Forever Yours

Forever Yours

Minerva's Note: In this fic the Harry Potter books were not written so all of the Muggles, including you, do not know about Hogwarts. Also, I named several of the characters after people on one of my favourite tele shows simply to be amusing. They are not in any way based on the individuals that I named them after. If you can accurately speculate which show I shall give you...something to defeat the jellybeans with!

Chapter 1 Oxy-Moron

You were sitting in your history class, staring at the wall. You despised history; you preferred fiction to fact. Actually, you read so many fantasy books that almost everyone called you "Fantasy."

"Excuse me?" One of the school secretaries stuck her head in the classroom door.

Hooray! you thought. Someone has come to save me from dying of boredom!

"Yes?" asked your teacher, Mr. Sotwal. 'Sot' is a word for 'drunk' and everyone knew how well this suited your dull instructor; he invariably had the scent of whiskey on his breath.

"I have an announcement to make," she replied.

"Very well," conceded Mr. Sotwal, taking his seat.

The secretary entered and stood at the front of the room. She appeared extremely excited about whatever she had to say. "Our school has been chosen to host students from another province, so please make them feel welcome."

What's the point of being an exchange student in another province? Something odd is going on... The door opened again and this time four attractive people your age gaited inside. The only girl of the group was emerald-eyed with auburn hair and was holding hands with a boy that had such untidy black hair you doubted he'd even heard of a comb and hazel eyes that shined with mischief behind his glasses. They both gave the class confident, friendly smiles.

The third also had black locks, however, not a strand of it was out of place. His gray eyes were flirtatious, his smile charming, and his physique handsome. Despite his good looks you thought that it was unnecessary for him to wink at almost every girl in the room, including your closest friend, Gabrielle, who looked as if she were about to faint.

The last individual was glancing around the room with interest. He had light brown hair and amber eyes that seemed to be filled with fascinating secrets. You caught yourself staring at him for a moment. Quickly, you looked around, hoping no one had noticed.

Oh crap, you thought. Marge Dursley, a stocky girl with a mustache that had been your adversary since you were both nine years old (She hadn't had the mustache back then.), was smirking at you wickedly.

"We are very pleased to be here," the redhead began. "Our headmaster wanted some of his students to experience the customs of...another province. Almost everyone from our school wanted to come, but only four could be chosen, so the headmaster picked each of us for a different reason. I was selected since I'm the Head Girl, Lily Evans."

"She'll be Lily Potter soon enough," grinned the bespectacled one, earning a hard nudge from Lily. "I'm the Head Boy, James Potter. These are my best mates, Sirius Black: holder of the most detentions, but I'm a close second, and Remus Lupin: most mischievous prefect."

"What kind of names are Sirius and Remus?" taunted a pupil at the back of the room.

You hated to see people get made fun of even more than you loathed history, so you decided to show the prat up.

"Sirius means 'the dog star' in Latin and Remus was one of a pair of twins that were raised by a wolf," you shrewdly stated.

Right after you said this three things occurred at once: the smarmy student shut up, James and Sirius simultaneously remarked, "Appropriate" and Remus beamed at you, obviously impressed. You decided that you liked the last best.

"Anyway," the secretary addressed the new students. "Now that I've introduced you to all of your peers you can report to the class president, Bree, to get the schedules of your lessons."

"Thank you," replied Lily. The foursome exited and so, regretfully, the learning resumed. This time instead of gazing at the wall you daydreamed about the "mischievous prefect" you had just met. Mischievous prefect...Isn't that an oxy-moron?

~

"I have no idea what to wear!" Gabrielle cried in frustration.

You were at her flat every afternoon because she was your neighbour. That particular day she rummaged through her closet, attempting to choose an outfit to wear to the party Bree was throwing on Saturday to welcome the exchange students.

"Gabby, everything looks great on you," you told her truthfully. She had long, straight chestnut hair and a super-model figure that, though you two were inseparable, always made you slightly envious.

"Thanks, I know." Gabrielle's voice sounded muffled from inside the closet. "What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know if I'm going. I mean, the only reason I was invited is 'cause you're my best mate," you commented plainly. You weren't precisely unpopular, but you were not popular like Gabrielle was either. Her confident, social air incomprehensibly brought people to her; they wanted her to be accepting of them, thus she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. It made her arrogant occasionally, yet you were not bothered by that since she was such a loyal friend. You weren't shy, but you were more talkative within your own group of comrades then with all people in general.

She took her head out of the closet and gave you a pleading look. "You have to come. I wouldn't have as much fun without you."

"And there would be no one to keep you sober," you joked.

Gabrielle laughed. "So you'll come?"

"I reckon so."

"Goody!" Gabrielle hugged you comically.