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ghostofbambi

Hey, it’s ghostofbambi here. If you’re confused as to who I am, I’m the girl who’s been writing Lily for the last five months, and due to a lack of internet, I haven’t been as active on this LiveJournal or on the archives as I would have liked. However, since we’ve finally finished this story, I just wanted to leave a note for all of you guys who have been reading and reviewing this story from the start. This fic started out as a simple, nonsensical exercise for us and snowballed into something we’ve both invested such a lot of care and effort into. I have always loved the Lily/James fandom, but ever since I started writing this, I have grown to adore writing Lily, and feel a strange sort of protectiveness over her character, and a strong desire to do justice to her, which I feel like I have. Therefore, to all the writers out there who have canon-raped her in the past, I say this: Ha. Ha ha ha.

Anyway, enough of my blathering. I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as we enjoyed the writing process, because it really was awesome. And I want to thank each and every one of you for reading! It makes me so happy to read all the lovely comments and reviews, and I hope they keep coming! Thank you!

P.s. Special thanks to the real life Terry Heaney, and to Karl Pilkington, for being awesome. Yeah.

And also, I ruined Petunia’s wedding!!! Yes!! Even though Beatrice magically concealed my black eye, I performed my bridesmaid duties perfectly and sang the song without any mistakes, I still ruined her wedding because everyone in our family was more interested in my boyfriend than they were in her husband! Everybody in my extended family is in love with James, because James is handsome and funny and charming and Vernon is an obese walrus with a giant baguette up his arse. Even my fifty year old aunty Ivy, who has been married for thirty-two years, got sloshed and tried to get off with James because he is just that gorgeous! Nobody ever tries to get off with Vernon. A blind person wouldn’t try to get off with Vernon. Even Petunia doesn’t try to get off with Vernon, the fat old baboon! He burst into Petunia’s dressing room before the wedding this morning, sweating and shouting because, according to him, an angry looking stag was chasing him around the hotel garden where the wedding was held and stamped all over the roses. Nobody could find the stag, though, so everyone thinks that Vernon is demented. Ha. Ha ha ha.

I must stop writing now, and go find my boyfriend. My boyfriend, James Potter, who I am madly in love with and going to marry some day, even if his middle name is Oddjob. Huzzah!

---

It’s amazing. I’ve actually managed to make Lily Evans fall in love with me. I’ve been trying to accomplish this for ages, and now she loves me, and I love her, and she likes my friends, and my family and cat like her, and it couldn’t possibly get any better than this. If only the French were any good at bacon. Lily and I agree, they’re pants at it. Honestly. We need Algernon. Except he’s ill, and would probably sick up all over the bacon. Oh well. I’ve got more than enough to make up for it.

I can’t believe I ever thought I was a salmon. As is evident from Vernon’s ramblings today, I am quite clearly a devilishly handsome stag. If I were a salmon, Algernon would eat me, and then where would I be? Dead, that’s where. Stuck in my cat’s stomach. With rotten bacon. And even France is better than that.

---

I did it! Plan went massively awry, and we’ve both got black eyes, but it’s all right, because we’re in love!

When she came down for the dinner – alone, thankfully, so I didn’t have to deal with Booth or Wood – I Stunned her from under my Cloak. Unfortunately I tripped on said Cloak on my way to catch her, so she fell forward and hit her face on a bench. I pulled her under the Cloak, tried to heal her bruise, and then Apparated us to the Eiffel Tower. It would have gone much better if the fucking elevator hadn’t broken. I couldn’t very well magic it better because I’d put the Cloak away, and there were Muggles all around. Then Lily woke up while we were trapped, and she was hurt (physically) and confused.

I tried to explain my whole plan, of taking her to the top of the Eiffel Tower and confessing my love to her like I thought I was supposed to do, and then she punched me. Hard. In the face! Then I blurted out that I loved her. I tried to remember everything I’d written down, but I think I just kept going over the point about Terry Heaney. I must’ve done something right, though, because then she kissed me and told me she loved me back.

We’re back in the hotel hiding from her psycho sister who will kill us for ruining the rehearsal dinner, but I don’t much care because I love Lily Evans, and she loves me back, and everyone else can fuck off.

A/N: Only one more entry left!

Except right when she was about to Apparate off, I realized that there’s no question: I do love her. I was awake all last night, and it’s true.

