{Take me back to the.start.} <------

[Lily Evans]

"Stop it!" She called out, giggling softly, her voice distant, muffled by a mess of shaggy, dark brown hair. There was a soft tingling sensation at the nape of her neck, almost as if she were being tickled with the softest of hands.

There she sat.... On the edge of her seat, once foot resting gently on its tip beneath the large chair engulfing her elegant figure, the other pointed sharply in front of her as it sat gracefully beneath the long, wooden table in front of her. She had her elbows sitting primly at the edge of the table as her hands graced her temples, her brow furrowed...

She could feel a soft breeze swaying against her face, the ends of the shaggy hair in front of her plastered against her face as her own fire engine red hair trailed after her. Closing her brilliantly green, almond-shaped eyes, she took in the scent wafting towards her from the soft hair that was masking her face. It smelled of woodland flowers, and had a soft tinge of cinnamon to it; as did her own hair. Here and there a small leaf or twig brushed against her reddened cheeks, but she hardly minded. "Stop!" She cooed, once again, erupting into a fit of giggles as she fell back onto the lush, soft green grass, free of the hair that had been entwined with her own.

'Quit it!' She tried to convince herself.... Though no matter how often these phrase ran through her mind, she simply could not do anything but dwell on the fantasy evolving before her own troubled eyes....

Looking up, she locked eyes with what soon turned out to be a lovely dream, after all, for staring down at her, -

To perform the most advanced of Charms work, the movements of the wand must be....

a dreamy smile plastered onto his face, propped up on his elbows, his Oxford folded at the elbows, -

To perform the most advanced of Charms work, the movements of the wand must be....

his tie askew, was no other than -

To perform the most advanced of Charms work....

James Potter.

She had re-read the same sentence numerous times, yet it simply would not sink into her mind.... Her nails had now dug into her temples so hard that if she were to only pull away, there would be sharp, red marks upon the sides of her forehead. Trying ever so hard to focus upon the text written in front of her, her eyes averted to the beneath the lengthy paragraph her mind had been trying to take in these past few minutes.... And all the while....

She could feel a sly smile creeping up her slender lips, her eyes shining brightly, and not the slightest impression of this being anywhere close to wrong running through her mind.

'Daydream
I fell asleep beneath the flowers
For a couple of hours
On a beautiful day
Daydream
I dream of you and meet the flowers
For a couple of hours
Such a beautiful day'

"Oh God..." muttered a soft, dreamy voice. Her eyes drifting off the textbook laying sprawled before her, feeling as if she were about to belch, Lily Evans stared straight ahead, her expression one of pure dislike; much unlike the pleasant spark she had hid behind as her mind had stirred with imagination only a mere few seconds earlier . Shuddering at the thought of that awful nightmare once again, she straightened up, running a hand through her long, fiery hair, pulling back strands of ringlets behind her ear as she did so, letting out a silent sigh as her eyes flicked slowly from the large window some thirty feet away to the bookcases to her side and back. Running her graceful hand over the side of her face, the other now resting gently upon the table before her, her mouth set into a tight frown.... She began to feel slightly queasy though somewhere, deep down, she felt slightly pleasant as well. 'No, no.... That's utterly mad.... I most certainly did not find that nice; it was completely ghastly!' Her brow furrowed, she tried to shake away all thoughts of giggles, the softest of kisses, and twigs away from her mind, shaking wisps of fiery red hair away from her face in the process. Her hair had been pulled up into a graceful bun though quite a few soft ringlets had been released from the firm hold of her black barrette, and were now swaying gently against her face with each move. Her head elegantly resting upon the palm of her hand, her sparkling eyes swiftly averted back down upon the informative text of the thick textbook before her, all thoughts flying gently to the back of her mind.....

To perform the most advanced of Charms work, the movements of the wand must be quick and swift....

'I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are'

[cami]

There was only so long a Potter could remain in a single place. Whether it was a legitimatized genetic trait that they always had to be going, going, going – achieving – was definitely a topic for discussion. In fact, the Potters welcomed it with great pride.
The family name was everything.

James Potter was certainly no exception. His hair said it, his clothing said it, his eyes, especially, said it: this constant drive to impress, and impress thoroughly. He was the definition of classic. The conceit that ultimately came along with it was an insignificant side effect, at least as far as James was concerned. In any case, the majority of the school’s population seemed in no hurry to dissent.

Lily Evans was, of course, quite the unexpected bump in the road.

James was still having trouble sorting through all of the technicalities of it.

Once he had come to terms with his “charm” and its blatant failure to manufacture for Lily any sort of affectionate feelings towards him, James had, finally, after many months, realized he would have to wade through some pretty hefty sorting.

It took another many months for this Potter to realize that may have been the reason he had taken on the challenge in the first place.

---

It was raining and he absolutely detested the rain. It was long and dreary, and he didn’t have any patience to wait it out. It was an obstacle he couldn’t look in the face and tell to get the ruddy hell out.

It was, frankly, annoying.

“What the f**k.”

Annoyance, surprisingly, never agreed with James.

He was sitting at his desk – the white Oxford loose around his thin, although simultaneously broad form, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The maroon tie was loose and non-conforming, his dark hair typically tousled. A quill twirled through his fingers. It might have been a thoughtful, pensive moment, if it hadn’t been such an obviously impatient one.

He got up, he went to his window, he sat down. He got up, he took a leak, he sat down. He got up, he –

He definitely had work to do. It wasn’t the climactic conclusion he had wanted to come to, but it was some sort of decision, something to put his energy towards.

But, this cursed dorm. This cursed dorm that bred… he didn’t even could put a name to it. He couldn’t stay here.

James heaved a sigh and gathered his books, his parchment, the aforementioned quill. The library, it was.

He clattered down the stairs, swept through the Common Room, strolled his way down the halls. Swinging open the doors of the grand establishment, what could only be the great Hogwarts library in all its glory – the stained glass windows, the rafters, the distinctive smell of literature wasting away on its wooden shelves -

Then he saw what he needed to see.

“Evans.”

For the first time that evening, his voice smiled.