"Do mine ears deceive me? Does Prefect Moony not know what a spell does?" asked Sirius in tones of mock surprise.

"Sirius Orion Black," said Moony warningly.

"You'll figure it out later. It takes a few minutes to get started," replied Sirius as he quickly left the Common Room and ran away from his angry friend. He ran down the halls so quickly not watching where he was going that he bumped into two of his fellow Gryffindors seventh-years. Sirius got to his feet smiling at the two of them as a new plan formed in his head.

He studied both of the girls for a second. The first girl had long dark red hair and brilliant green eyes. The second girl was several inches shorter than the first and had short brownish-black hair and soft brown eyes.

Sirius held out a hand to Lily and helped her up, although he ignored her best friend, Nore, who got up looking slightly insulted and muttering wildly under her breath.

“Are you okay, Evans?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Lily replied.

“I’m fine too,” interjected Nore slightly indignantly.

“That’s good,” he said. “I heard that you finally agreed to go out with Jamesie.”

“Yes,” said Lily smiling uncertainly. She had not detected the bitterness in Sirius’s voice, although Nore might have because she was now staring shrewdly at Sirius.

“She agreed to go out with him out of her own free will,” put in Nore rather pointedly.

“I didn’t say that James forced her,” muttered Sirius sulkily glaring at her.

“I have to go meet James in the library. I’ll see you both later. Bye!” said Lily as she began heading in the direction of the library. Sirius felt anger flare up inside himself at these words, but he couldn’t help smiling at her as she retreated to the library. Sirius was completely unaware that Nore was still there or that she was now staring at him.

“Sirius,” said Nore waving a hand in front of her face. Sirius’s thoughts were torn from Lily and were now on the short, seventh year in front of her. “You in there?”

“Oh, hey Nore,” he said as though he just noticed that she was there.

“Were… were you just staring at Lily?” Nore asked again studying him intently.

“Of course not!” Sirius replied haughtily as though she were crazy. Sirius had always had a gift of making people believe whatever he said.

“Because the way you were just staring at her, it seemed as though… do you fancy her, Sirius?” Nore asked hesitantly but determinedly.

“No,” denied Sirius in the same tone as before while Nore raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little,” Sirius confessed as though it was the kind of thing one would say casually in passing.

Nore dropped her bag, so that all of her books, quills, ink, and parchment fell out and were splattered with tiny drops on ink. But Nore did not bend down to pick them up, nor was she aware that her bag was no longer in her hands.

“Sirius!” she hissed. “Does James know?”

“Yes, of course he does! Why else would he have asked her out?” retorted Sirius sarcastically.

“What’s James going to do when he finds out? He’s completely in love with her!”

“So am I!” responded Sirius hotly.

“What’s her middle name?” asked Nore.

“Why do people keep asking me that?” asked a very frustrated Sirius putting his hand up to his head.

“James will kill you when he finds out!”

“Which is why we’re not going to tell him!”

“So, you’re just going to secretly be in love with Lily forever?” she asked.

“No. Really, Nore, they won’t go out for more than a week,” answered Sirius a lot more confidently then he felt.

“What if they go out more than a week? What if he and Lily get along real well and they get married or something?” inquired Nore.

Sirius felt a powerful surge of jealousy rise through him. He felt anger. He had a vision of Lily and James kissing. Of James proposing to her. Of them getting married while he stood off to the side. He envisioned small versions of James and Lily running around a yard calling him Uncle Padfoot. And for the first time ever, Sirius sincerely wished that he had never met James Potter.

“We have to make sure that does not happen!” Sirius told her. “I can’t be Uncle Padfoot!”

“Uncle Padfoot? And we?” repeated Nore. “What? Do you want me to help you sabotage their date or something?”

“Yes!” cried Sirius.

“No!”

“Nore! Why not?” he whined.

“Let’s see,” she replied in tones of mock seriousness. “One, she’s my best friend. Two, he’s your best friend. Three, he’s loved her since forever. Four-”

“Okay. Okay. But, what if she and James do hit it off and Lily falls in love with him and then he just decides to dump her,” Sirius pointed out.

