Chapter 1 : Socially Awkward? I Beg To Differ.
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You've got to be joking right!
Or it was a mistake.
No-one in their right mind would make me a Head Girl. Admittedly Dumbledore has never shown signs of being the sanest person alive but still, a Head teacher should have more sense.
Lily Evans, Head Girl. No see, that doesn't sound right.
Who would make me Head Girl? It's seriously crazy. I can't talk to big groups. I think it might be a disease. I go all sweaty and shaky and jittery. I can really only talk to fellow Gryffindors. Who are in my year. So basically my friends. I'm actually a rubbish Prefect, because I never have the guts to tell people off, or to give them detention.
Is it punishment for not dolling out detentions?
No, it must be a mistake. Another owl will arrive any second, asking for it back, saying they accidently put the wrong name on it. Of course. I've already put the badge and letter back in the envelope.
I go and sit beside my bedroom window, staring out across the small seaside village, looking for any sign of an owl heading this way.
All I can see are the bloody stupid seagulls, screeching and wheeling around in the air, diving at the poor people who thought it would be a good idea to throw a chip for one of them. Idiots. They don't realise that these gulls are devil birds, and will never leave them now. They are probably tourists.
I sit by the window for some time, but no reassuring shape of a steady owl appears and I'm forced to face the rather ugly facts.
I'm actually Head Girl.
By some freak twist of fate, I have to wear this big, badge that shouts - look at me, stare at me everybody notice me! For me this is unacceptable. Completely and utterly unacceptable.
My friends say that I'm extremely socially awkward. I beg to differ.
I'm just...shy. Yeah shy. Ish. Not in front of my friends of course but people who are in other houses or other years.
Especially ones of the male population.
Oh god , at least half of the prefects are male.
The Head Boy.
I'm kind of screwed.
He's gonna be male.
Do you think I could write to the teachers and ask for a Non Boy Head Boy?
Would they allow it, do you think?
God, why does my life have to be so rubbish sometimes. First Tuney, then Severus now this?
I awkwardly pull out the big red badge and place it on my bedside table.
God it looks so big.
If my luck is in ( which it rarely ever is) Remus will be Head Boy. I can talk to him. When the others aren't there at least.
I stand up and brush the slight dust off my clothes. My house is really old and creaky and the plaster is falling away in places and I tend to have to dust my room a few times a week. You should see it after the whole year away.
I pad slowly down the stairs and head towards the kitchen. I step through the doorway, tugging at my own mess of flaming ginger hair. It's unfair that Tuney gets perfect blondeness and I get random curly redness. Like I said I have bad luck. I gaze into the mirror that hangs on the wall above the oven. Big red hair, falling out of a pathetic excuse for a ponytail. And, oh yes, a small stain on my hoodie. Real Head Girl material.
"Hey there petal, tea will be ready soon. Why the long face?" my mum chortles, patting my head as she passes, cheerful as ever. I honestly don't think I've ever seen her look sad.
Mum doesn't have ginger hair. She's blonde. Perfect golden blonde. Virtually an old Petunia, except without the whining. Except when Dad pretends he can sing. Then they both really get going.
"Life is just, completely unfair" I sigh, trailing after her and nicking a strawberry, avoiding my mum's gentle slap of the hand.
"What's happened now?" she asks, moving the fruit out of my way.
"Well my hair's doing this thing, I've lost my favourite top and I've been made Head Girl," I mumble quickly.
Nothing. She just continues chopping, like nothing has happened.
"Head Girl Mum? Anything?"
"I know Lily," my mum smiles, and grasps my shoulders. Probably staining my hoodie even more, this time with strawberry juice.
"How do you know?"
Here she looks slightly guilty, as she admits, "I read your letter beforehand. We always do that with Hogwarts letters. Haven't you noticed? That's why they are always up in your room, arriving when you were eating or on the toilet. I'm really surprised you've never noticed before."
"You've been reading my letters?"
"Just the Hogwarts ones."
