Lily Potter: Beginnings

Synopsis: Lily Potter's first year in Hogwarts. Of Quidditch, houses, new rivals, midnight endeavors and a prospective Dark Lord on the rise. Lily/Scorpius eventually.

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Five: Quidditch and Unplanned Encounters

Days dragged on and plenty of things happened to put the Aeschylus Tycoon and the incident with the Leatons out of her mind. The Halloween Feast came and went and so did their first Quidditch lesson. Lily had inherited her parent's talent for flying. She couldn't forget the feeling she'd got during the kick off... Her fingers trembled, her heart soared and it felt like nothing else mattered anymore. Flying was all she needed. It made her happy.

Flying made up for the other things she was lousy at. She was average at Charms and struggled with Transfiguration. She was passable but not remarkable at Defense like her brothers were. She excelled in Potions with an ease that surprised her as James had always cribbed about it. Yet, Flying she could do. Flying she loved.

It was after her first Quidditch lesson that Lily had finally found the energy to write to her parents. Her mother's letters had been long but she hadn't written back till now. What was there to write? How Jaimie was always teasing her? How Albus was grossing her out with the way he shooed her off when he spoke to Lila, that brunette girl? How Constance was so smitten with Cousin Teddy that Lily was finding her stalkeresque behavior embarrassing?

But that day she'd written till the very end of the parchment, every word oozing of excitement and passion. Passion was something Lily Potter had never shown in anything. Maybe she'd have felt this sooner if she'd been more interested when her brothers practiced Quidditch during their summer holidays. But she had been content with her toy broomstick.

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"Out of my way!" Lily gasped as she bumped into something very solid on the way to Transfiguration.

She was very very late and she didn't want to think about what Professor Leaton would say. The Professor had grown more and more bad-tempered with every class: her voice quivered, her tone grew harsher and she seemed to get a sick sort of pleasure from insulting her students, particularly Zabini and her friends. Even Zabini who had pretended to be oblivious to it was starting to get annoyed.

She grabbed the quill that had fallen down from her book and looked up to shoot whoever the sorry klutz was the dirtiest look she could muster. But her expression changed when she saw who it was.

Marcus Leaton.

"Late for class?" Marcus asked in a way that suggested he wasn't simply being nice.

"Probably." Lily said hurriedly, her mind working furiously. What did he have in mind? Had he really seen them that night?

Marcus Leaton was in Slytherin and someone James loathed. He couldn't mean well.

"Transfiguration now?" he inquired in the same tone of nerve-wrecking politeness.

"Yes," she said, not asking him how he knew this.

He smirked at this, as though sharing an inside joke with himself. "It will do you better to not turn up. Professor Leaton is not in the best mood."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He smiled blandly.

"I'm Marcus Leaton," he finally added. "Do you know who I am?"

"Now I do," she said evenly which made him laugh. Her mouth was practically glued shut. She wanted to get out of there. She didn't like the vibe he gave her. It was calculative in the most dangerous way.

"And you are?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"L-Lily," she said quietly, knowing the inevitable was coming. She'd have to tell him her full name. This was the part she always dreaded. The part that would either be followed with adoration or contempt. She hated it. She hated it as much as James embraced it.

"Lily..?"

"Lily," she said, firmly and quickly.

He smirked, surprised yet pleased in the way one feels pleased to see another kick and scream with terror or pain.

"I didn't catch your last name," he said softly.

"Does it matter?"

"It always does, doesn't it?" he said, bitterness drenching the sarcasm. "Unless you're ashamed of where you come from."

He walked away as abruptly as he'd bumped into her. She stared after him as the staircase unhinged itself and attached itself to the neighboring one. She didn't notice as a palette of emotions surged through her.

Many would kill to be her: the littlest Potter. Harry Potter's daughter, Albus and James's sister, Fred, Hugo and Victorie's cousin and almost related to Teddy. So why did she always run away from it?

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An hour later, Lily trudged down the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. After cutting Transfiguration and nearly getting lost thanks to the moving staircase, she wasn't in the best mood.

By the time she'd figured the way back, she realized she was late for Defense Against The Dark Arts (the class after Transfiguration) as well and wasn't in the mood to rush all the way there, only to be met with Professor Shingle's expression of disgruntlement and disappointment.

Lily had already decided she hated Professor Shingle, who seemed to expect the impossible from Lily, just because she was a Potter. She seemed to always shoot Lily those looks filled with worry, almost as if to say, 'Dear, dear, are you really your father's daughter?'

It reminded her of her encounter with Marcus Leaton and she felt trapped and annoyed with everything and everybody.

She soon reached the school grounds, when she noticed a large shadow hovering over her.

Frowning, she looked up, only to see a very large man with a big beard and a smile that made her feel at home at once.

He'd been walking towards the Entrance Hall, only to be stopped as he'd caught sight of Lily.

"Yer Lily, aren't ya?" he said, his eyes instantly lighting up with recognition.

She bit her lip.

"Hagrid?" she guessed. Her parents had told her all about him.

"I haven' see ya since you was a baby! I was expectin' ter see you the first day. Didn't yer mom write an' tell you y' could come?" he asked.

"Um," she started. She'd totally forgotten about Hagrid's invitation. Her mind had been elsewhere and she'd been too busy feeling unsure about things to want to take part in another Potter tradition.

"Never mind," he said, smiling. "Y' look jus' like yer mother. And a bit of yer father o' course."

There was something in the way Hagrid said it... it sounded like a compliment, not a load of expectation and overestimation of how she was supposed to be. She instantly decided she liked him.

"I've been told," she said with a smile.

"Why don't ya come have somethin' ta eat? Y' look little lonely out here." he said, frowning. "Don't ya have classes?"

"No, I don't now," she lied, as he shook his head.

"Yea righ'!" he said, as she reddened. His smile returned. "Come on then!"

She grinned and followed him, though it would take that one visit for her to realize actually eating anything that was offered would result in a teeth-injury.

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