The Sun Has Risen
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine, so don't sue. I only claim ownership to characters I created to help further the story.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1890
Summary: Lily Evans, though popular and kind, has at times felt the need to distance herself from the world, to contemplate on the those she loves and those that annoy. On the train ride home to her last summer before her seventh year, she realizes that there are some people that she'll never quite figure out, but that maybe there's more to them than she had ever truly thought. Implied Lily/James.
She gazed out the window at the blurred images that past, her chin resting in the palm of one hand, her wand twirling lazily in the other. For once she had found peace on the train. Away from her group of friends, away from the annoying James Potter, and away from all the recently nightmarish thoughts that plagued her. Mental suffocation at its best, she thought to call it. Inhaling deeply, she reached for her book bag in the above compartment and snaffled a book from one of its pockets, wishing to lose herself, if only for a while.
Cracking the book open, she had forgot that her bookmark happened to be a
letter from her sister; a letter Petunia had sent a few weeks ago that Lily had
not bothered to read at the time. With exams, her friends, and the impending
sadness of her last summer before returning to Hogwarts for her last year, it
had slipped her mind. When the owl had arrived at the table that morning, Lily
had all but spit out her pumpkin juice upon seeing that the letter was written by
her sister. She had been about to open it when her friend Elisabeth had come
running up to her, grabbed her by the arm and dragged out of the Great Hall to
Professor Slughorn’s classroom.
It was odd touching - even looking at - the paper she remembered using in
primary school. She had become so accustomed to parchment and quills that the
thought of using lined paper and pencils made her giggle. Unfolding the letter,
she read:
Lily,
Just thought you should know that Vernon and I have finally set a date for the
wedding. It’s at the beginning of July, on the eighth. Only because our parents
are forcing me to, you’re invited. Do not bring any guests. We do not need any
more abnormal people there other than you. Your dress fitting will be done
when you come home from that horrible school of yours.
Petunia
Lily blinked twice at the letter then shook her head, exhaling an annoyed
breath. She was used to her sister’s unfriendly attitude toward her and “her
kind.” Her sister would never be able to look past the fact that she was a witch,
and the act was getting tired, and had been for a long time. Though her sister
may not believe it, Lily did care for her and wanted her to have all the happiness
in the world, even if Lily herself did not like the man Petunia considered to make
her happy. She had always thought her sister could do better, and expressed
her feelings a couple years ago when Petunia and Vernon had first started
dating. In return, her sister had treated her more awfully than she had ever
remembered. Lily eventually learnt to treat her sister with complete indifference.
No nasty retorts, no snide comments, no loud remarks; just an unemotional,
monotonous voice, and nothing more.
Glancing at the letter once more, she neatly folded it into squares and set it on
the floor. Pointing her wand at the square, she said, “Incarnum
inflamare,” and watched the letter burst into flames and the edges curl into
ash. She genially stepped on the alighted paper and twisted her foot to put out
the small fire. The letter was now dust beneath her foot.
Regaining her composure, she once again stared longingly out the train’s large
windows, the blurred scenery once again becoming her entertainment.
As the journey progressed, Lily was happy to note that no one had bothered
her. It’s not that she was anti-social, not even by a long shot, but today she felt
that she needed her space. She needed to think.
Turning her attention away from the enthralling colors of nature, she watched
the door to her compartment as other students passed, most having changed
out of their uniforms into their day clothes. Two of her friends, Elisabeth and
Wendy had passed, waving at Lily as they followed their boyfriends back to
their compartment. She saw Wendy - a particularly petite girl with light brown
hair and plain blue eyes - make a gagging gesture toward Elisabeth and Ian,
Elisabeth’s boyfriend, only to be caught and pulled along by their dear friend
who smiled at Lily and moved on. Lily couldn’t help but to laugh at the antics of
her friends, and also secretly thanked them for not stopping.
Another girl Lily recognized from Slug Club and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team
passed as well, but did not acknowledge her presence, which did not surprise
the redhead one bit. Lily was friends with most everyone in Slug Club, except
those Slytherins prejudiced against her and the girl who had just passed. She
remained kind to the blonde, soon-to-be fourth year, even if the girl was not
kind to her. From what she’d heard though, the girl – whose name she recalled
to be Isabelle - was somewhat of a loner, always keeping to herself and could
most likely be found on the Quidditch Pitch, in the library, or in Professor
Kettleburn’s office. The girl’s reclusive rituals had increased tenfold after winter
holiday, along with her attitude toward everyone.
Craig Flaherty, a handsome Hufflepuff one year below her, had told her that the
girl was jealous of her, to whom Lily had vehemently denied, but he
persisted.
