By Atlantis Forester
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm sure I don't have to precise. (I hate these things! J.K. Rowling, I hope you know how lucky you are! Not only this, but you also own a bloody castle! *pout* Wish I could create a personal Hogwarts, too. DARN.)
A.N. Remember that this is only a prologue! REWRITTEN FOR THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
I love to irritate people so very, very much.
It's just so entertaining to see them going through the different stages of anger: the first time, they frown, but wave it away; the second, they get slightly riled, glare, but still brush it off; the third... of course, my favourite of them all.
Naturally, I get into loads of trouble. Though, for some odd reason, some people I tease don't find it a laugh when I nettle them--not when I really hex (who would enjoy being hexed, after all?), but when I bother them.
For instance, Lily Evans. There's a girl who really can't take a joke. After an encounter with her, my friends and I always end up laughing ourselves to sleep. I remember one time I transfigured her quill into a carrot. After all, it was Divination, so Sirius and I needed something to while the time away. Really, considering that it's me, that was an utterly trivial matter. However, Evans... evidently, in her opinion, considers no such thing trivial.
Now, Evans is really a one-in-a-million case (girls, honestly--nothing comes out straight when it concerns them), even among her sex. A few of her favourite adages--so she claims!-- are 'All or nothing', 'Life is only what you make it' and 'Even nothing is something'. Do you see my side of the matter? Evans has an abstruse character that absolutely no one can puzzle out. Marlene once admitted to me in a weak moment that, at times, even she, Evans's best friend, could not gather her. However, she did not elaborate and never spoke of it again. Shame.
Mundungus Fletcher was even less clear. 'We'll only be masters of the world when we are masters of ourselves. That's her goal: the impossible. She's extraordinary, really. A rare one, Lily. She's admitted all the truth to herself that was possible for any human being, and that's something almost no one will do. She's past the first steps of finding out about herself, and that's far ahead of anyone else I've ever seen.' If you ask me, I think that Dung has spent too much time around Evans. Riddles, riddles, riddles. That's all that comes out of anyone's mouth when Evans's character rises as the topic. With me as the exception, naturally.
Sometimes, Evans is so different that you can't help seeing her apart from everyone else. And, at others, she is so human that you wonder why you thought otherwise in the first place.
That early afternoon, in Divination (I am presently relating the carrot incident), was one such time where she felt palpable to you... human. I never lose an opportunity at such a time where I feel I am actually able to reach her. Thus, I turned her quill into a shrivelled carrot.
Evans swivelled to me, the acerbity of her character now fully apparent in her state of anger and disdain. I couldn't help but notice that these were one of the rare moments when she actually seemed alive. That set me slightly off course, so I then did something I most definitely should not have done. I laughed.
Yes, right at her face. Sirius reckons I wasn't in my right mind back then. I agree. Perhaps her sudden vivacity triggered some inborn insanity?
Which reminds me... I again contemplate why Evans loathes me with such a passion. Oh, it's no use--I've spent many a dismal afternoon brooding over the subject, and have never come remotely close to a possible answer, so let us leave it just at that.
Of course, that landed me straight in the hospital wing for two weeks with Madam Fusspot Pomfrey. She was able to cure some of my, er, 'illnesses', but had to do quite a bit of research with the help of Professor Flitwick to reverse some of the more severe hexes the batty red-headed monster had presented me with. (After a few days, Sirius gave up trying to visit me in the infirmary; every time he saw my face, he would mumble and rush out the door, his laughter echoing behind him. Remus told me that after each visit, Sirius would be rolling around with laughter in the Gryffindor common room for hours. It was a little hard to understand through Remus's chuckles, though.)
Now, it may sound like I deserved it--the hexes and all--but that would be unfair to me. Sirius, Remus, Peter and I (er, circumstances more often concern Sirius and me, though) pull pranks on everyone. We do tend to have particular favourite victims singled out, but everyone enjoys our larks except for some Slytherins. Oh, and Evans. It's all harmless fun, and it's a regular cycle that almost everyone's come to enjoy. It's only those conservative stiff-necks who are unable to relax or those who are just born being bloody thickheaded and insufferable who can't appreciate the fun in life.
Up till here, you might still be a slight bit confused about what's going on. Well, I'll try and clear things up a little. My name is James Potter. I am an underage wizard of fifteen years and am about to attend my fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Welcome to my life and follow along with me... if you can, that is.
Hold on! Is it just me, or do I sound like some form of advertisement?
I'm sure it's just me.
A.N. Not a brilliant beginning, I must admit. Anyhow, I'm glad that the rewriting of the prologue at least is done.
I'll have to remind you that this is only a prologue. Please don't be subject to disappointment at the failure! The real story begins only starting from the first chapter, and each chapter will be FAR longer than this teeny thing.
I will be devoting the first chapter to James's beginning at Hogwarts, then, in the second chapter, will be taking it back to his fifth year.
P.S. I only just figured out how to code my fics, so... BLEARGH.