Chapter 1 : Everyone Is Trying, Everyone is Shining (Who Are You? . . .The Dalai Lama)
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 47|
Background: Font color:
Strike us like matches, cause everyone deserves the flames
We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame
At least everyone is trying, everyone is shining
Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame
-Fall Out Boy
"Sirius. Sirius!" I screamed. I watched in horror as my best friend was dragged away by Aurors. "He’s innocent! I swear to God - he’s done nothing!" I unleashed a high-pitched, enraged scream, and time everywhere seemed to slow down. It took me a few moments to realize that it indeed had.
I wondered for a moment, if it had been an uncontrollable burst of my own magic that had slowed down time; but when I saw a tall, elegant figure with a long sleeping beard walking towards me, I knew that it hadn’t been me that had slowed time to an almost stop.
"Dumbledore," I breathed.
His long, quick paces and my frantic leaps brought us face-to-face in a short amount of time. Before I had a chance to talk, Dumbledore did. "Miss Xanthis , there is little time. Lily and James’ fate has already, unfortunately, been decided. Sirius’, however, has not."
I suppose I should explain...
For the first seven years of my life, my mother, my father, my brother and I lived peacefully along the coast of the Greek island, Crete. My mother, a witch, worked at the Greek Ministry for Magic. My Muggle father was a doctor.
It was mere days after I turned seven that my mother was offered a promotion; the only problem was that it entailed relocating to Great Britain. My father had no problems - doctors were always needed, and he could find work wherever. The problem was my brother. Eight years my senior, he was fifteen and already settled into his Wizarding school.
After fighting, tears, and confusion (that last one exclusively my own,) we found ourselves standing outside a modestly large home. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and other such rooms that come with a house of that size. For two weeks after we had moved, my brother refused to speak to either my mother or my father. He never cried, he was simply always angry.
He would yell at me for the smallest things, and by the time he had packed up his trunk to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a fifth year, I had learned to fight back. Four long years I had to wait before I was allowed to go to Hogwarts. By then, my brother had long since forgiven my parents, assimilated to the British culture, and finished his education. Taking after our father, he was training to be a healer.
On September 1st, 1972, I was lugging my trunk through Platform 9 3/4, my parents were behind me, carrying the cage of the owl I had received for my birthday a month earlier. Mushy goodbyes embarrassed me, but I bade a nervous goodbye to my parents and excitedly boarded the Hogwarts Express.
In my search for a compartment, I happened across a nice-looking girl with long red hair and stunning green eyes. She looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. "Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked the girl. She looked up from the textbook that she was reading (a textbook, why was she reading a textbook?) and nodded. I thanked her before setting down my belongings and settling into the seat.
Within the next twenty minutes, the girl, whose name I learned to be Lily Evans, was joined by a tall, slightly chubby blonde girl, and a short, brown haired boy. Almost immediately after the boy had greeted Lily and taken a seat, the train gave a jolt and began to move. After an hour of the ride (in which all three of the students whom I shared a compartment with were reading) I still had spoken little more than ten words to Lily.
I was about to ask Lily what year she was in when the compartment door slid open with a crash. Two tall boys stood in the doorway, one slightly taller, and broader than the other. The second boy had hair that stuck in all directions, and wore glasses with thin, black square frames. "Lily, my darling, how are you on this fine evening?"
"Far better before you came, Potter!" Lily Evans snarled. I figured that these two were most likely at least a year ahead of me; to say that they seemed to recognize each other would be an understatement.
The boy called Potter shrugged and nodded towards the blonde girl and the boy. He finally turned me and looked shocked to see me. "Who are you?"
"Er . . . the Dalai Lama?" I’m not sure what it was that possessed me to say that, but it was out of my mouth before I could decide whether or not the boy would find it funny.
The boy looked at me strangely, before smiling brightly. "Cool, I always wanted to meet that dude."
"James," asked the taller boy. He flipped his dark hair out of his face. "Who the fuck’s the dolly llama?"
