Lucid Dreaming

A sudden noise awoke the red-haired girl. The wind had started up, whistling melancholy through the grass. She blinked and looked around, surprised to see herself here. She recognized the place...a wide field, it was barren of all life but dying yellow grass, stiffly bowing in the wind, hanging on by a mere thread. This was the moor on the other side of the Forbidden Forest.

She shook her head, and realized she'd been lying on a large, flat boulder. Of all the places to fall asleep, she thought irritably. It had not been too comfortable.

She stood up and stretched, shaking her black robes free of the dust that had plagued that wretched rock. Sighing, she set off down the hill. She knew exactly where she was going, without really knowing at all.

That was the funny thing about dreams. It was like reading a book you already knew by heart, but still being unsure of the ending.

---

James groaned, and rolled over in his bed.

He felt a pillow smack his face.

"Sirius!" he yelled, angry. But when he sat up, Sirius had gone.

Muttering to himself, he rolled off the bed, pulling on his socks and shoes.

He made his slow, tired way out of his dormitory and down to the Gryffindor common room. He sighed; Sirius wasn't here, either.

Well, there was only one thing left to do. James made his way down to the Great Hall, for breakfast.

---

"James, my boy!" he heard as he entered.

Oh no.

He gasped as Sirius caught him in a strong bear hug. Remus and Peter just looked on, sniggering.

Damn them.

"Sirius - you're - suffocating me - " he gasped. Sirius stepped back, a grin alighting on his face.

"No hard feelings about that pillow, eh, James?" he asked hesitantly, slapping his best friend on the back.

James grinned.

"What pillow?"

---

"Now, Minerva," Dumbledore cautioned Professor McGonagall.

"James Potter is a clever and capable student in all subjects but Charms," she said, looking at him severely. "He is the Head Boy, after all, Albus. We should take at least a small interest in his education."

Professor Flitwick nodded her consent.

"He's failing miserably," she squeaked.

Dumbledore paced the room.

"What do we suggest we do about it?" he asked them.

Professor McGonagall looked at him in surprise, taken aback. "Why, Albus, I would have thought it would be obvious."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I assure you I have no idea what you are going on about, Minerva."

"A tutor," she said. "We must get him a tutor."

"I agree," Professor Flitwick assented. "He certainly does need one," she added, looking thoughtful.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, still smiling. "I believe I know just the young lady."

---

She wasn't making very good headway against the brush. In fact, she was hardly making any headway at all. She had gotten away from the wasteland and into a scrubby forest of sorts. Mostly it was short shrubbery, with a few tall trees thrown in here and there.

She sighed, and continued whacking her way through. Today was not turning out to be a good day.

---

Lily Evans was sitting in the empty Charms classroom, waiting for him. Occasionally she tapped her foot. It had been nearly fifteen minutes, and she was tired of waiting for James Potter.

She had just stood up, ready to go to her common room, when he walked in.

"I - " started James, but he never finished, because he realized that instead of the brainy, frumpy Hufflepuff he had expected, he found himself looking at a red-haired girl with large eyes of an unusual color.

It was funny, how, at times like this, one notices strange things. Her eyes were perfect, the iris consisting of many shades of vibrant green, all fading into one another. If one imagined the green, green hills of Eire, and all their shades - those would be in her eyes. They were perfect but for one flaw. In her left eye, just below the pupil, there was a dark sliver of olive. Somehow, he loved it. It made her special, unique. Her red hair was thick, braided in a somewhat disorderly fashion down her back. A few wisps of red strayed from it, framing her face, her pale face with silky, crimson lips and a saucy upturned nose.

Yes, she was beautiful. But hers was a beauty that did not flaunt itself. She was like a simple, austere wildflower, lovely in its own right, but constantly overshadowed by the showy splendor of domesticated blossoms. All in all, James decided, having once really looked upon her face, you would never forget it. On the contrary, he might never have noticed her if he hadn't been so dreadful at Charms.

Suddenly, he realized he was staring, staring at a face he already knew by heart, though he had never bothered to take a second look at it before. His ears went pink.

"Er - I'm sorry I'm late, I -" he said, starting to explain, but she interrupted him.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Potter," she said, smiling. She sat down in a chair, and with a simple gesture of her long, slender hand, invited him to sit with her.

He sat down, and grinned.

"Before we start - one thing," he said.

"Yes?"

"Call me James."

---

The red-haired girl stopped in the middling of a clearing. She sat down.

I'm going the wrong way, she realized with a sudden, chilly conviction.

Uncertain, she looked around, her red hair, let loose from its braid, falling reckless about her shoulders. She lay back on the ground and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, a boy, a boy with black hair, came into the clearing as well, and sat by her. She smiled.

"Hello, James," she said softly. "I'm glad you found me."

"Hello, Lily. So am I," he said. And then kissed her.

---

"James Hector Potter!"

James stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere, anywhere but here, anywhere but somewhere Lily was.

This was their graduation day. He was wearing black robes with red trimming, in honor of Gryffindor. It was after the ceremony, and they were all milling about outside, drinking punch and laughing with friends.

"James!" This time the tone of speaker was much more demanding.

He turned around slowly

Courtney Schilling, the Head Girl, ran up to him and gave him a savage peck on the cheek.

"I am your girlfriend, James!" she hissed into his ear while pretending to give him a hug. "I have been your girlfriend for two years! You can't throw all that away for some - some Hufflepuff slut you barely even know!" He pulled away.

"You can't do this to me!" she threatened, louder.

James turned and started walking away.

"James Potter, you will pay for this!" she screeched. By this time all the students had gone quiet. Seeing that he had not responded. Courtney pulled on her long blond hair and screamed. Suddenly she turned to where a red-haired girl was standing, with yellow Hufflepuff trim on her black robes.

"And you, you wench!" she cried, a malicious smirk on her face. She walked swiftly towards the girl. She set her hands on the table, over the empty chair across from Lily, and leaned forward until Lily's face was a scant foot from her own. "You will pay as well!"

Lily stood, unabashedly meeting her gaze.

When Courtney finally realized that Lily was not going to break down and plead for mercy, she stomped her foot in rage and screamed again. Then she ran out of the Great Hall.

A few seconds after she left, hushed conversations started billowing through the crowded, and they became louder and louder, until finally everybody resumed their normal conversations again.

"Serves her right," muttered Thom, a Hufflepuff fourth year, to Lily. He had sidled up to her after the whole episode.

Lily grinned and ruffled his brown hair. "Now Thom - " she began.

"Yes yes, I know!" he interrupted sullenly. "She's probably been hurt very deeply and we must understand."

Lily smiled. Though she had chastised him, she couldn't help but feel pleased that Thom was such a staunch friend. In her third year he had been just a frightened, scared little boy away from his home, and she had rather adopted him. Now, almost five years later, she was much closer to him than she had ever been to Petunia. He was like the little brother she never had.

Disturbing her thoughts, Thom started talking of Quidditch, which was a subject he never seemed to tire of. He was the Seeker for Hufflepuff's team. And a darn good one, Lily thought, with a bit of pride, while she pretended to be interested in his rambling.

However, much as she loved Thom and listening to him, she could not help wondering where James had gone.

Little did she know it would be years before she saw him again.

---

The low shrubbery had gone; in its place was a lush carpet of green grass. A single figure, dressed in black with a shock of red hair, walked lonely between the great, tall trees. Slowly she pulled up a black hood to cover her head from the tears that were beginning to fall from the rueful wood, which had caught her mood.

The red-haired girl had grown into a red-haired woman.

And she had lost James.