disclaimer: I own nothing but my own random thoughts.

author's note: I love writing, came up with this when I was bored, bare with me, reviews keep me going!

this story is basically an extended version of Lily's journal and thoughts. Her full name is Lilea (Lil-ee-ya) Kensley Evans. But she goes by Lily. So, don't get thrown off or mad. Otherwise, enjoy and if you have questions - ask.

This is an AU, so not everything is according to the book.

Abarraine. 27 December.2006.


Hard to be Faithful: More Than You Thought


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

6th year – Arithmetic theory

8:47 in the mornin'

I turned in my seat to glare back at her. Who does she think she is? Right, bad question, obviously she knows how high and mighty she is. The daughter of a famous auror, the quintessence of female perfection, seduction master Adare Merriner. Psh. Whatever. It's a shame that I don't live under the constraining walls of conformity and fear her renowned honor and beauty.

I can feel my insides just burning as I glare back at her. Her baby doll blue eyes are sharp with hatred and is that?—is it? A hint of jealousy? It's what radiates through her gaze, her nose is lifted higher than usual, and her perfectly trimmed eyebrows are so scrunched, they're emitting a hazard to her wrinkle free forehead. I'm sensing definite jealousy. I've never been a pro at actually speaking, but my mother said I have an undeniable knack for reading people. I sense people sometimes more than I hear them.

So, this must mean... oh my word! This mean there's a reason for all her jibbing these past few weeks? She's jealous of me? …Me? Lilea Kensley Evans?

The short little red head, hardly reaching five foot two. Head so curly it's rivaling Shirley Temple, except for the length, mind you. I can proudly say that my hair is definitely the longest hair in all of sixth year. This has come about because every time mum came towards me with those satanic scissors this past summer, I got the chills and had to flee the vicinity; usually the neighborhood to ensure my precious hair's safety. It was strenous. Who knew when mum'd suddenly be behind me!

And how about my superbly awesome seeker abilities; I'm founder of the 'Spanish Forté' a ridiculously insane backwards dive feint with a piercing 540˚ to throw off the opponent. Mental.

Oh. Well, I suppose Adare may just have a bit of trouble being jealous of me on the pitch, I mean she really isn't the athletic type. Straight up though, have you heard of a girl who spends an entire day in her dorm nursing her broken nail as ever being athletic? Even stepping outside for Care of Magical Creatures is an intense workout... for her hair. Heaven forbid it move a fraction of an inch. Dear me, the sky might come crashing down!

I'm sick of trying to figure out Ms. Superb. How in Godric's name can she be jealous of me, it's flat out unreasonable.

James keeps poking me; I'm about ready to chew off his head. But then I'd actually have to speak and that really wouldn't be the smartest move in Hornbuckle's class. His lectures are strictly monologues. There's never supposed to be any interacting. Not even a simple question and answer dialogue between dedicated teacher and eager student.

Seems James loves the game "Poker", really, how immature can one be? Poker – Poke her. We've been betting and playing quite a bit lately, long nights, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to my poor mate. He's still at his little game.

"James. Would you quit?" I mutter out the side of my mouth. He just snickers silently beside me. I know he's snickering too, because all I see are his soddingly broad shoulders twitching in a suppression of said laughter. Between Princess Adare's atrocious glare and one very strong, pointy finger that keeps sticking me between the ribs, I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic. Or possibly it's suppressed annoyance. Hatred. Aggression? Stress? Yes, stress.

"JAMES ISAAC! You take that heinous hand and put it on the damn desk before I put it there, mangled!"

Whoops. I need to remember that outbursts should be muttered. Never shouted. Especially in class. Most definitely need to mentally note: never in Hornbuckle's class.

And James is back to his hitching laughter… this time, he's not suppressing it. No one is. Blast.

"Lily Evans. Get Out." Hornbuckle's crooked finger jabbed towards the door. My eyes grew, I couldn't be kicked out. This doesn't happen to me! I… I'm not a perfect student, but I'm definitely not a troublemaker! Kick idiotic Potter out!

"But… professor, I—" His beady eyes narrowed and he bared his yellow teeth, not too unlike a rabid canine. Dipping my head, I resigned myself to packing up my notes. I glanced at James and found him biting his lip, his eyes pleading forgiveness.

I just sighed in annoyance and slammed my chair toward the desk, causing Amelia Bones and Eloise Cole to jump slightly. They each send me a "Sorry, Lil" smile as I walked, head high, out the door.

