Lily Potter’s Pocket Guide to Famousness
Rule Number Five
5. Pretty girls seem to get all the attention of the attractive boys.... And boys; attractive or not, are all insane.
Of course Dominique Weasley would be the one to plan a ‘spectacular 3-part birthday extravaganza’ and then reveal that one part is to see the ‘love of her life’ in concert. I wasn’t even surprised as we waited for the warm-up band to exit the stage and the roadies to set up for The Bottomless Cauldron’s performance.
I looked at her seriously, “Dom, I really bet this is a birthday present for me.”
She grinned cheekily at me, “It’s a present for me too… And besides, you know as well as I do that they’re a great band.
I rolled my eyes, “Fine,” I said, “knowing me and my brilliant taste in music, I do like them.”
“And,” Dom added to my sentence, “They’re all really really attractive.”
I just shook my head. She was hopeless.
Ten minutes later, the lights around us dimmed and everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the first blast of harmonious sound.
I kept a hand on Dom’s arm precautionary as she attempted to convince Nate Hoffman to, instead of signing a piece of paper or a picture, sign the ass of her jeans.
Nate looked bewildered, his eyes wide and a little unsure of what to do.
I pulled her away from him. “I’m really sorry for that.” I said, throwing Dom a dirty look as she pouted at me. “She’s insane, pretty much obsessed with you.”
Nate looked at me with his amazing blue eyes. “And what about you?”
I laughed, “What about me?”
“She’s obsessed, everyone else here is obsessed, what about you?”
I grinned at him, “And what’s that supposed to mean?” I said, not being able to help the slightly flirty way the words came out of my mouth. “I am above such things as becoming star-struck in the presence of someone as chauvinistically arrogant as you.”
He chuckled, the laughter reaching his blue eyes; he seemed to take my words as some sort of challenge. Nate scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
“I’m going to have to change that, aren’t I?”
I rolled my eyes but smiled and took the paper. I couldn’t help it if I was secretly turned on by his egotistical attitude. “You can try.” I said, walking away from him and pulling my cousin with me.
I lounged on the bench in one of the compartments on the Hogwarts Express, a straw fedora on my head, aviators shielding my icy blue eyes and a copy of the latest edition of Teen Witch in my hands.
The compartment door slid open and I looked up to find my brother standing there with an amused grin across his face.
“What are you doing?” James asked, sitting down on the opposite bench and making himself comfortable.
I rolled my eyes, “Obviously, I am reading an article out of a magazine. Actually,” I said laughing, “It’s a rather interesting exposé about my sexual relationship with Nate Hoffman.” I directed the magazine towards James to show him the collage of reader-donated pictures of the two of us conversing after the concert in Paris. The biggest one, in the center, was of the moment he handed me a slip of paper with his number on it. I hadn’t realized at the time how close he had been to me.
I honestly found it comical how serious the article was, the magazine commented on how recently; the rock icon had cooled it when it came to girls, and it was obvious there was someone. But, whether there was someone or not, I didn’t know. All I knew was that it wasn’t me.
“Sexual relationship,” James commented, “If I found out my little sister was having some sort of sexual relationship with anyone, I’d have to kill him.”
I rolled my eyes again, typical of my older brother to be that protective of me, especially since he made it sound like he was joking, but really, I knew he wasn’t.
I looked back at the magazine page and pulled off my glasses. “I’ll bet you ten galleons Dom will blow her top,” I laughed, “she believes literally everything she reads about this Nate Hoffman character, wouldn’t surprise me if she was waiting on the train station platform in Hogsmeade, just to kill me with her bare hands.”
James shook his head, “I wouldn’t joke about these things,” he said, a broad smile across his handsome potter features.
I nodded, no matter how much he was joking, he was completely right. Dom was my best friend; it made me sad, thinking that she would be mad about something the papers had totally made up.
“Hey,” I said suddenly, sitting up, “Do you think you could just hang out in here for about ten minutes?”
James looked taken aback, “For what?”
“I have to go to the loo, and if I just left my empty compartment alone, I have a feeling it won’t be empty when I came back.” I grinned angelically at my brother.
He rolled his eyes but motioned for me to go ahead. I slid open the compartment door and looked at my brother again, “Thanks James,” I said sweetly, smiling my signature innocent-little-sister-slash-sweet-little-precious-angel smile at him before walking away.
The corridor was empty; I suspected that everyone was changing into their uniforms, preparing for us to pull in at the train station very soon. I absolutely hated our uniforms. They were awful. My aunts and uncles always said their dress code was bad, but they only had to wear robes over their other clothes. Not only had the use of robes by students been practically abolished, but we had the most harshest dress code in the world. For girls, we had to wear skirts; there was no option about it. And we either had to wear sheer or white stockings. The heel on our shoes had to be less than two inches and they had to have a strap on the back. We had to wear a plain white button up, a stupid sweater vest, and—of all things—one of those pointless little ‘women’s bow-ties,’ the little droopy ones. To top it all off, we had these very lovely blazers that I would never wear in my life.
