Chapter 1 : Self-Pride, Self Indulgence, Self Glorification
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A/N: (So here's the first spinoff of The Potter Boys and the Enchantment of Redheads. Hope you enjoy it!)
I hate History of Magic. Honest to Merlin. It’s the most pointless subject in the history of wizarding existence. I don’t care about the bloody Goblin wars or how witches and wizards survived the sodding muggle witch hunt. I sincerely do not understand how I managed to earn a place in the NEWT class. Both mum and dad failed their History of Magic OWL, as did both of my brothers. In fact, my whole family doesn’t give a damn about the subject, with the exception of the educational Nazi lunatics like Molly, Lucy, Rose, and Aunt Hermione.
But I guess being a Nazi lunatic is good for some things. Rose just graduated this last year and now she’s the co-head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the ministry. The bloody bitch harps about it in her letters all the time. While she’s been engaged in her work, she’s also been skipping on cloud nine with her boyfriend of two years, Scorpius Malfoy.
I actually laugh to myself at the fact that just two years ago, when I was an epic fourteen year old beauty, I engaged in the most horrific battle with Rose for the heart of the smarmy git.
So I lost.
Well, more like gave up.
But I’m Lily Luna Potter. All of my choices are made with good reason. I do whatever I feel like doing just because I can. I know myself. My life’s philosophy is pretty straightforward.
Feed your bloody pride.
Selfish? Sure. Who gives a damn?
I like feeding my pride. I love myself no matter what I do. So even though I don’t like History of Magic, I stay in it. Why? Because it’s the perfect opportunity to redo my nails. The red is chipping off and there is nothing I hate more than chipped nails.
So what else did I learn from my violent escapade with my cousin? Quite a lot actually. I learned something quite important about myself.
I, Lily Luna Potter, don’t want a relationship. I take things as they go, but ultimately, I don’t want to be tied down. Way back when the grass was greener and the Burrow was bigger, I wanted a Prince Charming. Don’t all girls at some point? Even Lily Luna Potter is no exception to that.
But I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want a sodding relationship to change my identity. I don’t need a significant other in my life. Yes, they’re fun to snog, but blah. I’m a damn free agent.
I caught snippets of Binn’s lecture. I caught the words “goblin”, “eleventh century”, and “battle,” but the rest of it went in one ear and out the other. I was vaguely aware of my cousin Lucy violently scribbling notes. The scratching of her quill irritates me to no end.
I examined my nails to see that I missed a spot. I repainted it neatly. I love doing my nails manually. Magic takes away the laborious satisfaction of covering my cuticles with bright color.
Once I was satisfied, I whipped out my wand and cast an instant drying spell on them before examining them once again to admire the rich red color. Hmmm…very house spirity. The Gryffie Quid team will like it.
I summoned my second layer of nail polish from my bag and uncapped it, covering my newly scarlet nails with a glossy coating. I concentrated on carefully covering every millimeter of each nail.
I felt like I was being watched. I turned my head to see that Lucy was glaring menacingly at me, her eyes formed into narrow slits and her red hair falling out of her God-awful bun. I smirked at her and raised my shoulders slowly at her before continuing to recoat my nails.
That girl needs to take some calming tonic.
Finally, FINALLY the class ended. And just in time as well! My nails look absolutely gorgeous!
I smiled at my handiwork, put my nail polish bottles back in my bag and swung it over my shoulder. I walked ahead of everyone else as the mob of students exited the classroom.
That’s how I do it. Be the first one out, stare straight ahead, back upright, confident hip sway, and no eye contact. Show confidence with a little smirk on the face.
I just roll that way.
I tossed my red barrel curls behind my shoulder as I made my way down the corridor.
It was a free period now. Thank Merlin.
“You’re going to fail that class y’know,” Lucy snapped at me like an annoying screeching bat. Ugh. Why is she talking to me?
I didn’t have to look at her to know that her eyes were scrunched, her face had a blotchy red tinge to it, making her freckles blend unflatteringly, and that her hair was now a tangled mess.
So I didn’t look at her. But she kept walking with me.
“Do you want to graduate Lily? Do you even care?”
I just kept walking, occasionally glancing at my nails again. I really love the color red. I’ll paint it like this more often.