"Oh," so this is slightly weird," Okay"
"We are really proud of you Lily," Mum hugs me tight, smiling into my shoulder(she's tiny).
"Proud of me?" I pull away, raising my eyebrows," I'm going to be the worst Head Girl ever. Do you understand how many meetings and big important councils there will be in the next year?"
Mum smiles softly again, and goes back to her chopping. "I don't understand what your problem is Lily. I know you claim to be a bad public speaker" - that's an understatement- "but your fine around here. And as for your apparent problem with guys well, you were fine with that nice Snape boy!"
She points her knife and me and gives a small disapproving look. See, mum doesn't believe me when I say that I can't do the speaking thing. She says it's all in my head. She is a very frequent psychic babbler. Going on about the mysteries of the world. All from a book of course. But she basically preaches that, I'm apparently a confident, worldly woman. (In her dreams)
She also really liked Severus. Said he was a "nice chap, with a quiet aura about him." Her words not mine. She was incredibly disappointed when we, ahem, fell out. Claimed I was an idiot, and that I should apologise. She actually wanted me to prance over there and give him a hug and an "I'm sorry" cake. I obviously didn't tell her what really happened, but it's nice to know your mother assumes it's always your fault.
She also complains that I didn't have more male friends. Apparently, when she was my age (a long time ago) she had a lot of friends, some male. Well I'm sorry that she was Mrs Popular, while one of her daughters is a serial elephant lover, and the other has a problem saying two words to the opposite sex.
"Mum can we please not start on that now," I mutter, as she starts to take off her frilly housewife apron.
"Fine, fine", she holds up her hands in a gesture that usually means "Okay" but in her case means "We'll talk later".
Just then my Dad manages to wander in, with his impeccable timing as usual. His glasses are falling off his crooked nose (broken in a bar fight a good 30 years back) and he has a battered, old book in his hand, like usual.
"Rob," My mum says, leaning against the cabinet, " Lily, has, ahem, come down to tell us about Head Girl."
"Oh, right yes, " he mutters blearily, and pulls me to him, enveloping me in a big hug, so all I can smell is old paper and the musky smell that is my dad, " Well done sweetheart. It was all her idea with the letters," he adds, in a whisper in my ear.
I smiled into my dad's chest and patted him on the back. I have always somehow seemed closer with my father, more than my mother. Or I had. In the last few years we seemed to have grown further and further apart. But we can still manage a few jokes, mostly at the expense of mother.
It's most likely I got my socially unadept thing from my father. he hates parties or gatherings of any sort, and when mother has guests, he tends to hide out in his study, like an old, grumpy spinster. Sometimes I think he prefers characters in books to real people. When I was accepted into Hogwarts, it was like a dream turned into reality, a life directly out of some of his favourite books.
"We'll buy you something nice dear, maybe a pretty dress to bring out the colour in you cheeks, " Mum says softly, pinching my cheeks for emphasis, "We can go shopping tomorrow, yes?"
I nod slowly, and finally notice all the food scattered around the kitchen, in a way which very much looks like an important dinner was on the very near horizon.
"What's all this for?"
"Oh," Mum beams, " Vernon, Vernon Dursley, is coming round for tea, so I'm cooking up something special. You know Vernon, Petunia's darling boyfriend? Anyway, It's going to be a big thing, so dress up for me will you? And, maybe not mention the whole, magic thing today, since he doesn't know. Is that okay dear?"
Oh I know Vernon alright. But I can't say no so instead I force a realistic grin onto my face before heading out of the door, not missing the sympathetic smile that comes from my father's direction as I pass.
I hurry up to my room, passing Petunia's on the way and almost choking on the sickly sweet smell of too many perfumes mixed together at once, which is practically pouring out of it. I snatch some spare, slightly scrunched parchment, smoothing it out as best as I can, and quickly scribble down to letters for my friends Ellie and Zoe. I give my owl Beth a big heave out of my bedroom window, struggling to get her lazy behind out, and scramble to my bathroom, getting a good look in the slightly dirty mirror. My hair looks worse up in my room, so I splash water on my face to distract me. With a final sigh I grip the edge of the sink, and stare into the eyes of my reflection, water dripping off my face.
