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I am NOT Lily Evans! by Luckygurl102
Chapter 2 : Phantasmagoria
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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Author’s Note: I have fun writing this chapter! I hardly give it any thought and just let my fingers fly through it! So if it seems out of sorts, that’s purely intentional and just to elaborate on the insanity that is the human subconscious. So I point out, again, that I own nothing you recognize and Emmery’s dream sequences are purely fun and to demonstrate the craziness that is her subconscious and mind. Also, to make a point that will be part of chapter three, when she *gasps* wakes up in Hogwarts. So, that being said, on to the story! Also, I don’t own the Kill Bill movies!


N- 2.  An ever-changing scene: a scene or view that encompasses many things and changes constantly.

“What do you mean I’m not tall enough?” I shrieked at the lady with the measuring stick. “I’ve been riding this rollercoaster since it is built! I’m more than tall enough!” The lady is getting anxious and the line of people behind me where starting to say some very impolite tings. I don’t care. I just want to ride the stupid roller coaster and the lady with the stick is being very rude about it.

“Look, kid, you just have to go wait while you’re party rides. You’re holding up the line.” The lady all but shoves me out of the way and pointed the next three people to their row. This isn’t right! Every time we come here, I always ride! How can I be too short all of a sudden? I haven’t grown since the eighth grade and I rode it then!

“We don’t have to ride, Em.” Amy called out from her seat. I shake my head. “No, that’s fine. I’ll just wait.” I say and turn to walk to the room where the families with smaller children sit while everyone else has fun on the ride. I know I am not exactly tall, but five foot three is a pretty regular height. I huff as I open the door.

A bright light blinded me and I stumble back. I have to shield my eyes with my hand while I wait for my eyes to adjust. “You’re late!” I hear a very shrill and annoying voice call out. This is getting weird. I am in an auditorium, on a stage, and surrounded by a few of my classmates. I see Amy wave me over so I went and take the empty seat next to her at the table. There are at least a few hundred people in the audience. “Where have you been?” The same shrill voice snap and I turn my head so fast I nearly got whiplash.


The voice belonged to my sixth grade teacher. I scrunched my face in confusion. “They won’t let me on the ride.” I answer, unsure exactly how my teacher, Mr. Havre will take this new. It is the only answer I could come up with and Mr. Havre never takes half-ass answers lightly.


As I suspected, he frowns and shake his head. He looks rather manic right now and I couldn’t help but wonder if he is on some sort of drugs. “No, no, no! That won’t suffice! Miss Mac you are late! Why are you late?” He asks me. His face looks crazed and I look around. Everyone is staring at me expectantly and I try to sink back into my seat. This type of scrutiny is very uncomfortable and I have no idea what the answer is.


“I don’t know!” I whisper, feeling the heat of two-hundred some odd people staring at me. Mr. Havre quickly shakes his head again and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “No, no, no! You do know! Doesn’t be so stupid! You‘re late! You‘ve been late for a long time! How can you be so late?” He shouts as he spins around. He stalked off to the podium on center stage and spoke to the audience. I watched the back of his head, confused. I couldn’t hear any of the words he is saying, but the people in the audience are nodding their heads, laughing, and shouting agreement. Whatever Mr. Havre say, it doesn’t sound good for my predicament.


“Amy, what’s going on?” I turn and whispers to her but she shushed me and smacked my hand away. “Doesn’t! We could get in trouble! We’re not allowed to talk to each other. I’m not supposed to be here, you’re not supposed to be here! They might find out!” Amy whispers so quietly I almost don’t hear her. I shake my head. None of this is making any sense.


“Amy, you’re being silly. What won’t they-” But she cut me off with a look. The look on her face is pleading and it reminded me of when we are ten and Amy runs to my house in the middle of the night crying. It is the day her dad left them and I will never forget the broken look on her face. I turn my head away from her, feeling very much like a child who received the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ look.


Mr. Havre turns back to me and I gulped. “Now, you’re final chance before extraction.” Extraction? What the hell is he talking about? That does it; he is out of his mind! He fixed me with a calculating look before asking his question. “Tell me, why are you so late? What have you been doing that take up so much of your time? Why is it you refused to come?” I blinked at him once…twice…four times. What is going on? How the hell am I supposed to answer asinine questions like that?


“Uhm… I got lost?” I answer, hoping that this ’extraction’ thing won’t be painful or any more ridiculous than what I am going through at the moment. I hear a loud buzzer go off and a booming voice across the room yell “EPIC FAIL!” and everyone gasped. Clearly that is not the right answer and I am about to be ‘extracted’. I gulped nervously again. This will not end well.