“He’s been after her for years! He’s not about to dump her,” Nore assured him although Sirius was positive that he had detected a note of doubt in her voice. A new plan was now forming in his head as he looked at her.

“That’s exactly it! People want what they can’t have! Now that James has Lily he won’t want her anymore!” argued Sirius. He knew that Nore was immensely loyal to her friend and would hate it if Lily were to be crushed by James.

“That’s not true,” countered Nore, the doubt in her voice becoming more pronounced each second.

“It is! Help me, Nore,” pleaded Sirius. “I know you don’t want to see Lily hurt and neither do I.”

“She won’t be hurt,” she muttered trying to convince herself more than Sirius. “James is…”

Sirius and Nore both knew exactly what James was. For someone who always seemed to be chasing after Lily, he also always seemed to have a girlfriend as well. And James seemed to have a knack for breaking their hearts. He had never had a relationship that had last more than three weeks. Sirius knew how much Nore would hate it for Lily to become another name on the long list of James’s ex-girlfriends. But then again, Sirius knew that James genuinely loved Lily.

“I love her more,” whispered Sirius so distractedly that he did not hear Nore speak.

“Sirius, did you hear me? I said I’d help,” repeated Nore looking as though she regretted each word as she spoke them.

“Really? You will?” asked Sirius excitedly, as new plans were once more forming in his head.

“Yes,” sighed Nore. “But I’m adding this to the list of Sirius-isms.”

“What?”

“It’s the list that Lily and I have of the stupid things you do.”

( Chapter 2 )

Biological - Charmed

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 00:24:10 GMT

Title: Biological
Fandom: Charmed
Characters: Paige, Prue
Rating: PG
Summary: A young Paige finds out she's adopted, freaks out, and is comforted by a dark-haired girl that she meets.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Written for quillandink

“It’s up here somewhere. I know it is,” I muttered to myself as I opened another trunk. The cold air of the attic was continually stinging my skin. I tugged on my sweater slightly, hoping for some more warmth. Damn school project. Where do I come from? was the assignment. The idiotic, useless assignment. I know where I come from. I don’t need to find a stupid baby book so I can find out how much I weighed as a baby.

There was nothing in this trunk either. I had been through eight trunks and fourteen boxes and found nothing! I lifted myself off floor which was thickly covered in dust, and took in my surroundings again. I checked that one. And that one. And that one. And that one. And practically all of them!

Where was all of the stuff about me? There were some of my baby clothes, a few pictures, and old toys scattered in random boxes and trunks, but nothing much altogether. There were more boxes dedicated to my pain-in-the-ass second cousin, Mitch, than there were to me. And I know my parents love me more than Mitch. He was the biggest pain in the ass in the world. It’s not that hard to love me more. The lack of my childhood possessions was disturbing. It was like my things that I found here could have belonged to someone else. Someone who didn’t grow up in this house. Someone who didn’t play in the backyard everyday after school. Someone who didn’t fall down the stairs and break her arm when she was seven. Almost like I wasn’t there growing up. Like these things belonged to some neighbor girl, not me. It was like I barely existed.

“Maybe I should just call Glen and call it a night,” I sighed in defeat as I started to leave the attic when something caught my eye. A fairly large trunk marked Paige, practically hidden in the corner.

“About time!” I thought to myself. Glen would have to wait. The latch on the trunk unlocked easily. I slowly ran my hand over the baby book that had been placed cautiously on top of the trunk. This was it. Proof. Proof that I did exist and that my parents loved me more than any pain-in-the-ass second cousins. Proof that I really was here.

There was a slip of paper stuck between the inside of the cover and the first page of the book. I carefully pulled it out without opening the book and unfolded the paper.

I froze in shock. The tips of my fingers suddenly became glued to the small piece of paper. It couldn’t be right. There was no way it could be true. Because if it was true it would mean that my parents weren’t my parents. And they were. They were my parents. Adoption. They would have told me. They would have told me a long time ago if I was adopted, wouldn’t they?

But it was sitting right there in front of me. Glaringly obvious. It explained a lot. Like why when I was six and I asked my mom for a little sister, she said it would be impossible. She said she couldn’t have babies. Then when I asked her about how she had me, she just brushed me off.

A sister. I could have several sisters. And brothers. And all sorts of other family members. Adopted. I was adopted.