"Miss Evans, you may return as soon as you give this to Professor McGonagall." I stopped just in the arch of the door and turned, again, my green eyes widening as he handed me a small parchment of paper, of which held his flourished crest. I grabbed it and continued my march.

Damn, now I was in trouble. I longed to know what that parchment held. Most likely expressing to McGonagall how inappropriate, and juvenile, not to mention disrespectful I am. She'll be thrilled by this new development.

And then it hit me. Like a cartoon anvil. Why does she have to receive the parchment at all? Hornbuckle will most likely forget this whole escapade within the hour… I could just take a leisurely walk around the castle, then traverse back to class, disposing of said parchment in a rubbish bin in some random hall.

So what if I am just a tab bit of a troublemaker. No one got hurt.

Just an average day in the life of Lilea Evans? Possibly, I claim influence by James I. Potter. He's at fault. Always.

I strode back into Hornbuckle's class not twenty minutes later. Vengeance on my mind. I tried to hide my smirk as I met Hornbuckle's glimmering eyes. Such a dense fool. I believe everyone can be an actor if they really put their mind to it. Hornbuckle will never know that I swindled my way out of detention. Ten points to me? Naa, twenty. I took my seat next to a quiet James and with a continuing smirk, grabbed his notes. I can hear him huff beside me, but I just keep my eyes down and gather my pink pen to continue taking my own notes. I can feel James' glare. One word for you Jay-- retribution. Sweet, simple retribution.

He's oddly quiet…. I test my boundaries and glance over at the kid, my best friend. His head's resting on his arms; that little bugger went to sleep on me! Good God, can I not win even one little battle!

This lesson is lost on me. Between Adare's hateful glare and James getting me kicked out-- and sleeping while I sit here in agony… I've not learned one single thing. At least I have his notes--

Ow! Someone just chucked a paper wad at my head. I have to roll my eyes now. Am I really this deserving? To be rewarded with such praise and humiliation? Perhaps I should just stand up so I become a bigger target?

Or not.

It was Caradoc Dearborn, trying to annihilate me again with some type of school affiliated item. Just yesterday it was the remnants of a used quill. That spiffing black ink was fun to get out of my ponytail.…

He just won't leave me alone. Everyday it seems, a new way to annoy me or in his words "take in every detail of your precious face". Precious, please. This pale, be-freckled thing? I often worry about these wizards' sanity. Again, between Adare, James, and now Caradoc I have to wonder if my life wouldn't have been easier in some Muggle secondary school.

Naa. I'd take activity over passivity any day.

James seems to find hilarity in it though, it referring to Caradoc's flinging of miscellaneous items at my poor, soon to be bruised body. James doesn't miss a beat, even when he's sawing z's. Now he won't stuff it, the bloody bugger. It wasn't even that funny! He's on the verge of collapsing out of his chair he's laughing so hard. All I can do is stare open-mouthed at him. That boy, always finding my embarrassment humorous.

Can I blame him? Not very likely. Me and James, yeah, we're chums. We're chummy chums. Chummiest of Chums. Done now. That's why he gets me in trouble and I steal his notes and why he shoves me down stairs and I remove all his precious hair.

Oh, word. An idea just flickered into my enormously small mind. Perhaps that is why Adare is frothing at the mouth, she's jealous of my chumminess with ol' Jamesie boy!

And Caradoc? Well, that boy's just dreaming for something that will forever remain a fantasy… even in the Wizarding world… where anything can happen.

Back to the pressing matter, the one regarding my best friend and his love life. Or rather the preservation of his safety as it seems Adare, the rich psychopath, has targeted him as her next "the one".

Honestly, Adare has no luck in snagging James for herself. That boy, thankfully, has better standards, not the best standards mind you, but better. It may seem clichéd, but I know James has matured lately. It's not drastic, but it's definitely there. We still have our mattress races down the staircases, our apple juice chugging contests, and our random spouts where we hex one another into embarrassment when we're a bit angered. Who could mature out of that?

No, James has matured lately; I believe its pressure from his parents. Last year, however, James 'got around' with the girls. Not that way, you perverts, never went past first base. I hope. You know, snog 'em and ditch 'em. He said they all turned out to be clingy. Probably the truth since they were all ditzes… nothing against ditzes except that they're brainless…. I know these intricacies in James' life 'cuz we talk. Like I said, James and I are chummy chums. I think his 'snog 'em and ditch 'em' was a rebellion thing against his parents.

