Ghosts of Yesterday

Ghosts of Yesterday
Chapter Four

It didn't really hit me right away. I just sort of stared at them, stunned into silence.

“You are the nanny, Lily?” James asked, his hazel eyes wide, though he smirked at the last two words, since it made me sound like an old lady. He looked like Christmas had come early this year. As much as I hate that phrase, it described him perfectly.

“Oh, you know each other? Good. Maybe my worries of you scaring her away with your pranks and mischief won't come true after all.” The person who I realized must be Mrs. Potter said, the relief in her voice being obvious. Not that I blamed her. Going to school with James for the past six years made me wary of him too, and I didn't have to be exposed to him his whole life! Though to be fair, she didn't have to deal with him the entire year. Still, it was enough for me to pity her. Suddenly, something came to me, and no matter how rude it might sound I just had to voice it. Though I didn't really care about how good of an impression I made anymore, now that I knew whose mother Mrs. Potter was.

“Erm, Mrs. Potter-” Here she interrupted me to tell me to call her Elaine, “Elaine, if you are Mrs. Potter, then why is Amy Chapman staying here?” The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it, because the expression on Mrs., er, Elaine's face looked as if she had just eaten something sour. Suddenly, I remembered something. On the letter, it had instructed me to bring formal black clothing. Did that mean what I thought it did?

“You know what? Forget I asked.” I said quickly.

“Right. Your room is on the third floor, fourth to the left.” Apparently, Elaine was no longer up to showing me to my room. She did, however, flash me a smile (though it was a sad one) so I knew she didn't hate me.

I jumped up the stairs two at a time until I got to my room. As I opened the door, my mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted me. The first impression it gave was of old-fashioned glamour. The second impression was the color blue.


Wrapped in aged blue floral wallpaper, the room was rather small and square, with two windows, one larger than the other. I walked in, a hand running along the wall as I paced the room to the larger window, which was flanked by a desk and rocking chair covered in white and blue fabric.


Outside my window was a different world than anything I'd ever seen. A small expanse of trees led right up to a crystal clear pond that had several pool elements, like inflatable rafts and a metal-framework table with matching chairs, on its banks.

I tore myself away from the view and sat down in the rocking chair, facing into my blue, blue room. Barely five feet from my outstretched legs was a funny little wooden stool, topped with a blue cushion, which stood at the foot of a four-poster bed. Blue curtains hung from the corners, and a bed skirt that was the same color blue as the curtains covered the dark wood of the bed frame. Off to the side, just on the edge of my sight line, a tall wardrobe with mirrors engraved into the doors dominated the wall farthest from my door. I sighed, relaxing more into the plush exterior of the rocking chair. I quickly shed my flip-fops and buried my toes in the thick Oriental rug that covered that half of the room. I didn't know why I felt the desire to paint my room yellow before - the blue theme was so comforting. And relaxing.

In most cases by now I would have jumped on the bed by now, but it was too pretty to destroy, and I was quite comfortable where I was. Now I had some serious thinking to do.

What should I do? Should I quit my job? As soon as I thought that (In my head, of course. I only thought out loud when I was absolutely desperate. Living with people most of the time did that to you, you know?) I quickly shook my head `no.' I was never one to quit a good challenge (and dealing with James was a challenge), Mrs. Potter depended on me, and she had just been so nice to me so far, as this room proved. Far nicer than I deserved. Besides, I still needed the money and I had to admit it gave me a small amount of pleasure thinking I was taking the money that could be spent on James. You could even say that I was taking his money. Thus proving that I wasn't deserving of such nice treatment.

`I'm going to definitely keep this job then. Maybe if I stay civil to him, he will behave.' I thought, finally gathering the courage to pounce on the bed.

Who was I kidding? This was James Potter I was talking about. Behave definitely wasn't his middle name. Trouble was more like it. Which figures, seeing as trouble follows me no matter where I go.