But they gave you up, a cruel voice inside my mind reminded me. They didn’t want you. Maybe they did. Maybe they couldn’t keep me for some reason. They did want me.

“Paige? What are you doing up here?” my mother’s voice called from behind me. Had she been there long?

“Just looking through some stuff,” I answered, quickly stuffing the adoption certificate inside my pocket before turning to face my mother. My adoptive mother.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked. I could sense a hint of fear in her voice. She was afraid. She didn’t want me to know. I wasn’t sure whether to confront her and yell at her or tell her that she was still my mother no matter what. I chose confrontation.

“I did actually,” I said coolly as I pulled out the adoption certificate and held it up, wondering why I had even tried to hide it initially.

“Paige…”

“I had a right to know!” I loudly screamed the first thing that came into my head as my voice reverberated off of the walls.

“What’s going on up here? Oh…” my adoptive father said as he entered the room looking concerned. His eyes fell on the piece of paper that I was gripping in my hand. I looked down at it again. It was funny almost. How a small piece of paper could cause so much trouble.

“Paige, we were going to tell you. We just wanted to wait until you were ready,” my mother pleaded desperately with me. There were tears glistening in her eyes. My father was looking from me to her, looking so unsure. It was almost scary. He always seemed to know what to do. Seeing him look so helpless was terrifying.

“Paige, sweetie,” my dad choked out as he took a step towards me. He seemed to be dangerously close to crying.

“You lied to me,” I murmured, stepping away from him and crashing into the trunk behind me. There was a sharp pain as my head collided with something solid. I faintly registered my parents’ voices calling worriedly for me as my surroundings melted into darkness.

There was a dull ache throbbing in my head. I struggled to open my eyes. They were met with a flooding of white. There was a faint smell of ammonia and medicine in the air. A hospital. I was in a hospital. Had I hit my head that badly?

“Don’t worry. Your parents will be back soon,” a strangely familiar dark-haired girl in the next bed told me with a slightly raspy voice.

“They’re not my parents,” I mumbled to the stranger. It was strange, but she was easy to talk to, like I had known her all my life. I had no problem telling her that they weren’t my parents.

“Really?” she asked, sounding surprised. “Well, two random strangers have just spent the past six hours at your side.”

Six hours? I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought.

“Where are they now?” I asked, wondering why they decided to leave all of the sudden.

“They went down to get something to eat, I think. They didn’t exactly inform me. I just sort of overheard,” she explained. That made sense. They weren’t likely to tell some random girl where they were going or what they were doing.

“Why are you here?” I asked, observing the girl across from me. She didn’t appear to have any injuries like I did. She didn’t look like she was very sick either.

“Tonsils,” she said pointing to her throat.

“Where are your parents?” I asked. I was half expecting the girl to tell me to shut up, start minding my own business and stop asking so many questions.

“My mom died when I was little, and my dad isn’t around much. Or at all,” she said with a slight shrug.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, suddenly feeling like my problems weren’t quite as bad as hers. At least I had two people around who loved and cared for me, even if they weren’t my real parents.

“It’s okay. I have Grams and my two sisters. They’re not my parents, but they love and care for me a lot. They’re all I really need. What about yours?” she asked.

“Mine?”

“Your parents. If the people who weren’t in here before weren’t your parents, then who…”

“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish. I was still thinking about what the girl had said. They weren’t my biological parents. I didn’t have my biological parents anymore, in the same way this girl didn’t have her parents. My adopted parents. They were the ones who loved and cared for me.

“They’re my parents,” I said as a moment of clarity struck after a few moments of thinking.

“But you said…” she trailed off, looking at me with an extremely confused expression on her face.

“I know. I was wrong,” I said mentally smiling at the new perspective this girl had given me. I had my parents and that was enough for me. My biological parents had given me up, and my parents had decided to care for me for the last 13 years. Maybe someday, I’d look for my biological mother and father, but for now, I had my parents and they weren’t so bad most of the time.

“Thank you…” I added as an afterthought to the girl when I realized I didn’t even know her name.

“Prue,” she supplied with a smile as she held out her hand.

“Paige,” I said, taking comfort in my new friend.