curiosity-killed-the-speedster: Could you do a one shot where you and Dick Grayson used to be best friends, but you moved to a different country…. World: Young Justice Genre: Drama Words: 1,204
Moving sucks. It’s not because you have to live in an unfamiliar place, like the UK with its different surroundings and new people. No. It sucks because of the things you left behind—your house, your memories, and your friends.
Your parents told you it’ll be like Gotham, with its weather and population, but more colorful. But you didn’t want their red, blue, and white. You just wanted the black and blue soaring high on the trapeze.
Five years later, you’re finally back in Gotham, but it’s not your Gotham anymore. The air seems heavier. Mob bosses were replaced by lunatic terrorists. And a Bat, in full black, soars through the dark skies whenever the city’s in danger. It’s not the black and blue you came home for. In fact, after three weeks you couldn’t even find them. The circus moved on and there was no one to ask where.
Instead of daydreaming about following them, where ever they may be, you thought about him. His soft black hair that gets tossed when he laughs, his bright blue eyes that smiled with his lips, and his incessant chuckles that are always contagious. And it made the sadness worst. That’s when you got the craziest idea in your life. You decided to make your own black and blue costume and turn Gotham into your circus tent!
Her favourite subject was Charms, because it was everything she had hoped magic to be when she started talking to Sev when she was little. All the most fun, explosive, frivolous parts of learning. Charms allowed her to turn her dormitory walls to sunshine yellow, and change Dorcas’s eyebrows to match when she attempted to spell them back to crimson. Charms allowed her to make a bottle rocket that shot up twenty times higher than any muggle one. It landed just short of the Black Lake and catapulted into one Jack Hiddledew who didn’t take too kindly to being soaked in freezing January lake water.
Potions was Sev’s forte, but she was pretty good too. She liked the methodical nature of it all, chopping and dicing and stirring and turning the flame to just the right heat. It was sort of like the muggle cooking she did back at home with Mum, except with more chance of blowing up half the room if something went wrong. Remus actually did blow up half the dungeon in third year, but Lily suspected that was less to do with a lack of prowess on his part and more an act of sabotage. She turned a blind eye to it though. Remus and his friends were more than capable of handling themselves around Sev.
Transfiguration was a doozy. On the one hand Mcgonagall was probably the best teacher she had ever come across ever. On the other, how could she put this lightly? She was monumentally Crap at it. Severus tried to help her out but she could never wrap her head around what he was doing differently, and then they both got frustrated with it all and gave up. Potter saw her struggling once in the common room and lightly talked her through the wrist movement before spotting Peter and launching himself in his direction. It took a while to swallow her pride, but getting tutored by Potter landed her an E in OWLs.
Defense could either be freaking amazing, or dreadful, and it was dependant entirely on which teacher they got that particular year. The Gryffindor-Slytherin class of Lily’s year got used to watching the antics of James and his mates each September while they broke in the newbie with perimeter contained dungbombs that only gassed out the teacher’s desk, and other general nuisancery. Sev didn’t find it all that funny, so Lily had learnt to hide her laughter. Nothing was stopping her in sixth year though, so she high fived Remus and flashed Potter a grin when they turned the toupe of a particularly nasty professor into a squirrel which sat sedately on his head for nine minutes before he tried to scratch his scalp and it clawed its way down his robes.
History of Magic was fascinating to anybody who could resist the lulling monotone drone of Professor Binns. Lily, it transpired, was not one of those people. This particular class became a prime napping hour, except in fifth year, when Sirius and Peter snagged the desk directly behind her. They reached her limit when they mistakenly dumped half a bottle of colour changing ink on her head. Her hair flashed fluorescent yellow, pink and green for two weeks afterward. She got her revenge by charming Sirius bald. Any attempts by James, and then Pomfrey, to spell his locks back resulted in a curly orange afro, so Sirius was resigned to letting it grow out at snail’s pace. Lily didn’t miss Flitwick’s smirk of pride when he saw.
She got partnered with Potter in Herbology for four whole years. Four whole years of getting his arm detangled from Constricting Copernicia and dodging swipes from Bludgeoning Bulbinella when James couldn’t help himself from poking its pustules with his wand despite Sprouts dire warnings. Both of them took it for NEWTs, to supplement Potions, but at NEWT level the work was largely independent. This didn’t stop them, however, from doing some extra credit together and raising a Pernicious Petroselinium from a seedling. Pomfrey lauded them for it was an invaluable ingredient in healing. Lily and James found another use for it. They were the only two Gryffindor sixth years to wake up on April 1st without purple vines binding them to their beds.