“Emmery Maeve Mac you have failed. You will now be EXTRACTED!” Mr. Havre’s voice is not his normal one. It is loud and almost demonic sounding as he yells at me. He pulls a remote and presses a button.


A loud bang rang throughout the hall and I feel myself falling. There is nothing but darkness as I fall. I flailed my limbs miserably as I try to grab hold to something. It is useless as there is nothing around me. 



I continue to fall. For how long? I’m not sure. The feeling in my gut never went away and I just fall into the dark abyss. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes, so I assumed I am dying, at least not yet. It is getting boring, falling. I stop creaming after a minute. It is weird, though not any more strange than before. 


Falling actually isn’t that bad. It is almost fun. I always want to go skydiving, so I imagine that it’s a lot like this actually.


It is then I landed in what looks like the same room I fall asleep in: my room. I sigh with relief. It is only a dream. I sit up and look around. It is my room, but things are different: Amy is no longer with me, the TV is now blank and the Xbox360 off. I pull the blankets back and stand. Something strange is going on and it is probably even stranger than what happened earlier. I turn and shrieked as I see my reflection in the floor length mirror in the corner of my room. I run to it. This isn’t right. I still look like myself, but little things are different. For one, my C cups are totally B cups! I frown; I like my body just the way it is before! And I have to at least be a buck twenty now, not my healthy 130-135lbs. I examined my face and my frown increased. My nose has light freckles. I sometimes do have freckles, but only in the summer! Not the middle of fall! I run a hand through my hair. It is the same length (wavy down to my elbows) but it is different. I dye my hair (a lot) and have probably been blonde, brunette, and redhead at least a dozen different shades and times. I almost went black, but that’s because I leave the mahogany coloured dye in too long and it is nearly black for a few days. It is still really pretty. Anyway, my hair isn’t the dark auburn like it is before, but instead a light, almost copper, red. I frown. I am nearly a ginger! And then I shrieked again. My eyes! My beautiful amber eyes are green! Common and indifferent green! I could cry. My eyes are my favourite thing about me, my hair being the next. I am not a drama queen! I mean, you don’t just wake up looking like your doppelganger with slightly different features!


I backed away from the mirror. This isn’t right. It is just a dream. A stupid, irrational dream. There is no way I could just wake up looking like someone else. It is impossible. I went back to my bed and lay down. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before I pinched myself. It hurt.


This has to be good. I am awake. I got up and went to the mirror again. I frown again. This foreign person is still there. I examined my face closely. I look the exact same (except the freckles and eyes) and my hair isn’t that different. My body is similar to mine (except my boobs- I miss my boobs). I look at the new green eyes again. They aren’t too bad. Of course, they aren’t my gorgeous amber ones, but they are pretty. Emeralds are my favourite stone, so I guess (if this isn’t a dream) I could handle having green eyes. The boobs, however, are a problem. I don’t understand why I will dream looking different. Sure, I have my insecurities just like every other teenage girl, but I am almost always happy with my appearance. So if my subconscious is trying to tell me something it is completely lost on me. I mean, I’ve always thought my eyes are unique or at least something, that make me beautiful. And sure, I dyed my hair a lot, but not because I hate it! I just need to mix it up sometimes. And as for me dropping ten or fifteen pounds, I don’t know. I used to be very insecure about my weight, but not anorexic or anything. I’d mope, whine, and then see fat people who I look better than and feel better. Conceited? Maybe but that’s how I am. Sometimes you realize you’re not as bad off as you think, and someone’s always better/worse off than you so just stick that in your juice box and suck on it.


I sit back on my bed, my head swimming with vertigo and a pounding begins to course through my skull. I closed my eyes, massaging my temples and willing the headache that is forming to just die. I open my eyes and my vision begins swimming so I lay back down and closed my eyes. Vertigo is something I’d always has a problem with, but it’s been a long time since it really acted up. Trying to even out my breathing and not start having an anxiety attack or something. I try to convince myself I am dreaming again, as that is the only possible explanation for what is going on. I may be slightly dramatic and crazy at times, but there is no way I am hallucinating or having some sort of mental breakdown… Right? It’s my senior year in high school, I’ve only got one more year left and then I’m finally able to pursue what I actually want to. Why on Earth will I be having a breakdown when I am happy with my life at the moment?


I am happy… AM happy. My life is perfect… Okay, not perfect but definitely pretty damn good at the moment. So nothing is wrong with me, this is all just one big, stupid dream that is brought on by my insane diet of pickles (anything with vinegar really), chocolate, and anything that has way too much sodium (I’m sorry, future body, but I will probably has high blood pressure when I’m older), and insane amounts of water. Yes, that is it. Just one weird dream due to my insane diet. No way is any of this real, it couldn’t be.