It wasn’t just the stuff we had to wear that got me, it was that there were so many rules telling us how to wear it that it was impossible to find a loophole. The cuff of our blazer had to be exactly in lime with our wrist, our skirts couldn’t be any shorter than three inches below our fingertips when we put out hands to our sides. There was even a rule that said that we couldn’t have pleats in our skirts. Our hair had to be away from our faces, but; god forbid, we have any type of distracting hair clips. And if our clothes weren’t in line with the dress code, it was detention. It was like we attended school at a prison or something.
I’m just wondering… why does this sort of thing always happen to me? Here I was; standing on the train platform in Hogsmeade, in the snow, freezing my ass off, like I normally would be at this time of year. I was even wearing my penitentiary uniform. But of course, this year had to be different, because, when I stepped off the train, I found that I was practically being stalked.
Nate fucking Hoffman was standing there, as bold as brass, waiting for what I suspected was that little sixteen year old redhead he was supposedly shagging. Yeah, this is going to dismiss all suspicions.
I grabbed my little caged pigmy puff from the mass of pet animals in cages and watched as he determinedly walked towards me, an almost amused smile across his face.
I took a minute to assess the situation before deciding that if he followed me to Hogwarts, I should probably talk to him, convince him to STOP FOLLOWING ME!—even though this probably was actually the first time he had followed me.
“Lily Potter,” he said as he neared me.
I looked at him expectantly.
“How are you?” he asked.
I laughed, “You followed me to ask how I’ve been… Yeah, that makes sense to me. Are you, like, stalking me?”
“Nah, if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up about that.”
“So why are you here?”
“You never called me.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” I said, smiling, inattentively twirling one of my locks of red hair around my finger.
“Oh no;” Nate said nodding, “I couldn’t have guessed that,” he said sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes and put my hands on my hips, “So why are—”
He cut me off as I tried to ask for a third time as to why he was here, moving closer to me.
“I was thinking, you know, since everyone thinks were shagging, we should… I dunno, hang out or something,” he discretely moved one of his calloused, hands on my hip, and gazed unblinkingly into my eyes. Our faces were definitely a million times closer than they should have been, and continued, “Maybe that something will lead to us just proving a fact.”
I let out a slow breath, right now, I felt like I should want to laugh or walk away angrily with a nice swing in my hips that had a chance of making him jealous. But there was something else, some feeling I associated with meeting cute flirty boys in Diagon Alley. I looked him over. Dom was completely sane in thinking that he was attractive, his dark features were entrancing. I smiled to myself, admiring his short dark brown hair, golden eyes, sharp jaw… the curve of his lips…
I felt a heavy arm land on my shoulders, pulling me out of my private thoughts.
“Dude,” the arm said, “I see you’ve found my girl.”
God damn the timing Scorpius fucking Malfoy seemed to have going for him.
I looked at that blonde seventeen year old, one eyebrow popped, and my mouth slightly open. “I am not your girl,” I said, incredulous that he would say anything along those lines—as I’ve said, Scorpius Malfoy did not do well in relationships.
“Lily, I need to talk to you,” he said seriously.
I wrinkled my nose, he smelled like rum and weed.
“Maybe not…” I said, ducking out from under his arm.
Scorpius rubbed at his face, “You don’t understand,” he said frustratedly, “I messed up… What happened…. I don’t like the way things are.”
I squinted at him harshly, the same squint I used to scare my brothers, “I don’t understand… what…” I didn’t know what to say. This might as well have been freak out Lily Potter day; what with Nate Hoffman just deciding to show up here to talk me into having sex with him pretty much, and Scorpius Malfoy wants to talk about ‘us.’
Scorpius put a hand on my shoulder, “Lily,” he whispered, like my name was something precious, “Lily, just five minutes.”
I looked back at Nate, who looked a little confused, and maybe a little angry, and then I looked back at Scorpius, who looked almost pathetically serious.
“Scorpius,” I said sternly, “You’re drunk. I absolutely refuse to have any type of conversation with you in this state. I wouldn’t even want to talk about this if you were sober.”
“Hey…” Nate said, “I’m sorry… I uh…”
I smiled, “call me… or write; I’ll be waiting.”
Nate nodded, chuckling to himself a little…. “Don’t worry, I won’t be giving up.” He walked away, a little swagger in his step.
I unwillingly turned back to Scorpius…. I hate drunk people.
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