“Are you even listening to me?” She screeched unflatteringly.
“No,” I answered bluntly.
“I would appreciate it if you left.”
“Are you incoherent? Move your bloody arse, Luce,” I said nonchalantly, but with enough bite. I really don’t want to converse with her right now.
But then again, who wants to be around Lucy?
Maybe her sister Molly. But even she can’t hang around her much because Molly’s Slytherin boyfriend Thomas Wright hates Lucy. I don’t blame him.
I don’t understand how someone like me can share the same blood as someone as ghastly and irritating as Lucy Weasley.
“Stop using foul language,” she snapped.
“You haven’t heard foul language,” I responded.
“Lily, you are an arrogant tosser.”
“Oh, I’m so hurt.”
“Skinnier than you.”
“I know I am.”
“Who’s using foul language now?”
I knew I had won. I always won a fight. Usually.
The only person I had ever lost to was Rose Weasley. As irritating as it is, I now give her my respect…even if it took forever for me to accept it.
Rose defeated me two years ago, something I didn’t know she was capable of.
She physically fought me and kicked my arse twice. She won Malfoy’s heart. And she was the bigger person. She apologized and forgave me first.
She’s also better than me at Quidditch.
So what can I say? Lily Luna Potter gives respect when it’s deserved.
“Go to hell,” spat Lucy.
“I’ll bring you down with me,” I retorted, now making a sharp turn to the left. She was still trailing after me.
“Argh!” She screeched before marching ahead. I smirked as I watched her messy red bun become undone as she stomped with as much gusto as she could.
Ugh. What a bitch.
As I made my way up the marble staircase, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a small quivering first year stare up at me with her huge doe-like eyes.
“Erm…are you Miss Lily Potter?” The little girl asked in a quivering voice. I realized that she had a small roll of parchment in her hands.
“Yes,” I answered, standing up straight.
The little girl gave a small squeak of fear as she shakily handed me the parchment and sprinted off as fast as she could.
First years are so cute. It’s a shame that they’re all terrified of me.
I sighed as I unrolled the parchment. It was a note written in emerald green ink, a letter from Professor Tetra. He wants me to come to his office immediately.
I already knew why I was to make another visit to his office. The damn man should know that he’ll have to expel me before I actually listen to him. Then again, I don’t really want to be expelled because mum would kill me.
I turned around and started to make my way down the stairs to take another corridor that would lead to the headmaster’s office.
Once I reached the gargoyle, I reread the slip of parchment quickly. Scribbled at the bottom was the word treacle tart.
Hmmm, treacle tarts sound good right now.
“Treacle tart,” I announced off handedly.
The gargoyle blinked at me and seemed to sneer a bit.
“You again?” It asked with a voice full of disdain.
“Miss me, Leo?” I asked with a small smile.
I come here so often to the point where I named the gargoyle. Don’t question me.
“My name is NOT Leo.”
“Whatever you say…Leo.”
The gargoyle made a strange hissing noise of agitation before it moved aside, revealing twirling stairs. Dad always told me he came here all of the time back in the day. I wish Dumbledore was still around. From what I’ve heard from the adults of my family, he was the “shiznit.”
I blame Elaquay for putting cheesy American slang terms in Uncle Ron’s mouth.
I always see Dumbledore’s portrait smiling at me, his blue eyes twinkling merrily behind his half moon spectacles.
I climbed up the stairs, keeping my spine straight. I opened the wooden door and walked in to face a very stern looking Professor Tetra. Poor man. He looks rather irritated.
I don’t make things easy for anybody.
“Hey Tetra. What’s up?” I asked, crossing my arms and smirking.
The man was gritting his teeth. His eyes flashed as he spoke in a gravelly voice, “This is the fifth time this year, Miss Potter.”
“Sorry?” I chimed innocently, pulling the best doe-eyed expression I could.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” He snapped, slamming his fists against his desk. I realized that a vein was pulsing in his temple.
I shrugged. “Enlighten me.”
If Rose was watching this, she’d scold me. I don’t even want to think about what Molly and Lucy would say…or mum…
His eyes was twitching violently.
I let a satisfied smile creep through my smirk.