Now fully calmed down, I smile to myself, chuckling at how silly the dream is and how stupid I am for even thinking for a second that it is real. I pull back my blankets and got comfortable in my bed. My body is exhausted due to the total state of panic I am in earlier. Still lightly laughing, I wrapped myself in a cocoon of my blankets. I sigh as I feel the total comfort and security that always came with being snuggled in my bed. 


I almost completely asleep when I hear a strange voice say something. “Lily! She’s passing out! Moony, go get Dumbledore! We’ll go meet you in the Hospital Wing!” That’s funny, I must be hallucinating again. Damn Amy and her desire to watch the Harry Potter movies and cause my subconscious to hallucinate about the characters. It even feels like someone is carrying me, even weirder. Knowing it is probably a dream, I don’t worry about it. Besides, this guy (I know- or hoped- from the voice) that is carrying me is totally strong and even smelled good. Hooray for vivid dreams! 


It isn’t until I feel myself being lowered into another bed that I hear voices again. “Professor, I don’t know what happened! One minute we’re discussing Head duties and the next she’s talking nonsense and then she passed out.” A much panicked voice says. It is the first voice that spoke. He sounds very concerned. Poor guy, this is obviously a Dream James, as he’s the only one who’s obsessed with Lily. Oh no! I dreamed that they’re Heads. How original, right? I mean, I should be dreaming Peter as Head Boy, not THAT is totally unexpected, right.


“Mr. Potter, I appreciate you bringing Ms. Evans to the Hospital Wing, however, Madame Pomfrey needs space to work.” Dream Dumbledore say. I mean, it has to be him; his voice is totally ancient British.


I hear a shuffling a feet and then feel something jab me a few times. I open my mouth to tell the crazy healer that I feel that but found my mouth couldn’t move. Now slightly panicked, I try to open my eyes- it doesn’t work


Okay, bad dream. I am stuck as (and I’m totally assuming this because of the previous dream sequences) a very unconscious Lily Evans. This is not how the usual Harry Potter dreams went, and it is bugging me that I won’t- or couldn’t- even enjoy it!


After about forever (or two seconds in Dream World because I learned in Health that you dream like ever seven seconds even though the dreams feel longer), I hear Dream Madame Pomfrey tell someone that I am just “sleeping”, but the way she says sleeping feel very ominous and not like “oh she’s just tired” kind of sleeping. Now panicking (even if this is only a dream, I don’t want to be stuck asleep! I mean, who sleeps in a dream?), I try to open my eyes. Again, it doesn’t work.


I hear hushed voices in the background and I strained to hear them. No use, Dream Lily’s body is completely out. It is one of my worst fears, being trapped in my mind and having no way of communicating with everyone else. 


Trying to calm myself, I focused on moving something, anything, on Dream Lily’s body. Like in Kill Bill, how she is sitting in the truck for hours trying to un-paralyze her body. Yeah, I know it’s a movie but what else could I do?


I hear footsteps come and go and feel panic arise once more. Are they going to leave me alone? How long will I be stuck in this dream? Why am I even stuck in this dream?


“I don’t understand. What do they mean she’s just sleeping? You can wake people up if they’re sleeping!” Dream James say. He sounds just as panicked as I do, probably because his future wife and mother of his future child are currently unconscious. I mean, how is he supposed to woo her (or… me?) if she (or I?) isn’t awake?


“Not only that, but do you hear the way Pomfrey say sleeping? It doesn’t just sound like Evans is just taking a nap.” Another male voice says. This one is deeper, more rugged sounding and I could only guess he is Dream Sirius.


“Padfoot’s right, I don’t like the way she’s eerily calm about it. You’re not supposed to be calm after your Head Girl just passes out for no apparent reason.” Another male voice squeaked out. I could practically hear the uncertainty in his voice and I guess him to be Dream Peter. I have to remind myself that he hasn’t betrayed James and Lily (or… me? This is getting confusing, even in my head) yet. 


“I think there is a reason.” I head another voice (Dream Remus obviously) say. The others must look confused because Dream Remus continues with an explanation. “Dumbledore seemed to look like he knows what is going on. I hear him tell Madame Pomfrey that this isn’t how he expected it to happen.” 


The other guys are voicing my thoughts now. “Expect what?” “What does that even mean?” “Bloody hell; is there anything Dumbledore doesn’t know?”


