Chapter 1 - The Meeting of the Third Kind
Merlin and Agrippa! Why always me? Do you hear me, Merlin?! Why me? What did I do? I can imagine my voice resounding theatrically off of the walls as I threaten with my fist towards the sky. Shortly thereafter, the roof breaks open, and Merlin appears, sitting on a cloud. He reminds me of Dumbledore somehow, but as his awesome voice grumbles, he is the exact opposite of my lovely headmaster.
"What do you desire, witch?" he hums.
"Why do you do this to me?" I ask with large puppy dog eyes, expecting immediate alleviation.
"Because it's fun for me to watch!" Merlin laughs impudently like Pevees and points his finger at me. Then he goes into a laughing fit, and the cloud floats off. However, the hole in the roof remains. Suddenly, a thunderstorm brews up, and it rains cats and dogs down on me. I cough pitifully like Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol.
"Pneumonia!" I gasp, and my lifeless body sinks to the floor.
That is the short form of my vision. But what induces me to this poor end? James Horatio Potter! Exactly. You remember, don't you? Punk Skunk Potter? Yes, I see you nodding eagerly. One cannot simply forget that, can one? Well, see I can't forget it myself, try as I might. But we are Heads, and we are both in Gryffindor house, so my success is within limits. In reality, the success is actually zero! What a disgrace it is for me to be the master of ignoring. But since he stood in his Merlin shorts before me, I haven't been able to get the image out of my head!
Did I really just think that? No, didn't I? Oh, Agrippa! (To Merlin I call no more. He only laughs at me.) If I ever graduate from Hogwarts, I am certainly going to be immediately committed to the psychiatric ward in St. Mungos.
Now, enough of my hypothetical future life and back to my deplorable here and now.
Actually, I thought it would be a great week. It is February now, and it's still snowing outside. That crunch is so wonderful when you walk through the grounds. I like the winter. But what I do not like about February is the 14th of the month - the day that Honeydukes, Madame Puddifoot, and Flora's World invented. Valentine's Day!
I hate this day. I hate the ubiquitous giggling, the gossip over who's invited whom to Hogsmeade, and the fact that if one goes looking for a broom, he finds more in a broom closet than he wants to find.
But I don't complain. You probably think that I would be envious (which I am definitely not) when everyone runs through the corridors overjoyed with lovesick grins on their faces.
I thought that I'd be spared from the whole sabber-schlabber-wishy-washy Valentine's Day flannel, but oh what naïve witch I am. I was very mistaken.
Emmeline, Alice, and I go to the Great Hall for breakfast. Wow, the Prefects did a good job of decorating. Kitsch everywhere you look - small fairies, pink banners, and the whole Tamm Tamm. You surely know that. But now I come to the point of my renewed disaster.
Emmeline walks in front of me through the wing doors.
"Oh, my shoe is untied," she notices and bends down to tie it.
But suddenly, less than a second later, whoosh! Something invisible hits me. I tumble backwards while Emmeline straightens up again and doesn't notice my state of emergency. But what would I do without Alice, I think because she will surely notice. But I thought wrong there. She also doesn't notice anything, and I stumble from the Great Hall. Only at a suit of armour do I loudly come to a halt. Ouch, my old war injury.
Holy shi…erm…my goodness, what was that? Hopefully nobody saw me. It certainly looked like I was hit with a curse. I touch my face, but it seems that everything is in order. To be sure, I look into the brightly polished suit of armour. Actually, everything looks normal. I look down at myself. Everything's okay, even to the acrobatic maximum with which I push myself and control my backside. Puh, I'm lucky! I don't see anything at all. The whoosh feeling is gone. I assume it was an accumulation of temporary physical weakness.
Again fully conscious, I creep into the Great Hall and peek inside to be prepared for anything that may come my way. But I don't see anything unusual. All pupils sit at their house tables, the teachers at their table… the usual. Well, well. I come from my hiding place and tiptoe forward. I am prepared in case the whoosh comes again. Perhaps the Great Hall doesn't like me anymore because I spilled pumpkin juice on the floor yesterday? Nope. Never. I dismiss this stupid idea.
Okay, I sit in my usual spot at the table and still no new whoosh comes. Thus, I can complain about my friends who did not notice my attack of physical weakness. I made my menace true by the way, no one of my so called friends got a present for Christmas!