“This is your fifth dress code violation this semester Miss Potter! You know how many times I’ve warned you before!” He spat.
Okay, honestly, my dress sense wasn’t even that bad. Sure, I hiked up my skirt a bit and left a fair few buttons undone on my blouse, but that was just to expose the beauty of my womanhood! I mean, I am a woman, so why not show the goods?
I don’t wear the standard knee-high socks. I don’t wear any socks at all to be frank. Seriously, they’re bloody itchy. I settle on my red vibrant sneakers that look absolutely adorable with every outfit I own.
Hey! Back in my parent's day, they didn't even wear uniforms! They just needed to wear a robe over their clothes and that was that.
I seriously hate Tetra, sometimes.
Appearance is supposed to boost self-confidence right? I mean, we are in a social environment that promotes that sort of rubbish.
It’s called self pride, self indulgence, self glorification…I really ought to be a philosopher. Oh goodness, Lily Luna Potter – a philosopher. That just warms ever vein of my heart.
I twirled a lock of my hair and kept my smirk plastered on my face as I stood wordlessly in front of Professor Tetra.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” He demanded. Poor bloke really tries to make himself intimidating. To be quite frank, it really doesn’t work.
Intimidating is fighting with Rose Weasley, enduring mum’s screaming, or…you know…striking up conversation with me.
“What is there to say?” I asked in a light tone, now reexamining my nails. Hmm, now that I look at them, I realize that a hint of gold would look good with the red. The Gryffie Quid team would absolutely adore it!
“Miss Potter, my policy enforces that after five dress code violations, your…”
“Parents will be contacted and detention will be given, along with the added labor of Saturday morning ground duties. Yes, it’s not like I’ve heard it before,” I monotone, finishing his death sentence for me.
Honestly, I’m starting to find Tetra’s irritation rather boring.
Aunt Hermione would have a heart attack if she was witnessing this. To her, being smart with a teacher was a mortal sin.
I chanced a glance at Dumbledore’s portrait. The old man’s blue eyes twinkled at me. He winked and I found myself grinning.
Professor Tetra shot up from his seat, his face completely beet red.
He was sputtering, his spit flying everywhere, “Tomorrow, my office…six AM sharp…no exceptions!”
“Splendid!” I exclaimed with a huge smile in his direction. This infuriated him even more. I tossed my hair over my shoulder before I turned on my heel and walked back toward the wooden door to make my grand exit, leaving a spluttering and very agitated Tetra.
Honestly, Tetra is a pretty relaxed old bloke. He’s always collected and fairly easy in the disciplinary department. However, I am the only one who could really push his buttons.
Sure, he may have gotten copious amounts of headaches due to people like James, Hugo, Fred, Louis, or Elaquay, but; they all learned to keep their mouths shut during discipline.
I, on the other hand, pride myself on letting the ol’ gizzard know what I’m thinking.
He’s great fun in all honesty.
Now that that’s taken care of, I can have my Lily time. I made my way to the Gryffindor common room, reveling in the occasional glances and stares in my direction.
Oh, I love my legions of fans and admirers.
Alright. Hip sway, back straight, hair bounce. Check. Check. Check.
“Howlet’s wing,” I announced in a bold voice to the fat lady. The lady’s eyes looked me over, up and down, her expression forming a sneer.
The Fat lady never like me much. It’s not my fault that the artist decided to make her…erm…overly voluptuous.
With a final “humpf”, she swung open to reveal the portrait hole.
I stepped in to see Dom and Helena sitting on the large squashy armchairs, piles of books, parchment, and ink laying like unorganized puddles of water.
Ah, there’s my favorite cousin!
Dominique Weasley is my best friend. Honestly.
Sure, she needs to grow a backbone and stop being such a pathetic pushover, but we’re working on that.
Her long golden red hair was put up in a messy bun. Her robes looked disheveled and her usually pretty eyes looked sunken and exhausted as she scribbled furiously on a long piece of parchment.
Dominique Weasley? Studying during a free period?
What kind of heresy is this?
I will not allow it.
I sauntered over to my cousin and collapsed on her, causing her to shriek.
“Lily! Get you bloody arse off of me!”
I just smirked, “Not until you stop studying.”