I may just have to deal with the Head girl situation. I can't refuse, too many people would kill me, and I suppose it does mean something to me. The me who was deathly excited about getting Prefect, who was buried under the stress of exams, friendships and life in general. That me used to fight back, who was cheekier (to some) and very much more aggressive.
Now I guess I'm just that random nerd who sits around hating everything and everyone.
That may have to change.
Taking a deep breath I dry my face with a soft white towel, and block out the faint noises coming from the kitchen. It clears my head, allowing me to address the looming problem that has now arisen.
Dressy. She wants me to dress up, fancy, for a tea. This is new, very new. Another change this Vernon guy is bringing, and I dislike change.
I don't do dressy.
Sure I have one or two dresses. Well two dresses, both used for parties in bygone days, both too small. I haven't wore a dress in ooh, what, maybe 3 years. And suddenly, out of the blue I have to dress up for dinner, and tomorrow we are going dress shopping. These types of things don't happen to me.
I am far comfier in jeans and a sweater, much to my mother and sisters dismay. Not that Petunia cares anymore, but still. I particularly favour baggy jeans, and chinos. Skirts are quite scarce and as for low cut tops? Well, to be honest, you kind of need a chest for that. Any sort of a chest would be nice. Sometimes I look down and wonder, what is happening here? Mother claims I am a late bloomer. Petunia was, if I'm honest, but it only makes it more obvious when I'm standing next to my best friend, who probably has the biggest chest in the year. So now you see why I like baggy sweaters.
Another problem is that some of my clothes are packed, in a half hearted attempt to be prepared in any way, even though I haven't got my books yet anyway. If I hadn't made the attempt, my mum would have, and that would have been a disaster.
Somehow, by some miracle, there is a skirt at the back of my wardrobe, which seems perfect for the occasion. Not too partyish, quite modest, perfect for a simple tea. It is quite a boring pale teal colour, and hangs slightly awkwardly, and there is that small rip at the bottom, but it's the best I can do at short notice. I find a simple white blouse to tuck into it, as it is high waisted, and lace up the top of the blouse.
On the whole, it's not a patch on Petunia's complicated ruffled, cocktail dresses, and gives of a slightly peasant girl feel, but it doesn't clash with my hair at least. The skirt reaches my knees, and my legs are surprisingly longer than I thought they were, which is a plus. A pair of black, shiny pumps gleam at my from my floor, so I slip my feet into them and face an even bigger problem. My hair.
Locating the exact position of the bobble is a task, and then comes the arduous journey of wriggling my hair out of it. When it's finally all free, and resembling a bush, I take a big brush and half heartedly attack it, until it resembles something vaguely human. Then it's back up in the ponytail, just neater and less bushy.
I never get good hair days.
I hear the high pitched voice of my mother calling me, and bite my lip at my disgruntled reflection, before beginning to plod downstairs, stopping only when I realise Petunia is waiting for me at the bottom.
She looks like a perfect princess, with a beautiful blonde bob, slightly curled, perfect make-up and a fancy white dress with red spots, a halter neck and puffy underskirt. She acts like she is a full grown adult, but she is only a couple of years older than me.
I stop in front of her, unsure whether to push past or say excuse me. I'm always trying to be polite.
"Lily," she says, her gaze cold, "Before we go in there are a few things I need to say."
I have a feeling this won't be a apology.
"Don't under any circumstances ruin this for me. Don't you dare. If you screw this up for me, well.. I'll tell everyone what an absolute freak you are. And mum will be the first to know, got it?"
She prods me hard in the arm, and I give a icy glare before saying," I'll be good as gold. And if anything does slip out, feel free to whinge to mum about it."
I push past her, and she brushes her skirt, as if she caught germs from me. She used to think she would get magic germs from me if I touched her, after I came home from the first year. You would not believe the amount of soap we went through.