I am calm now. I mean, sure I am stuck in Dream World, in a Harry Potter dream no less, and I am Lily Evans who is going to marry James Potter and has Harry Potter. Then I’d be killed when Voldemort learns about the prophecy and Snape will sob over my dead body (very creepy now that I think about it) and Harry will grow up being terrorized by Voldemort until he finally kills him when he finishes getting rid of the Horcruxes. 


That’s just great. I mean fan-fucking-tastic. Of course, I’d be stuck as the character that dies, I mean, who else will I be? My Dream World involves my untimely death at age twenty-one. Woo-hoo! Four more years! Not. At least this is a dream, I mean, if I only has four years left, I don’t know what I will do. I’d probably spend the first day crying, that I do know.


Sometimes must has past while I am musing about my imminent doom (in Dream World, that is) because I no longer feel the presence of the four dream guys. It feel like there is only one other person in the room (four guesses who) and I wished I could wake up.


“I just don’t get it.” I hear Dream James whisper. He is obviously as confused as I am.


I decide to get over this dream. I mean, it is fun while it lasted (or not) and I decide it is way past time to get up. Okay, I can do this. I do it earlier.


If I went back to sleep, I should wake up in the real world, right? Right. I concentrated on clearing my mind and slowly I feel myself falling asleep. Relief flooded through me, hoping the next time I will wake I’d be in my own bed.


When I finally do away, my vision is blurry. I yawned, feeling my arms stretch out. I grin and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It feels good to move my body again. Dreaming about being trapped in your mind isn’t as the top of my favourite things to do list. 


My eyes finally adjusted to the lighting and I feel myself being crushed by a hug. Amy is weird in the mornings, but never this weird. “Amy, get off me.” I mumble into her. Except, it doesn’t feel like Amy. This person is bigger, stronger, and smelt amazing. This is a guy!


Now panicking, I move to shove this person off me but my upper-body strength is inexistent. “Evans! You’re awake.” No, no, no, no! I am dreaming again!


“Get off!” I manage to shout and Dream James nearly jumps up. “You’re talking! You’re yelling! Oh Evans!” I thought he is going to hug me again but he just grins stupidly at me.


“Guys! She’s awake!” He screamed and my head pounded. I groan, massaging my head. “Merlin, Lily I’m so sorry. I’m just excited you’re finally awake!” Clearly, you stupid moron.


“Bloody hell.” I mutter. Wait; do I really just say that? Oh no, I’m not Lily Evans! It’s just because Dream James is talking in a British accent that I won’t help but think British. Yeah, that’s right.


I hear people walk over and see Dream Madame Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and two other girls. You know, it is never really specified who Lily is friends with (girl wise) at Hogwarts. 


Dream Pomfrey is waving her wand over me, checking my vitals I guess. She nods to herself. “She’s stable, Albus, but I’d like to keep her another night to make sure.” The Dream Wizard nods and she leaves to go get potions, I guess.


“Ms. Evans, do you know where you are?” Dream Dumbledore ask me in a calm voice. I roll my eyes. My subconscious is so stupid.


“Yeah, it a stupid dream.” I mutter, crossing my arms and huffing. This whole inability to wake up is seriously starting to aggravate me.


The Dream Marauders are looking at me, confused and possibly worried (or in Dream James’ case, freaked). “My dear, you say you think you’re in a dream?” Dream Dumbledore repeated my statement and I nod.


“Well duh, none of this is real. I’m dreaming about my favourite book series, and it’s a seriously lame-ass dream.” I say, except my voice is sounding a bit different. Ass sounds like arse (like British!) and I have an accent…A British accent. This isn’t happening; this couldn’t be happening! “I’m Emmery Maeve Mac, and I’m dreaming.” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes and willing with all my might that I will wake up at home and hear Amy snoring next to me.  When I open my eyes, I groan. No! No! No! Not possible. I am dreaming! This is all a bizarre dream and I will soon wake up when Amy wants to do something.


Dream Dumbledore is now smiling and it is pissing me off. I open my mouth to snap at him but he cut me off. “I’m afraid that is no longer true. You are Lily Evans, Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” His voice is still calm and I hate him for it because this is not real! Magic is not real! So how come Albus-too-many-middle-names-Dumbledore is staring at me with those twinkling blue eyes? This isn't possible. “No, I’m Emmery.” I whisper more to myself, ignoring the stares of the dream people around me. “I am NOT Lily Evans!” I closed my eyes, fighting the burning sensation of coming tears.

Author's Note: So what do you think? Stupid? Nonsense? Completely awesome? I'd like to hear your thoughts! Chapter Three will involve Dumbledore (who has some serious explaining to do once Emmery gets over the whole magic is real thing- because it is in my story).


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