"Ah, there you are, Lily," Alice says, surprised. "We were wondering where you were."
Hypocrite! I cry in my head.
"Lily, you look pale. Sit down," Emmeline agrees and pours me some coffee.
Likewise, hypocrite!
It has deeply affected them that I didn't give them anything for Christmas! They still hope for their birthdays! Ha! Never!
I sit down and sip my coffee. Ah…great. I relax slightly until I hear a puff.
I don't like it when I suddenly hear things go puff. No, no! That can't be good. This exactly like how I don't like the whooshes.
Emmeline, who sits opposite me, suddenly looks at me as though I have an enormous pimple on my face. I ignore her stare. But when Alice looks at me also, ignoring gets more difficult with every second that passes. Thus, I look around the Great Hall in order to perfect my displacement strategy. My eyes glide over the Marauders, and I have to force my eyes back to them again.
What the holy Hippogriff is that? Over J.H.P.'s head flutters a small fat angel in a fabric diaper. The small guy has arrows and a bow strapped to his back, and his blond curly hair dances up and down with him.
Am I hallucinating? Should I go to St. Mungos? It's a logical response, don't you think?
I watch Potter more closely. Oh, he looks really angry at Black. However, Black curls up in laughter, tears run over his face, and he smacks his hands on the table. My dear Remus doesn't have himself under control and laughs likewise. Well, actually nearly all who sit around James laugh, and I start to laugh also. See, nothing has happened to me today. My sensitivity announced James's disaster to me and not my own. Puh, lucky again.
"Why are you laughing, Lily," Emmeline asks disbelievingly.
"Because of Potter," I answer. "Isn't it obvious?"
She shakes her head and points her index finger at my hair, or at least that's what I think she's pointing at. I close my eyes and grope my hair.
"Not your hair!" Alice giggles. "Look up!"
Unsuspectingly, I look up to find a small butt with a diaper stretched in front of my face. Small wobbly legs dance around, and enormous blue eyes wink at me from a blonde curly-haired baby's face.
My chin falls down. It doesn't look aesthetic, I know, but I can't do anything about it.
"There's a fat little angel floating above me!" I observe unintelligently.
"I am a putto," the small fat angel squeaks.
My gaze drifts back to James; his has been on me for a long time already. We look at each other while Black still laughs. Suddenly, I jump up. I speed like a tornado to Sirius Black and jump him.
It's not what you think! Tsk! Rage has caught me, and I must get rid of my aggression!
Foaming, I try to get my hands around his neck. Oh, I want to squeeze and never let go. But Black tries to repel me. He stops laughing.
"Get her off of me! She wants to kill me."
"No, what makes you think that?" Potter asks sarcastically.
"She's trying to strangle me!" Sirius gasps when my fingertips brush his neck.
Our small conflict has caused some pupils to stop eating. What am I saying? Some? No, all!
Unfortunately, my goal - to deprive Black of oxygen so that he will suffer a painful death - is unable to be reached because two strong arms loop around my waist and carry me away almost effortlessly.
"No, I'm not finished yet!" I cry. Oh boy, I've completely lost control. I know that it's Blacks fault that two small fat angels are floating over James and me. I just know it! This feeling doesn't deceive me!
"Put me down," I hiss and am immediately set down.
"Why did you do that?" I turn and stare into a pair of hazel eyes.
"Because Azkaban would not do well for your skin tone." James smiles. "And because Sirius is too young to die. If someone's going to finish him, it's going to be me," he states.
"Is that written somewhere? "
"In the James Potter law books."
Before I can point out that he is most likely unable to read and that he only looks at the comics in the Daily Prophet, McGonnie and Abe show up.
"What's going on here?" Minnie wants to know.
But before someone can answer, small tender voices sound.
"The young Black fetched us from a cabinet,
It was dark there and made us ill.
He released us and wanted our advice,
Now we are here and walk to the act.
Sing, romance and couple we must,
Until the enemies finally kiss.
We do not take off before,
And stay, if necessarily until the grave."
The verse is accompanied by harp sounds (my personal small fat angel carried a harp on the back) again and again.
James and I briefly exchange a look; now was the time. This was doomsday. We understand; we know what we have to do! We rush at Sirius Black.
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