I love that she feels safer sleeping with me because I want to protect her. I love that she goes out of her way to tell me how handsome I am, and I love how she gets obsessed with people’s birthday presents. I love how she will do anything for her friends (she let Terry Heaney touch her feet – the ultimate sacrifice). I love that even though she doesn’t like Snape anymore, she still protects him. I love that she is strong enough to live through dead parents, a bitch of a sister, and murder attempts, and still be able to laugh when I complain that I can’t raise one eyebrow. I love that she won’t sleep with me out of principle. I love the way she teases me, the way she treats my cat, the way she tries to get along with my mates, the way she can’t control herself around me, the way she argues with anyone she thinks is wrong, everything. I love her.

I love Lily Evans.

I have to tell her.

She’s in France.

Surrounded by smarmy French blokes. Who speak that damned sexy French.

Shit! I’ve got to go to France and tell her before some French bloke can tell her the same in seven different languages!

---

I’m in France, in a room on my own because my evil bitch sister, (who is pretending to be really nice to me in front of the family because she is an idiot, everyone knows that we despise each other) deliberately booked Beatrice and Emily into one room and me into another. They said they’re both going to sleep with me tonight regardless, and are down at the bar getting Cokes and giving me space. Since I woke up this morning feebly hoping that James might just mention something about the bathroom incident, I delayed leaving James’s house until pretty late this evening. He didn’t say a word to me because he is a coward and doesn’t love me. I will be expecting an awkward breakup letter any day now.

I arrived at Little Whinging to find Psycho Petunia hovering at the door with a bunch of flowers in one hand and a veil in the other, crying because some placemats are cobalt blue instead of cerulean. Aunty Ivy grabbed me by the arm before I could say a word and practically stuffed me into a sky blue bridesmaid dress that I actually look pretty good in, because heaven knows what disaster would strike if we got to France and discovered that it was one millimeter too big for me! I was thus manhandled in this way until Bea and Emily showed up a half hour later. I fooled them into thinking I was perfectly happy for ages, right up until we were on the plane and a little boy with black hair stood up on his chair, pulled his trousers down and urinated all over his mother. I burst into tears, and Emily and Beatrice were on hand with tissues at once, probably both thinking that I had finally lost it. I explained the whole, sad story to them and they are both being lovely. Emily is sure that he’s going to show up at any minute and declare his love for me, and Beatrice has advised me to write him a scathing breakup letter before he can do it, and then carve his heart out while he sleeps. She has turned into a vicious man-hater, and I love her for it.

Tomorrow is the rehearsal dinner, and then I have to go over my song with the pianist. I don’t want to sing some stupid song about happy people who love each other. I may hack out my voice-box instead. I hate James. I’m going to get ridiculously sloshed drunk and tell everyone at Petunia’s wedding what his middle name is. I don’t care if nobody here knows him because it will make me feel better. Then I’ll marry Snape, just to piss him off. And then I’ll jump off the Eiffel Tower and die!

Oh.

Fuck.

Have fucked up. Have really, really fucked up. I wanted to wash my hair this morning, and Odette suggested that I use the big bath in James’s bathroom (the spoiled brat has his own sodding bathroom, I hate him!) instead of the old shower in the main one, so I did. Only the hot water doesn’t work unless you twiddle the tap in a certain way, so James, who had the day off work, came in while I was wrapped in my towel to help me. And this, diary, is what happened next:

James: I’ll show you how to use the hot tap because it’s a bit dodgy. I brought you a cup of tea, as well. You’ve got really nice legs, by the way.

Me: I love you, James.

He didn’t say anything, and merely stared at me as if I’d just taken a machete from under my towel and threatened to end his life. After about twenty excruciating seconds, I screamed at him for being rude enough to charge unannounced into the bathroom when I could have been naked and was about to shove him out the door when he did the sensible thing and ran of his own accord. He wouldn’t even look at me through lunch and dinner, and I didn’t see him at all in between. He’s avoiding me because I’ve scared the shit out of him and he now wants to dump with me and get off with Isabella Marks, who is obviously into sex with no commitment and doesn’t have flabby hips like I do.

So that leaves me here, hiding in my room with the door locked, anxiously stuffing handfuls of stale treacle tart into my face and muttering to myself. What happened to my self respect and conviction that James Potter would never be good enough for me? Since when would Lily Evans ever say she loved any guy before they said it first? When did I turn into a blubbering wretch? I’m a complete mess, and deserve to be stoned to death by a gaggle of strong-willed, successful career women for letting down their kind.

