It's Enough Just to Breathe
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!
Prologue:
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. For some odd reason, some people I tease don't find it a laugh when I nettle them. It'll always remain a mystery to me...
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 in which I transfigured her quill into a carrot. After all, it was Divination, so 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, no such thing is trivial.
Now, Evans is really a one-in-a-million case (the workings of a girl's mind are beyond me). She's a riddle,
really. For her, it's everything or nothing. I'll never get that girl. Evans has an abstruse character that
absolutely no one can puzzle out. Arabella 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.
Mundungus 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.' Do you see what I mean? Riddles, riddles, riddles. That's all that comes out of anyone's mouth when they speak of her. Even me.
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, was one such time where she felt palpable... 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?
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 untrue. Sirius, Remus, Peter and I 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 attending my fifth year at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Welcome into my life and hear my story.
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. The first chapter is already done, and waiting to come out, as soon as I
deem it time. Well, in other words, when I have enough reviews!
I'll have to remind you that this is only a prologue. 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.
Happy reading!
Cheers,
~Lanti~
P.S. I only just figured out how to code my fics, so... BLEARGH.