You see, James and his parents have a very strained relationship. They're old fashioned Wizarding folk. I can only relate them to you as being like a Duke and Duchess of some territory. That's how much power they hold and how insanely rich they are – they're extremely close to the Minister of Magic, both politically and socially. So, therefore, as I'm told, makes his lineage exponentially important.

And his relationship with his parents is strained; it's a struggle each Christmas for me to convince him to go home and be with his parents during that special season. I won't say he hates Meira and David Potter, but he's a huge grudge against them. Why?

James has an arranged marriage with my friend Amelia Bones.

You heard me right.

Take a breather; it's a hard one to swallow all at once, I'll say. I fell down the stairs when Amelia told me. Literally.

It was during the summer, July 19th 3 o'clock in the afternoon to be exact. What? I'm not psychotic with dates and times, it just so happened to be a very shocking day. You tend to remember those things. Plus, I spent the rest of the day nursing my poor, broken ankle until Amelia's parents finally took me to St. Mongos.

We were going down the stairs at Amelia's house. James and Remus were waiting by the front door with their studly brooms so we could play some quidditch, Amelia's a purebood so it's second nature for her to fly, but she's only ever done it three times. That particular day would not be her fourth, even if I hadn't broken my ankle, she still would have prefered to sun bathe and be a cheerleader. She's the next poster child for skin cancer, I swear.

Amelia's just not your out-going, competitive, give-your-whole-body-up-for-the-game kind of person. Amelia is your average girl-- well, average in the sense that she's from an upper class pureblood Wizarding family. She has worn skirts and dresses all her life, why ever would she conform to the ways of the men and not show off her model-sculpted legs? Oh, Amelia. Such a sweetheart.

I may make out Amelia to be that high, nancy girl we all hate, but not everyone can be athletic like me! Amelia's a better mediator between me and Sirius, she's a better artist, draws fantastic portraits, and Amelia, bless her heart, you just can't get angry at her. It's the eyes, they pull you in and melt your heart. That's how she always ends up with the last raspberry tart. Blast her!

I did it again! I made Amelia be some spineless chick. I'll try again. Amelia's dedicated to everything she does, everyone she meets. She'd kill for her friends and family and there have been times when she's hexed the nuts off of Lucius and Rudolphus for me. A slow temper to rise at times, but deadly protective of what she cares about. I know that's why I love her.

Back to her betrothal on that fateful July afternoon. I was ragging on her again, as I always do. "Amelia, what's the sodding deal with not playing quidditch? What do you suddenly have against James that I can't go and talk to him? Hmm?" The poor dear, she finally snapped and spilled after my... three hour interrogation of whining. When I say whining, I mean... not that bad kind of whining, yeah? I'm a good person! Cheery, random, nowhere near eccentric, hyper, erm... and klutzy. Who wouldn't love a little wired person like me? And little, yes, little.

"Lils, I don't want to talk to James Potter nor see James Potter ever again in my entire life because my bleeding parents are forcing me marry the pompous arse! Don't you—"

I fell down the stairs.

Head over heels, I fell.

Must have been quite the spectacle. Petite little Lily, grandly tumbling down the front grand staircase. Red hair flying followed by a high ear piecing yell.

Turns out to be the best thing I ever did. James and Remus came to my rescue, a little too late to remove the damage done, and Amelia, too preoccupied with my safety didn't even remember she had vowed to never speak to James again.

The day ended well enough, my leg in a temporary cast and Amelia and James friends again.

::

Take that Adare, take it all and stuff it! You can glare at me because I have James at my elbow, but that's the farthest extent you will get, my friend, er… enemy?

And Caradoc, that boy needs to learn how to lure in a women, erm, well, how about a girl. I'm not sure I'd consider myself a women just yet. Maybe when I get married, eat three-dozen fish nuggets or wear a ball gown.

Thank God, the bell finally rang. Another Arithmetic lesson done and forgotten, literally. I didn't pay attention to a smack of it. In one ear and out the other. That'll be great when I have to do all these blasted math problems later.

"James. You're my study buddy." I ordered.

"In your dreams Lil. You know it's a waste of time."

"How about I'm your tic-tac-toe buddy, and we throw some math into the schematics?"

"I'm going to lunch Lily."

"Hoser."

"Love you too." James is such a good friend.

Ew, googly eyes from Caradoc, fleeing now!

Yours,

Lilea Kensley Evans of Castlegrace, Ireland


AN: so here's the reworked 1st chapter. It's still not up to the quality of my latest chapters… which I'm head over heels in LOVE with. But hopefully it's a bit better. This chapter's just a lame building block. I urge you to PLEASE keep reading!!!

Thank you.

Abarraine