I’m going to ask Odette to Transfigure me into a spider and stand on me in her leopard print stilettos. If that doesn’t work, I’ll jump off the roof. And die!

---

She loves me.

Lily Evans told me, quite calmly and wearing nothing but a bath towel, that she loves me.

I ran, naturally. What else could I do? This was not expected at all. I think a bit of me’s always believed she’ll realize how much better than me she is and leave me. Except now she loves me. I’m pretty sure I love her. I mean, I haven’t sat around and thought about it that much, but, you know, I certainly like her more than any other woman.

On my way out of the house, I bumped into Sirius. I kept my cool and told him I was going out for a nighttime stroll. In the rain. He rolled his eyes and went on his way. I ended up in the greenhouse because I forgot I hate being wet. Dad came in and found me a while later. Apparently when Sirius told him I’d gone for a walk, he suspected something. He knows about my secret passionate loathing of rain. He also saw Lily being a bit mental and thought I was to blame. I ended up confessing the whole bathroom affair to him. Conveniently, he didn’t have much advice. All he said was it’s up to me to figure things out from here. I’m the only one who can decide if I love her, or if I want to marry her, or anything like that. The only useful thing he said was to go after her if I did love her, which is stupid, because why wouldn’t I?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

James (Oddjob!) came in from work while Sirius and I were talking and looked a bit freaked out when he saw us laughing together. Almost envious, actually. James has some serious jealousy issues. I think his mother has damaged him mentally.

---

Work was boring as fuck today because Sirius refused to come along. He’s tired of doing my job for me. Really I think it’s because Mindy’s taken a shine to him and won’t leave him alone. It’s dead funny. He doesn’t like that I laugh, I know, but he knows if I were in his position, he’d laugh his arse off. I know Sirius. He’s my best mate. Which is why I was surprised to come home and find him hanging about with Lily. It’s a good thing. It is. And I am happy about it. Really. Makes my life easier, not having to mediate between them.

Letter from Peter today. There’s a nice girl in his town he fancies. He’s promised she seems perfectly normal. I’m not sure how much I trust his judgment. He still fancied Helena Hodge even after she’d cheated on him. Still, not much I can do from home. Or at least nothing I can be arsed to do.

Algernon is not doing any better. I can’t believe I poisoned my cat. Sirius and Lily think it’s hysterical. They told me so. Together. Ugh. I’m turning into my mother. Next I’ll be Transfiguring people for crossing me.

Oh.

Fuck.  

Oh, fuck it all. Lily knows my middle name. Now she’ll never marry me. I’m feeling salmon-esque again. Inviting her over has turned out to be a huge mistake. She promised she wouldn’t tell Sirius. Still, this is the most embarrassing thing my mother has ever done. Well, it was, until today when I confronted her and she told me the truth about Algernon. She wanted, apparently, to prove it wasn’t the worst thing she could’ve told Lily. Except then she told both of us anyway.

All these years she’s told me she looked for months for the bravest, most intelligent cat she could find. She told me he was purebred, trained from infancy. Right in front of Lily, she told me the gruesome truth. She had the audacity to forget my birthday, and when she realized her error, she grabbed a stray cat off the street.

I don’t love Algernon any less, of course. It’s just rude that my mother would lie to me. Not at all surprising, though. To make up for my mother’s idiocy and Lily’s laughter, I made Algernon the nicest bacon sandwich ever. And then he went and sicked it up. Dead ungrateful.

---

Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha! I adore James’s mother. She is a comic genius without realizing it. I have also gathered that she likes me quite a lot, as she’s always pulling me aside to tell me secrets about James, and complimenting my looks. Today, after James ran from the room in a fit of anger that I don’t understand, because I’ve had Algernon pegged as a stray from the very first moment I saw him, she started asking me about our ‘upcoming’ nuptials again. I told her that I didn’t think James and I would get married, but she said that we definitely would, that we’ve both spoiled the other for life, and that it’s tough tits if I don’t like being in love with her son. Surprisingly, but probably because the last few days have driven me completely mad, I ended up admitting that I love him. She was very pleased, promised not to tell him, and left the room muttering something about ‘not needing that potion after all.’

James gave Algernon a sandwich with gone off bacon in it. He’s very depressed in his room. I should go in there and give him a cuddle, or something. Nothing more physical than that, though, because Odette would probably burst through the door with a camera in one hand and a wedding dress in the other. What a great addition to album eighteen that photo would make, eh?