I enter the dining room and immediately notice there is an elephant in the room.
Okay not an elephant, but close. Vernon I'm-going-to-be-a-drill-guy-do-you-want-to-yawn-while-I-tell-you-all-about-it Dursley is sitting at one end of the table, blonde hair separated neatly and a big bow tie covering what little neck he had before.
Blonde. I could never date a blonde. I prefer guys with darker hair. Yeah, I couldn't date blondes. Every time I saw the hair I would just see Vernon's face sneering at me. Eugh.
He was peering around the room, sniffing occasionally and seemed very interested in our crockery. I would have to watch in case he nicked something.
"Lily, could you bring in some of the potatoes through!"
I bring in the pot after my mum and set it on the table, taking my seat beside opposite Tuney, ignoring the look of annoyance and defiance that flits across her face. I sit through boring conversation after conversation, the most boring of all are the ones with Vernon droning on about drills and his acceptance to something to do with holes and metal and stupid things like that.
I basically ignore it all. Who could listen to that without getting bored? Petunia apparently. She is sitting with rapt attention, a little smile playing around her red lips.
The only good thing about the meal is that there is trifle for pudding. I love trifle. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it, it's ace. No-one can make a dodgy trifle and my mum's is some of the best.
I manage to escape when pudding is finished. They take the drill conversation, which is still going, into the living room while I run back upstairs. I can't believe they can still listen to another explanation about metal.
I do however see my dad slip his book in with him and I have a feeling that the evening might end in shambles.
Sure enough, a couple of hours later, I hear some form of shouting. I later gather that Dad fell asleep during one especially riveting talk about a certain drill hole in Liverpool, and Vernon was gutted he didn't hear the pun at the end.
My mum blames my dad for not having a long enough midday kip, but we all know it was the talk from The Elephant which made him knackered.
I know what my mum is like when she gets in one of those moods, so I stay well out of her way for the next few days, deciding I'm better off just hiding out in my room till I get a reply from my friends. Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, and soon have plans to meet in Diagon Alley on Saturday, for a Hogwarts shopping trip and a girly catch up. Which we all know will be dominated by talk of Zoe's summer romance, although I'm sure Ellie and I will be able to talk about at least one important thing.
When Saturday finally arrives, I wake up early, making sure I have a relaxing shower and get into my favourite top and jeans, the top having come from Ellie. All my favourite clothes tend to come from her, as opposed to Zoe who I'm sure is determined to get me looking like a hooker.
I have developed tactics of avoiding too much contact with my family so can escape pretty quickly by apparating to an empty alleyway beside the Leaky Cauldron. Some friends from school appear to be hanging around, but I pass by quickly, unnoticed, until I reach Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
We have been graced with sun in the summer this year, and so many people are sitting in the table outside, licking elaborately made ice creams. Including two of my best friends, who seem to have a collection of wizarding magazines spread out before them, and two empty ice cream tubs.
I swing a chair round and plonk down beside them, giving them both a heart attack by the looks of it.
Then proceeds the strangulation that my friends call hugs, followed by jumping in seats holding hands. Well, we are girls after all. So when I get my first look at my best friends, I can easily tell that some things have changed over the summer.
Ellie, who was always small, always, seems to be smaller, if that was possible. She has cut her wavy brown hair into a crop, something she had said she would never do, and she has a slight tan, something she said she never got.
Zoe, who is always different, isn't that different. Her hair is still blonde, an irregular occurrence since she previously dyed her hair a different colour every summer, although the blonde definitely isn't her natural colour. Her tan is new, hovering closer to orange this year.
"Ellie what did you do to your hair?" I screech, fluffing it up to her annoyance. She shakes her head so it settles back into place (I have no clue how she does that) and gives me her sweetest Ellie smile.
"I wanted a change."
Now this is so unlike her I have to stare at her for a minute. For the entire time I have known her, all I've heard is "I hate change". Zoe was the one who liked to mix it up a bit. Now the roles seem to have reversed, and I'm getting suspicious.
