The Years We Were Alive: Year 1

Lost

January 10, 1972

Lizzie was having a good dream about being on the Quidditch team. She had never been very excited about sports before, but she had told J and will all about it. They were more interested in the rules than Lizzie had the capacity to explain though, so she mostly talked about what it was like to be on a broom.

"Wish I could be here for the new year, but I'm going to lose a couple of hours going back,"

"I'll see you at summer Lizzie!" J waved to her as she stepped into the fireplace and sent herself back to the Potters'.

"Oh, it's good to see you dear!" Mrs. Potter exclaimed before Lizzie had regained her vision, "did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, I did," Lizzie had a huge smile, "my brother is doing great!"

"I'm so glad to hear that," Mrs. Potter was still wearing that warm smile that Lizzie had gotten so used to.

"And! His dad offered to let me stay there, and my mom said yes," Lizzie beamed. She didn't think this was a worrying statement until Mrs. Potter looked at Mr. Potter with worry. There was still a bit of time before they had to get to King's Cross. Lizzie was miffed to learn that they would be apparating again.

"I think you should go pack, James," Mrs. Potter looked at her son. He nodded and went to his room. Lizzie's things were already packed from being with her brother.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Potter asked Lizzie. Sometimes she wished that he wore the same smile that Mrs. Potter did. Instead, he just looked concerned.

"Yeah, of course! I'm excited to be able to live with my brother and Will,"

"And you don't want to live with your mum?" Mrs. Potter sat down on the couch and motioned for Lizzie to follow suit.

"No, not really," Lizzie started looking down at her hands, "She loves me though, and I don't need you to worry about me,"

"You are wise beyond year years Lizzie," Mr. Potter sighed.

"I'm just," Lizzie was still staring at her hands. Her fingernails were bitten down to the quick, but they were always like that. She couldn't remember the last time they were long. She would paint the nubs of nails that were on her fingers. She had found that the paint stopped her from chewing them. She didn't finish her sentence.

"We care about you darling," Mrs. Potter was still looking at Lizzie, she could feel it. As she tore apart the skin around her fingernails, "if you ever need anything feel free to write to us,"

"Thanks," Lizzie wanted to leave that room and that house as quickly as possible. That was the first time she felt notably uncomfortable in the Potters' home, "but look, she doesn't like hurt me or anything, she's just got some issues,"

"We know dear,"

___

Before the marauders knew it, the term had started. Lizzie wasn't having any real problems with classes. She was a little confused about the grading system, however. She had known she was doing well all year, but she hadn't known the letter grades for anything.

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes?" the woman turned around to face Lizzie.