Disclaimer: I only own the plot and the characters that you don't recognize. I'm not making money for this story, and I don't intend on stealing credit from Ms. J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One: White Tulips and Autumn Colors
(Chapter's Song: 'Shoot the Moon' by Norah Jones)
I sat in the cool, autumn air, idly twirling my pen in my hand as I contemplated the latest situation that life had thrown at me. Merely minutes ago, I had left the stuffy library after a tedious Prefect meeting with my feathers slightly ruffled and my nerves were rather on edge.
Well, it's not really a situation of sorts. More like an obstacle to overcome. You see, Remus Lupin, my cohort if you will (mostly because he's the other Gryffindor Prefect), had told me that James Potter wants to talk to me. Now, it may not seem like the worst scenario that you can get yourself into, but whenever James and I plan on having a discussion… well, it never really ends in a truly fantastic way. I vaguely recall James ending up covered from head to toe with some unknown substance that must've been invented from my mad dash to hex him after one of our 'planned encounters'. As a result, it stayed in his hair for days and the not so pleasant smell for even longer. But this was back in third year. We've gotten more inventive as the years got on.
On the other hand, whenever we happen to stumble into each other in the common room, well, that's a completely different story. But that's something that we'll get to later on.
So anyway, Remus had told me that James wanted to talk to me. Naturally, I was a little shocked to hear this, because everyone and I mean everyone, knows that something almost always goes wrong by the end of our little meetings. I have to confess that it's mostly all on my part, so I took the opportunity to suggest meeting in the stands at the Quidditch pitch instead of the couches in the common room, since I find the pitch to be more neutral ground. Plus there's the added bonus of not having anyone there to witness a fight, which is an occurrence that is completely possible.
For some reason, the Quidditch pitch has always been a place that I go to when I need peace. For one, the view of the Forest from here is incredibly stunning. You can see the treetops for as far as you can see and occasionally a flock of birds would take flight into the sky. The Forest has always been my favorite during the fall and winter. During the autumnal months, the trees blazed vibrant shades of red, yellow, gold and orange, making the Forest appear to be on fire. If everything was really quiet around you and you listened hard enough, sometimes a breeze coming in from the Forest would bring with it the faint ethereal melodies of the centaurs' flutes.
When I first discovered this perch, I was able to hear the centaurs' music and I was completely entranced. The notes that they played were filled with the secrets of ageless wisdom and they sent shivers up and down my spine. You see, I've always considered myself as a romantic and more importantly, an artist. I've been known to draw portraits that shockingly resemble my subject, but my main foil is writing. Ever since I was little, I would write little short stories about whatever tickled my fancy. At first, it was stories about princesses and knights and ogres and fairy godmothers (ironic how that turned out, eh?), but as I grew older, I began to focus around writing about life and music and romance. The centaurs' music was actually the subject of my very first story here at Hogwarts, and it's one of my best pieces yet. Hogwarts gave my life a breath of fresh air, taking me away from all the worries at home…
Ah, and here he is now. James Potter. An extensive list of adjectives and nouns will never be able to portray the whirlwind of thought and energy and that that boy radiates. Every idea is a prank to be carried out, every sound must be turned into laughter, and every person a tool in his Great Plan.
"Hello, Lily Flower," said James, climbing the stairs two at a time and plopping his body down next to mine.
"Hello, James," I said, taking my head out of the clouds and focusing on the present. I cocked my head to the side and looked at him. "What can I do for you today?"
"Well," said James, stretching his legs out in front him. I noticed that he has remarkably long legs. "I wanted to ask a favor from you."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"I want us to get along this year, Lily," said James, looking up into my eyes.
I blinked at him stupidly, not really registering what he's getting at.
"In other words, I want to be friends."
I frowned at him, openly showing my confusion. "But we are friends, James. What are you talking about?" I rested my chin in my hand and looked at him.
James sighed. "No Lily, we're acquaintances. That's something different."
"Well then, I guess that that means that I have to tell you about myself, doesn't it? I'm Lily Marie Evans, born on March 24, 1964. I have a sister who's two years older than me, a dead mother and a father. I love writing, music and my head is always in the clouds."
"Well, that's a start," grinned James.
I looked at him intently for a bit, searching for something nameless in his eyes as a thought suddenly popped up in my mind. "Why are you doing this?"
"What? Trying to be your friend? Well, for one, you've always struck me as a person worth knowing. And for another, I don't intend on having the limb dismemberment scenario repeat itself."
Oh right. I had forgotten about that. I felt the blood rush into my ears and neck as I blushed furiously. "Sorry," I quickly muttered.
James shrugged. "It was my fault. I was being a prat. Anyway, Lily Flower, I have to go," said James, getting up. He conjured a perfect white tulip, my favorite flower and handed it to me. He kissed my cheek and went down the stairs to exit the pitch.
James's kiss stunned me into silence and paralysis. James has always been a rather touchy-feely person, but he's never actually outright kissed me. For some reason, it just caught me completely off guard and I began to feel a little bit dizzy.
I clutched the flower to my chest and touched my cheek with my fingers. "Bye," I whispered weakly after him.
I put the tulip on the seat next to me and looked down at my lap at the invitingly blank page, waiting for me to fill it with some new tale.
I looked at the tulip and thought for a moment, and then began writing.
…..
And now the fall is here again
You can't begin to give in
It's all over
…..
A/n: So tell me what you thought about that. It was an idea that I'd come up with a while ago, and I thought that I'd give it a go. As you may have noticed, the story's in Lily's point of view, detailing her life, her thoughts, and everything. Each chapter will have an accompanying song, which I think fits the mood of the latest installment. I hope that you enjoyed and please review!