"Has Zoe given you drugs?" I question, my eyes flickering over to a sniggering Zoe. I wouldn't be surprised.
"No, stop it," Ellie hits my hand, " I know it's unusual, but Zoe was as weirded out as you when she saw her. Obviously she assumed there was a guy on the scene."
"Who can blame me," says Zoe, who was flicking through a magazine, " New guy, new hair, would all make sense. Why else would she change her orderly lifestyle."
"Cut me some slack guys, it is seventh year. I'm allowed to be prepared for the big bad magical world only a year away."
"It suits you," I say, smiling, and give her a quick hug, unused to not having her long hair getting in my face when I do it," And you know, I think you've grown smaller."
"Why does everyone say that," Ellie frowns, and Zoe throws her magazine on the pile.
"I said that too," she adds, before giving me a once over, "Something's different with you however, and it's not the whole Head Girl thing. Which we will get to later," she finishes, noticing Ellie opening her mouth.
"I think I'm the same. You are," I point out her hair.
"Blonde have more fun," Zoe says simply, smirking, "Plus, it totally suited me in Spain, which was gorgeous by the way. Come on, let's hit Gringotts."
We stand up, picking up our bags and head into the gleaming, and completely security obsessed bank. The floor looks slippery it's so shiny, and I have a hunch the small pedestals are made of solid gold.
"At least your taller than them," Zoe points out, as a very small goblins lurches past, carrying a bag of rubies. Ellie elbows her sharply in the ribs as we approach a desk, before handing over her key.
Let me just say I am fine with the journey down to the vaults. Zoe however, is another matter. Despite the amount of times we do this journey, she always goes slightly pale, always noticeable with her tan, and threatens to throw up. This time is no different. By the time we are at her vault, she is practically heaving.
It is with much difficulty she removes her money, making sure to stash it deep in her bag so it won't fall out. Once Zoe recovers, with the help of the lovely group of guys hanging around outside Gringotts, we head to Slug and Jiggers.
Zoe hasn't taken Potions, which she considers messy and a waste of her time, but Ellie and I have. I don't want to blow my own horn, but well I'm kind of a genius at it. The teacher, Professor Slughorn, is such a sweetie, always throwing parties and dinners, which both Ellie and I are invited to.
The next stop is Madam Malkins, where Zoe somehow acquires new school robes, and a hot pink hat, which I know for a fact she will never wear. Ellie and I don't need knew robes, since I got new ones last year and haven't outgrown them, and well Ellie hasn't really grown since 4th year.
She's so small it's hilarious. There was this house elf we met once, who was taller than her. It was possibly the best day of my life.
We then find ourselves outside Flourish and Blotts, and through the window we can see the smarmy, sleazy Gregory Snaphitch, a failing arsehole who graduated from Hogwarts last year. He was well known for having rubbish grades, and cheating on Zoe two years ago. Not that she minded particularly, as she was going to dump him any way, for being a general arse. I have no clue as to how he got the job at Flourish and Blotts.
Probably slept with the owner.
He slides up to us the minute we enter, leaning far too close with far too bad breath.
"Can I help you ladies with anything you desire?" He smirks, and I think I see him licking his lips. Ugh.
"Go sexually harass someone who cares Gregory," says Zoe without looking up from her nails, and he slinks away with a narrowing of his eyes. Probably towards the group of underage girls hanging round the pink sector of the bookshop.
Zoe then proceeds to lead us round a few corners of bookshelves through almost illegally small gaps, and then pronounces we are lost.
"We cannot be lost," Ellie snorts, crossing her arms, "It's just a bookstore, and not a particularly large one at that. We came through that, we'll just retrace our footsteps. What are you looking for anyway?" She points at a gap the in the shelves as she speaks.
"Something I know is around here somewhere," Zoe mutters, looking closely at the nearest bookshelf, "Maybe your right. Let's head back through the gap."
We all squeeze through, and find ourselves in the part of the bookstore I have never seen before.
"This is it," Zoe says excitedly, striding towards the table in the middle, which is covered in books.
