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Prologue: 10 Ways To Describe James Potter
Four lattés, two mochas, five scones and three hours later Lily was still waiting. And instead for feeling happy she was goddamn mad. But she wasn’t going to leave. Oh, hell no! She was going to rack up a bill for the poor bastard. This thought was a comforting one and should have substantially decreased her anger but due to a great intake of caffeine and a body full of raging hormones she was still seething.
‘So,’ he said, leaning towards me. ‘What do you say? Want to go out with me?’ I let out an exasperated shriek then, noticing the stairs were unguarded, catapulted myself out of my chair and sprinted towards the stairs. Must. Get. To. Stairs. Must. Beat. Potter. Note to self: make Potter PAY.
Oh well. Severus isn’t exactly what you call polite to me, so I don’t see why I have to be polite to him. Except for the fact that what Potter was doing to him was inhumane and completely wrong.
There was a small circle in the middle of the crowd, so I pushed and shoved my way into. My eyes soaked up the scene. James Potter, strapped to a wooden wheel that obviously span. Sirius Black, standing next to the next to the wheel, his face bright with morbid happiness. Aurora Hastings, official best friend of mine, standing next to Black, a worried look gracing her pretty features. Remus Lupin, blindfolded and holding a knife, aiming at James on the wheel. Peter Pettigrew, standing by a small table that was piled up with knives, tomatoes, sweating like a fountain.
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