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january 7th, 1977
𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄. People do not notice girls like her because there was something so crucially ordinary about her being, she told herself this is exactly what she admires. A quiet life with love as solace. However... there came a time where even silent and satisfied Lori began to yearn for something more—wishing that the best parts of her personality were not buried underneath the waves of a wrathful sea and others would be able to see through her; find something that makes her worthy of commitment.
There was a time she would wait by the door as a little kid for her mother, feeling that serious crippling pain in her heart all whilst her mother treated her as though her daughter was dead. Not to say there was any crude and violent words exchanged, it was the notably underground hints that Leia Madden did not bother to contact her.
Something that ignited a spart of difference in the way Lori saw herself — as though she did not exist. After all, if one becomes a mere phantom in their mother's eyes, they must be nothing to the world.
All in between the haze of heartache and overthinking, her parents finalised their divorce papers. Maybe it was because her parents never really told her why they were separating, whatever the reasoning was, Lori's bitterness towards the world has greatly deepened.
Perhaps, all that overthinking that is rotting her very intelligent brain is what caused her to question what led James Potter to hand-pick her out of the crowd, ask her for a favour.
"What did Potter want from you," Tara Maleek asked. Currently, she was doing push-ups on the floor of their dorm-room as an exercise. Tara was very serious about Quidditch, and their match against Slytherin was a way to confirm their place in the finale. Tara also performed her roles as a captain as though she took an oath.
"Let's say he needed a favour, so he owes me one," Lori answered truthfully, laying down on her bed and watching Tara exercise relentlessly, "guess what I asked for?"
In hindsight, it would not be a great idea to tell Tara that she has asked assistance in Quidditch from James Potter and not her own best friend; the girl would have a heart attack.
"A win in the next match, obviously," Tara stopped her push-ups, giving her best friend an a wide-eyed look. Her long, shining black hair was pulled into a tight bun, and forehead glistening with sweat from her work-out.