She squirmed uncontrollably and managed to shove me off with a forceful push. I stumbled slightly, but I quickly recovered with a small brush of my robes.
I turned around to look at her. She looked mortified as she stared at her crumpled and smeared parchment. Slowly, she inclined her head to glare murderously at me.
“You are such a bitch, Lily! I spent all last night working on this!”
She sounded like she was about to cry. Boohoo.
“What are you Dom? A muggle? Use magic to fix it,” I responded nonchalantly, glancing at her ruined work before subconsciously raising my fingernails to admire my handiwork again.
“That’s not the point, Potter. You can’t just come in here and ruin other people’s property,” a sneering voice came from behind me.
I twirled around to see a glaring Helen Briggs. Immediate distaste and irritation flared up within me. I never liked Helen Briggs. I don’t understand how Dom could be friends with her.
Why don’t I like her, you may ask? Simply because she’s never liked me.
So whenever I’m around her, I just tend to pretend that she is nonexistent. That is unless she decides to actually talk to me.
“Erm…was I talking to you? I don’t think so,” I said in a cool tone.
Her eyes flashed dangerously and I gave her the sweetest grin that I could muster, despite gritting my teeth.
Helen slammed her book shut and jumped to her feet.
“I’ll see you around Dom,” she spat before grabbing the rest of her rubbish, stuffing it into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, and charging swiftly out of the common room.
Wow, that must’ve been a record. I don’t think I could even move that fast. Actually, I can.
“What is wrong with you?”
I twirled back around to see a very angry Dom, her cheeks going red and her eyes dark.
“Erm, what?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
She hastily pointed her wand at her parchment and siphoned off the ink smears that I caused.
As she did this, she continued with a spitting tone, “Helen’s my friend, Lily. You don’t have to be such a pretentious bitch to her all of the time.”
I rose an eyebrow at her and asked in a dangerous voice, “Excuse me?”
A flash of fear came over her face, but she maintained her angry expression.
“I think that…that you need to stop being such a bitch because you don’t own the place,” she said rather quickly, her voice surprisingly firm.
Her voice faltered, but I knew that she wasn’t finished.
I wanted to hear the rest of it.
“And?” I egged her on. This is interesting. I don’t see this side of Dom very often.
Intrigued? I guess I am.
“You’re not as confident as you make yourself out to be and you abuse the fact that you’re the daughter of the chosen one….”
Okay. Not intrigued.
Completely furious? Definitely.
Dom seemed to realize her mistake right when the words slipped out of her mouth. Her face contorted in horror as she clapped a hand over her mouth.
But it was too late.
I cannot stand it when people accuse me of being the person I am because of my parents.
It spites me to no end. And that’s an understatement.
I also have quite the temper if I may say so myself.
I immediately felt my head pound and my face flush. I hated feeling anger. Some think that I’m just generally an angry person, but I’m really not at all. I don’t like feeling worked up. The only times I’ve ever been truly angry with someone was at Rose two years ago, and at Elaquay after her drunken rendez-vous at James’s party.
Otherwise, I’m generally nonchalant. Really.
“Lily, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”
Cool down, Lily. Cool down. Dom is fragile. Dom isn’t like Rose. She can’t handle my rage. She didn’t mean it…she didn’t mean it.
“I’ll see you around,” I snapped darkly before spinning on my heel and making my way out through the portrait hole.
I ground my teeth together and found that my limbs were trembling.
Mum said that I have anger issues, but she’s just paranoid.
I don’t have anger issues.
I don’t really get angry at all. I'm just a snappy person. I pride myself in being blunt and straightforward. If I’m not feeling excellent, then I’ll let everyone know that.
But when I do get angry, there are a fair few precautions that need to be kept in mind.
For more information, just ask Rose Weasley. Contact information: unavailable. Residence: Godric’s Hollow.
Okay, all I have to do is think happy thoughts.
Lily Luna Potter always has good thoughts. That’s why I’m so good at producing patronuses.
I took a deep breath and willed my antipathy to slowly ebb away. It’s okay. I’m Lily Potter and I’m collected, blunt, nonchalant, and a class A bitch. I’m NOT insecure and I’m completely confident that I’m a beast.