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Memoirs by harrylilyjames
Chapter 1 : The Boy Who Stole My Heart
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 6


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“Avada-,”

I am standing in the Great Hall, just off the Hogwarts Express.

“Lily Evans,” calls the greying, thin faced woman, who we found out was named McGonagall as she stands beside the stool, a battered and old-looking hat in her hand. My heart leaps up to my throat, I really don't mind which house I am going to placed in-Snape talked about every one of them really well and in their own little way, they would all be nice to be in- but still the unknown frightens me more than anything.

I begin to walk, my shoes echoing around the hall as I do so.

McGonagall smiles warmly at me and as I turn around to sit on the stool, my eyes land on a mass of black hair and without trying to make it obvious- I get the sudden urge to giggle and for a split second his hazel eyes lock onto mine, before I break the gaze and the hat falls over my head, blocking my vision.

After a few mumble whispers in my ears where I heard 'a lot of courage' and some other nonsense I was unable to make out due to the thumping of my heart, the hat calls out 'Gryffindor' and it is lifted from my head. The sudden brightness of the hall momentarily blinds me and without looking back at the rest of the new-comers I walk towards the table I knew belonged to Gryffindor House. My thoughts filled with the mass of black hair and glasses as I extend my arm to shake the hands of the other students.





I look at my reflection in the mirror, twisting a pink ribbon around my hair. I had to say 'no' didn't I? I thought to myself, turning to watch as one of my fellow Gyrffindors crawls out of bed. He was by himself, so it couldn't of been a sick prank he was trying to pull, could it? Oh, I don't know-but either way, I said no. I have just said no to the one man who makes butterflies erupt in my stomach every time I see him.

I sit at the back of a long class and star absentmindedly at the back of his head, as he leans over and whispers something into Black's ear. Its only week two of my first term at Hogwarts and I am already looking at him and the 'Black' boy he hangs around with. Every times he smiles, I am finding myself staring at his dimples which show up on either of his cheeks. As I sit in the boring class, I didn't know then that I was head-over-heels about him, and the reason why I said no to him was because in my mind I could make him be everything I wanted him to be- polite, courageous, smart and funny. But in reality he wasn't, he was just another cocky eleven-year-old boy who thought they were going to grow up being rich and famous. I didn't want my fantasy boy ruined by reality and that was the one and only reason I said no to him.





I watch, as if disconnected from my body as my hand swings and I slap James Potter across his cheek and as my hand collides with his flesh, there is a loud 'smack' and his head snaps to the side. He slowly looks back at me, the cheek I've just hit turning a rosy red. I am fuming and on the verge of tears.

“I will never go out with you. Even if it was between you and the giant squid!” I yelled, and I spun on my heel and storm off, racing to the safety confines of my room. I should be use to James's bullying and egotistic ways by now, we had six whole years together and I should be in love with somebody else. But I wasn't- I was always hoping that tomorrow he would change and I could at least begin to have a civilized conversation with him.

After six long years, not a single day went past that I didn't think of him. I wanted the feeling to go away, so that I could get on with my life without James Potter in the shadows, but I knew that was impossible- the heart had a mind of its own and right now, James was stabbing it a million times a day.




I scribble away on the parchment, writing notes on the Troll Rebellion of 1667, and I'm so absorbed in my writing that I don't hear the door to the Head's dorm open.

“Here.”

My head snaps up from my homework, my face splashed with blots of ink. James places a cup down onto the table I was sitting at along with a small saucer filled with cookies and cakes.

“I just thought you might be hungry,” he answers, and I watch as a soft blush creeps up his neck.

“Em, thanks,” I reply smiling, not knowing what else to say- this was the moment I had been waiting for seven years for. A polite James. He turns and begins to walk towards the stairs which led to his sleeping quarters.

“James?” I ask, seizing the moment.

“Yes?” he replies, turning back around to face me.

“Don't go to bed yet. I'm nearly finished this essay,” I reply with a sheepish smile. If James was taken-aback by my sudden change of heart, he certainly didn't show it as he nods once and walks to the sofa. I look back at the essay I had been writing for hours now, I wasn't even half-way through and I decide for once to give it up. I grin at my rebellious-side and I pick up the plate and cup before making my own way over to the sofa.





I stand on a small levitating square in front of a long mirror as a woman zips the back of my dress up and another settles my silver tiara on the top of my head. Today was the day I dreamt about since I was little and everything was going to be perfect. I was finally marrying the man I dreamt about since I was eleven [that was a secret James still didn't know anything about. But I am sure he was soon going to find out]





Harry giggles as his daddy chases him around the new house we have just bought in Godrics Hallow, cackling loudly on his toy broomstick. I pick up the camera that was lying beside and position it so it was looking in the right sport. Just as Harry passes I click the button and a second later James runs past, there is a scream of a cat and I watch the small form of Bubbles, our cat, streak up the stairs for safety. I pull out my wand and tap the tip of it against the camera, this is followed by a low hissing sound and a square picture forms on the cushion beside me.

“Who did you say gave you the broom?” James huffs as he stands in the doorway, his face a rosy pink. I smile at him

“A friend,” I reply.

We both flinch as a loud crash of china comes from the dining room.

“Oh shoot!” and James runs from view.

I smile to myself. I never got my fantasy James Potter [he seemed too much of a snob anyway]- I ended up with my James Potter... who was perfect.

"Kedavra."


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