"Look at these books," I say, peering closer at the nearest bookshelf. Jinxes for the Jinxed. Outsmart the Dark Arts. Counter Spells for Creepy Stalkers. Pull a Master Prankster Prank.
"These look like the sort of books the Marauders would love?" Ellie mutters, smirking at me.
"Zoe, how did you know to look for this?" I ask, impatiently.
"Sirius told me, at the end of last year."
"You mean when you were snogging his face off?"
I'm not listening to Ellie and Zoe's banter. Instead, I can very clearly hear the footsteps and raucous laughter which seems to be heading for this pranksters gold mine.
"Hide!" I whisper, trying to grab at the others.
"We are allowed to be here Lily," says Zoe, giving me her your-being-a-nutter look. But the bad feeling in my tummy is still here, so without further ado, I whip around a bookshelf and find a small hollow in the wall. There is bust hiding me from eyes which may peer through the bookshelf.
I hear voices after a minute, so take a breath and peer out, looking through the books into the little section.
Oh Merlin, Zoe and Ellie are chatting to the Marauders. I should have known. Following my instincts was a good idea at least. But the traitors.
The Marauders just had to be in Diagon Alley the same day as us, didn't they.
I really do hate the Marauders.
Okay, so hate might be a slightly strong word. I don't hate Remus Lupin. He's actually one of the only decent blokes in our year, and is a Prefect. So, okay, he's my mate. And no-one could hate him, especially with his deer in the headlights look which is always on his tired looking face.
I don't exactly HATE Peter Pettigrew. It's not really his fault he's a bit too inquisitive and was put in Gryffindor, thus becoming friends with them. He's just a slightly chubby tag along boy really, and I sometimes feel a bit sorry for him, always being in the shadows.
I suppose I don't HATE Sirius Black either. I'm not his biggest fan mind, and it was slightly disgusting when he was sucking the face off my best mate last year. Mind you, he doesn't need any more fans, not with his bloody club flapping around. He's like Hogwarts biggest celebrity, and they are all obsessed over his (I'll admit it) good looks. I personally think tall, dark and handsome is a bit overrated though.
I do however, really really hate James bloody annoying arse Potter. Everything about him, from his always messy and vertically upright hair, to his constantly wonky grin, to his obvious (and he knows it) fit Quidditch body, even his bloody perfect for his body feet. It all just infuriates me so much. He's too cocky, to sure of himself, just because he is Quidditch captain and everyone loves him, except me.
I hate the way he always asks me out, no respect for my no's. He doesn't actually like me, just the fact I stand up to him. Always asks me out in embarrassing ways, like the time he spelled out "Evans, we should snog!" in fireworks for god's sake, and on Halloween no less. So mortifying.
We use last names, to make everything less personal.
Fireworks. Spelling out "We should date sometime Evans".
We do have a little mutual agreement I guess. Only last names. Makes it all less personal. He started it. But I'm glad I'm hiding, since last time we talked ( when I say talked I mean random mumbling) I may have slapped him. But he really deserved it.
"So I guess you found it then Zoe?" says a voice which sounds like Sirius.
"Yeah, it's pretty neat."
"Is Lily with you guys?"
I push aside some books at discreetly as I can and come to the conclusion that James was the one who asked.
"Uhh yeah she's-" Zoe is interrupted by a short jab to the ribs from Ellie who finishes with, " She's just gone. She had to go. Family crisis. Burning chicken. Muggle stuff. Yeah."
Well I suppose I should give her credit for trying.
Thankfully they leave after a minute, as they were apparently just picking up one book they needed. Which is lucky, because I was really getting cramp from crouching. After they exit I tumble out, my face the perfect mask of innocence.
"What the hell was that Lily?" Zoe asks as we squeeze through the gap again, "It wasn't the bloody police arresting us so why were you still doing your freaky hiding/stalking thing?"
"You know she has problems with the guys," Ellie smiles sympathetically as we reach the normal shop, " She has difficulties with some of them."