"Oh my god, Sirius is worse than you, James," said Lily.
"Shut up," I said. Once again, I hadn’t thought about what I said.
"Excuse me?" said Lily. She seemed extremely afronted.
"I said . . . Shut up."
Lily looked at me in disgust. "Get-"
"No need to tell me," I interrupted. "I’m leaving."
I grabbed my heavy trunk and sleek black owl in his cage before leaving the compartment in an angry huff. I noticed for the first time two other boys, standing just behind their friends, outside. A boy with light brown hair had scars all over his face, and was only slightly taller than me. The last boy seemed to be staring intently at James Potter and Sirius, whose surname I did not know.
And then I realized that I had no compartment. The problem was quickly solved. "Hey, that was fucking awesome," said Sirius. I decided that he had an unnatural liking for the word ‘fuck’. "Wanna sit with us?"
"As opposed to making nice-nice with Lily Evans? Of course."
During the rest of the long train ride I learned that Sirius’ last name was Black; that the shortest, chubbiest boy who seemed to idolize James and Sirius was called Peter Pettigrew; and that the scarred boy was Remus Lupin, as well as the kindest person I had ever met.
The boys, as well as Lily and her two friends were Second years. And all but Lily’s male friend were in Gryffindor.
When I had thrown on my robes over the Muggle clothing I had worn that day, I was ready to exit the train. I was separated from my new friends when I had to follow the rest of the First years to the boats. I climbed onto a boat and was immediately followed by three other people. I was jumpy and jittery, part of my exuberant nature, and immediately received dirty looks from my boat-mates when the boat rocked and shifted dangerously in the water.
On the giant man’s orders, we went into the castle where we stood waiting. The noise level was high, I couldn’t be bothered. I was fascinated by the castle. It was more magnificent inside that it was outside, and that was saying something.
The chatter ceased immediately when a stern looking women entered and began to talk. I tried to listen, but couldn’t pay attention long enough to retain any information that would be important later. I simply stood and waited, planning on imitating whatever the other students were doing. I had hoped that at least they listened.
The lady returned and led us through doors that must have been two or three stories tall. We entered a bright room, ceiling like the night sky, and enchanted candles hovering above us. I smiled; my mother had told me about the sorting. I knew that I would be one of the last students called to the three-legged stool.
"Xanthis, Anastasia." Peter, Remus, James, and Sirius clapped loudly when my name was called. I had eventually confessed that I was not, in fact, that Dalai Lama. Sirius became frustrated when we refused to explain it to him. I was all for trying, but James told me that it would just be a waste of my time.
I sat down clumsily on the stool and the hat slipped over my eyes. I kicked my legs back and forth until I heard a voice. It seemed to be inside my head, though I doubted that.
"Hmmmm. Hello, dear. This will be quick; you needn’t worry. Without a doubt, you belong in-
I hopped down from the school, removing the sorting hat and tripping on my way to the Gryffindor table. Some laughed, others stifled their laughter, and others were sleeping, eagerly awaiting their dinner.
After I sat down and listened to the boys’ excited congratulations, Professor Dumbledore stood and spoke. (All over, was the amazing, accomplished wizard known; not just in Britain.)
He spoke a few wise words (nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak) and let us eat.
After a full dinner, I followed one of the prefects up to the Gryffindor common room. I followed the other timid first year Gryffindors up the spiraling staircase to our dormitory. Connie, Elena, Alice and Bria, I learned, were all nice enough, though perhaps a bit bland compared to the new friends I had already made.
And for four years I made my way through classes, catty girls, obnoxious boys (my favorite being the Marauders, as they came to be known) and growing up with little conflict.
And after that little introduction I believe that it is time for the story to truly begin...
A/N: For those you reading for the first time - enjoy! And for those of you that have come back after the entire year of Polychromatic's absence, thank you so much!
Other Similar Stories
My Road to N...