Kiss The Boy

Kiss The Boy (Prologue)

Have you ever liked someone that was completely out of your reach? I have. The boy I fell in love with forever when I was eleven years old was James Potter, or Prongs as he was known to his friends. With his unruly jet black hair, smoldering grey eyes and a lopsided smile that could - and often did - make any girl swoon at first sight, it was hard not to notice him. Girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, even when he was just a lowly first year, yet he didn't notice any of them... or me, as a matter of fact. At least, not until our seventh year at Hogwarts, and only then he noticed me because the two of us, as Head Boy and Girl, had to work side by side on several projects.

With me, there wasn't much to notice. I was Lily Evans, a shy girl who usually stayed in a small group of girls her age, her closest friends. I was short, barely standing at five foot two inches, with long, straight red hair that fell to the middle of my back when I didn't have it up in a bun or a ponytail, which wasn't often. Freckles decorated my face- it was one of the two curses of being a redhead, the second curse being terribly pale skin. The only thing that could be considered remotely striking about my appearance were my emerald green eyes, which were my favorite feature. You see, I was neither a geek nor a beauty queen; I was an average seventeen-year-old girl. At Hogwarts, though, being average was even worse than being classified as a geek, or as a loner. I was a nobody.

James Potter, on the other hand, was everything I wasn't. He was one of the most popular boys in Hogwarts; everyone knew his name. He was Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and a damn good one at that, and had assumed the position of captain in his fifth year, when Jennifer Morgan had finished Hogwarts. He was always invited to the best weekend parties in Hogsmeade and had an uncountable number of girls vying for his attention, and that probably had something to do with his arrogance and the holier-than-thou attitude which seemed to follow him around everywhere.

James and his three friends Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were equally as popular and handsome as he was. They were also just as arrogant and self-righteous. All four were from long lines of wealthy, pureblooded families and had the world at their fingertips; all they had to do was call daddy, and anything they wanted was theirs. That was probably one of the reasons so many girls liked them, but that wasn't my reason for liking James, who was always the center of attention no matter whether he wanted to be or not. And sometimes I just knew that he wished someone else was in the limelight instead of him, but he'd never admit it. That was probably what I liked about him.

Another thing that probably made me like James was his seemingly inexperience. Despite his popularity with the women of Hogwarts, and although I'd often heard him joking with his friends in a rather perverted manner in the common room, I knew he had never experienced any type of sexual relations. If he had, it would be all around the school. At Hogwarts, and probably at any other type of school, be it Muggle or magical, gossip spread like wildfire and the loss of James Potter's virginity would not have been kept secret for long. After all, when Sirius Black lost his, it was the talk for months.

My best friend was Arabella Figg, and she had her own theory as to why James was still inexperienced in the intercourse department, and that was always summed up in two simple words: “He's gay.” I was a true romantic, and so I'd retort to her unfounded conclusion with a crisp, “I think he's looking for something more, like me.” And Bella would always snort and return to whatever she was doing, leaving me to my thinking, which always revolved around James Potter and I both looking for something more.

The only difference between us, other than the obvious “he was popular and I wasn't”, was that James had his whole life to find what he wanted. I didn't. I didn't even know how long I really did have; all I knew was that I probably wouldn't even survive to complete my Hogwarts career.

As a Muggle-born witch, I was susceptible to many things that purebloods weren't. I had developed a brain tumor that had spread so far that it was inoperable. The mediwitch at St. Mungo's had told me, in my sixth year, that this brain tumor was going to slowly cut off my bodily functions. Even magic could not save me, for the Potion needed had been long ago banned by the Ministry due to its role in the uprising of the Dark Arts. Evidently the Ministry idiots didn't care whether or not the Muggle-born of the magical society developed a fatal form of cancer, for not only did they ban the Potion, they banned the sale of any of the ingredients needed to make the Potion.

I used to watch Muggle movies and read romance novels about the handsome boy falling for the plain girl headed for inevitable death, when in the end their undying love for one another prevented the girl's death, and I used to believe how possible it was. I dreamt of finding the perfect boy for me. My dreams were shattered when I was diagnosed with cancer, and all I wanted to do was live my life, however short it may be.

I had spent nearly eighteen years in the shadows, too afraid to take any risks. Only when faced with my own death did I realize that a life lived in fear is a life half lived, as my late mother had often preached to me. Before she died, she told me that she regretted her reluctance to take risks, and how she wondered every day how her life would have turned out if she hadn't been afraid. I didn't want to wonder! So, it was my resolution that I was finally going to go for what I wanted instead of waiting for what I wanted to come to me. I was finally going to take a few chances in my life. What did I have to lose, anyway?

The Diary of Lily Evans

Hogwarts, Year Seven
Head Girl

September 1, 1978

The fact that I have only a few, innumerable number of months to live has hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm only seventeen. I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to grow up and have a big family and experience true, honest-to-goodness, unadulterated love. It's not too much to ask for, especially when so many people want wealth and numerous other things. I ask myself every day: “Why is it me that has to die? Why is God taking me so young?” It's hard knowing that I'll never get to have children of my own, and I may not even get to finish Hogwarts this year. It's very hard. But I try not to cry; I don't want to be weak. I want to accept it. There's nothing I can do about it.

That's why, this year, I'm going to do what I want, when I want. I'm writing the top ten things that I want to accomplish before I die in here, and as I accomplish them, I will check them off.

1.) Have a boyfriend who loves me for me.

2.) Be in two places at once, without magic.

3.) Get married in the church where my parents (God bless them) were married.

4.) Befriend someone I don't like.

5.) Have a snowball fight in front of Hogwarts castle.

6.) Go to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night, without permission.

7.) Attend one of the Hogsmeade weekend parties.

8.) Become an Auror if and when I finish Hogwarts.

9.) Learn to Apparate.

10.) Live as normal a life as possible until I die.

-Lily Evans