"She has difficulties with all guys, and most girls for that matter," Zoe smirks, rolling her eyes, as we search for our school books, " I don't understand it. The Marauders are pretty decent blokes when you talk to them."
"Okay, you didn't really talk to any of them except Sirius when you dated last year," I point out.
"I don't think talking was on the agenda much," Ellie giggles, and then yelps as Zoe's books collide with her arm. We manage to pay for the books and head out into the sunshine, and I see the pretty banner floating in the air. Two small children run past, a girl and a both with hair as red as mine.
"How can it not be awkward to talk to him after you broke up?" I ask as we buy apples from a nearby stall. Lots of stalls line the streets, packing the alleys even tighter.
"Because Sirius and I are very similar," Zoe replies, stopping to examine some beautiful bead necklaces which are selling for a very expensive price, " We don't get attached."
Ellie and I share an exasperated look as Zoe skips on ahead, stopping outside Eeylops. We hurry into the stuffy, slightly smelly shop, the chatting from outside being replaced by cawing and squeaking. Zoe gets distracted by some fluffy cats while Ellie joins me in the Owl treats section.
"So, Lily, Head Girl eh?" she smirks at me.
"Oh god, I was trying to forget."
"It's all your fault you know!"
"For being such a nerd."
"Shut up," I smile, shoving her slightly, "Your practically a nerd too you know."
"Ah but, I talk to people, and I'm not such a perfect little Prefect."
"I talk to people," I say, choosing some packets.
"Don't make me laugh Lily. Explain Flourish and Blotts if your such a socialiser?"
I grumble under my breath, giving Ellie a murderous look before saying," You've spent far too much time with Zoe. You're being mean now!"
Ellie giggles her little giggle."It's the truth Lily. If I were you, I would be worrying about Head Boy."
"Don't you think I haven't been obsessing over it? I debated writing to Dumbledore, to ask for two Head Girls this year instead," I frown as we get into the line, Zoe still MIA in cat land. The Owl treats are ridiculously expensive, but I pay for them grudgingly and we find Zoe obsessing over some multicoloured, and crazy looking cats.
The atmosphere seems to have changed since we were last outside. It's quieter, and chillier, and there are no more children running around, screeching. In their place is a tall man, who is charging around, shouting in people faces.
"You need to protect everyone. You can't trust anyone. You Know Who is growing more powerful by the day. Keep your family safe. Who knows who will go next."
With a jolt of horror I realise one of his eyes is missing.
I feel sick.
"Come on, let's go to the Leaky Cauldron." I pull on my friends arms and drag them the pub. Every things seems jolly here, with people laughing and drinks sloshing. We order three Butterbeers and grab a small table in a secluded corner.
"I guess I'm not the only one who's heard about him then?" Ellie bites her lip cautiously.
"You mean," I take a deep breath, "Voldemort?"
"Shush," Zoe shoots me an anxious glare, " We're supposed to call him You Know Who."
"It's just a name Zoe," I mutter, staring at my Butterbeer, "And the Ministry will stop him soon. Everything will be fine."
We sit in silence for a little while longer before giving up. The shouty man has ruined the mood. We pay for our drinks and say goodbye. I apparate back to my house and find my family in the living room. Obviously my sister scowls the minute I walk in.
"Hey pet, did you have a good shopping trip?" my mum smiles at me, setting down her book.
I smile slightly, but do not reply, just giving a small "Mmm."
"I bet you're looking forward to going back to school," my dad asks, looking thoroughly bleary eyed.
I stand up and head out the room, meaning to drop off my bags in my room. Before I walk out I don't miss the snide comment Petunia whispers.
"I'm certainly looking forward to it."
I roll my eyes as I walk out of the room. Some things never change.
AN: So guys I've edited this again. My writing was terrible and the grammer and spelling mistakes were off the charts. But hopefully this will all be sorted. I ahve this story back on track now, and it should all be better.
But please review, and sorry to all those who have already reviewed the chapter when it was all rubbishy. But itf you are new, I would love your feedback.