“You don’t see it? The way her eyes flare up every time Slughorn starts raving
about a potion you made in class, or always asks your opinions first when he
starts pouring out questions for points?”
Lily's green eyes had widened considerably at his declaration. “No! I just – I just
don’t understand why. I haven’t done anything to her!”
He raised one eyebrow in response. “You don’t need to have done something to
someone for them not to like you.” Lily slowly nodded, knowing well that Craig
was the subject of much dislike, having been victimized by many even within his
own house because of his sexuality. “Slughorn plays favorites even within his
own group of favorites. Anyway,” Craig changed the subject, “would you
like to accompany me on a stroll around the lake? We could greet the Giant
Squid! He’d be absolutely delighted!” A thoughtful smile creased his face as he
outstretched his hand to take hers.
She laughed at the memory of that day. When she first met Craig in her fourth
year, she hadn’t been sure what to make of him. He had been a gangly young
man with little to no hair on his head and very pale. Now, three and half years
later, he had become a very close friend of hers and looked much healthier.
Though he was a year below her, he had turned seventeen literally one month
before she had. This was due to him having been very ill at the time his
Hogwarts letter had arrived, and had been receiving treatment. Lily had learnt
that he had been on bed rest for the majority of her first year, and was watched
over by a mediwitch twenty-four hours a day. She couldn’t imagine staying in
bed like that, and had always felt sorry for him, that he had not been able to
start school the same year she had.
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she realized that someone had entered her
compartment.
“You look so dishy when you’re lost in thought,” she heard the familiarly
annoying voice, the bane of her existence.
“Oh, it’s you.” So much for having a peaceful ride, she mused.
“Are we almost to the station?” She hoped so, for the sake of her sanity.
James Potter was, in her mind, one of the singularly most annoying boys she
had ever met. She didn’t hate him, which was one thing she believed should be
held for those who truly deserved it, but he did grate on her nerves. He liked to
think he and his friends ruled the school with their constant barrage of practical
jokes and their slacker tendencies, though they always somehow received
unbelievably high marks. (She always accounted that to Remus, but was at
times proven wrong when James and Sirius easily transfigured most anything
McGonagall could throw at them.) That’s not to say that all of them were jokers,
but as a group, that’s how it looked and was, especially with Sirius and James
as the so-called leaders.
“Still have another couple hours,” he said, looking at his watch. He tapped his
index on the face of the ruddy wristwatch then shrugged his shoulders. “What
are you up to? You looked too content, so I thought I’d stop.” He smirked, a
genuine spark in his hazel eyes.
“I was reading,” she replied matter-of-factly, taking her literature from her book
bag once again. “And if you’d be so kind, I’d like to read alone.” She opened the
book and began where she left off. After a chapter, she noted that he had not
budged.
“Did you not hear me?” she shut the book on her finger, keeping her page.
“What is your exact motivation for being here?” He being in the compartment
was really beginning to irritate her.
He didn’t answer her right away, but had tilted his head to read the title of her
book. “I’ve read that.” He pointed to it. “Good book, that is. Though, I never
thought I’d see you reading anything other than nonfiction, or textbooks; let
alone something so dark.”
A perplexed gaze had filtered onto her face. “I didn’t think you read,”
she said with utmost honesty.
“Oh, ho, ho, very funny,” he said. “Seriously, I have read it. The Sun Has
Risen, correct?” He took his glasses off and breathed on each lens, then
wiped them clean with his shirt.
“Yes,” she answered slowly, still very confused that she was having an actual
conversation with James Potter; one that didn’t consist of her wasting the
precious air in her lungs. “I bought it a couple months ago, but have only just
found the time to read it again.”
He nodded, smiling at her. “Yeah, understandable. It’s a good book," he
reiterated. "Borrowed it from Lupin at the beginning of the year. For a bloke
who has so little, I swear his family owns a copy of every bleeding book ever
published.” He stood from his seat, smoothing the creases in his
trousers.
“Leaving all ready?” she found the words slipping from her lips. The fact he was
interested in something other than making her irate and red in the face had
piqued her interest. Sitting up straighter, moving her pony tail behind her, and
crossing her legs, she asked, “If it wasn’t Remus’ persuasion, why did you read
the book?”
James turned on his heel to face her again, his hair covering a portion of his
vision. He swiped his hair to one side, only to notice that the sun was setting
behind her, illuminating Lily’s dark red hair. A grin crept onto his face and he sat
back down, the blood gradually rushing into his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“The title,” he simply supplied, hoping that his blush wasn’t too noticeable. “I
must think backwards though, because when I first read the title out of Remus’
hand, I thought of sunsets.”