chapter one, every day is like a battle!

december 20th, 1976

      "𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒?" There was nothing Lori resented more than spending one of the most illuminated days of the year with none other than his father's friends. Sixteen year old Lori Lantsov did not have much to live for in life, she preferred being situated in a still ice cube where nothing out of ordinary takes place in her day-to-day life.

The young girl grew a monstrous loathing for change, and anything out-of-order in that matter. How amazing would it be if only—? If the Marauders were not present to cause havoc all around, bringing chaos to Hogwarts' otherwise peaceful life.

"You can finally make a friend that is not that hot-headed girl you hang out with." Her father used his fork to lazily point at her. Currently, they were having dinner and the man had just dropped a vicious bomb that left Lori's jaw hanging open and mind boggled.

The young girl threw her head back with an annoyed groan, staring up at the plain white ceiling and trying to find any way to talk her father out of this decision. Her father was very close friends with Fleamont and Euphemia Potter who urged his soft heart — Merlin bless that poor ol' heart — to spend Christmas with the family.

Lori glanced at the picture-perfect Lantsov family portrait that hung on the wall — not too enormous for it to be extravagant but a gold frame was attached around it, engraved roses decorating the outer edges. Her mother, Leia, is a well-named lawyer at some notorious Muggle firm; in the picture, she held a governed and punctual smile, one that somebody serious would wear at an interview.

      Her father, however, was a passionate man. He had some sort of goofy grin in the portrait, all teeth bearing out with hands swung over his family's shoulders as he stood in the middle. Lastly, Lori looked dull. Nothing about her appearance and clothes particularly struck anyone.

Lori found herself looking at her own figure very last, always, like everybody else.

Darius Lantsov drowned himself in art, so much bright coloured scattered across his life that Lori only managed to have the privilege of the murky splashes and nothing more. Her life was void of vibrancy, an omnipresent gloom hung over her shoulders.

"Tara is the sweetest," she mumbled, fiddling with the grilled tomatoes on her plate, "besides, anything is better than having to deal with the arrogance of James Potter — his almighty, pretentious behaviour."

"Hey, James is a good kid," her clueless father said rather confidently, "you used to get along so well—"

"When we were five."

"The kid was so good to you, he even gave you that little ring once, you remember — the poor lad used wires to make it, he got electrocuted slightly but if you recall that proud grin on his face," Darius let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, "you're practically engaged."

"With a ring I lost the day I got it?" Lori raised a brow, "as if I'd ever marry that narcissistic douchebag."

"Hey, we don't use insolent language in this house."

"Oh, please, that was some strange rule mum came up with and if she wanted me to follow her regulations, she should have stayed."

Darius' face fell, and a frown he tried so hard to suppress tugged at his lips. Unlike his daughter, he did not treat Leia's departure with bitterness, he was in crippling pain that he would always mask under those bright watercolours of his art set.

"Sorry, I just— uh... why can't we celebrate Christmas together, just you and I? Potter is my arch nemesis." Lori regretted her words the moment they tumbled out of her lips, and she was often sour without thinking matters through.

"That hatred only comes from Tara, and I realise that they are Quidditch competitors but you don't even play the game — speaking of," a grin was plastered on his face soon, and Lori looked away with a roll of her eyes, "it's never too late to join the team."

"Why would I waste my time on violence and risk my own death?" She asked irritably, "Dad, please, I don't want to spend Christmas all alone whilst you have a laugh with your friends, even worse, I'll be left alone with Potter bothering me. He's poison."

"How about we make a compromise?" Darius put his fork down, nodding at his stubborn daughter. "You and I spend Christmas together, and the day after, we invite my best friends over."

Lori squinted her eyes, and she got herself involved in some sort of staring contest with her father for a few seconds before giving in, "fine," said the girl.

A laugh sprouted from Darius' mouth at the girl's frown, "James is adorable and sweet, you should give him a chance."

"No, he isn't," she corrected, "he's turned Hogwarts into a living hell."

Now that Lori thinks about it, James Potter is very similar to Darius Lantsov. They both possessed the same toothy grin permanently, even at the worst of times. Darius had always been a trouble-maker, his popular tactics of not taking matters seriously and causing unwanted chaos was the something that drove Leia Lantsov away—

      Well, she changed her name back to Leia Madden, threw away her marital surname which made it even harder for Lori to even recognise her anymore. The woman idolised peace and quiet and maturity — and somehow, it took her twenty years to realise Darius and Lori were not the one.

Something that drove Lori crazy was the constant use of the phrase, 'you're so much like your mother, Lori!'. Pure, burning hatred for those words ignited in her soul. Lori did not want to be like her mother, she did not want to be someone who intends to break apart a family, leave her husband and teenage daughter crestfallen because she seemingly had a sudden epiphany about what she truly wanted in life.

      Perhaps there was a lack of understanding, perhaps she should appreciate her mother's perspective more, then again, she was a young teen left sour upon her entire world turning upside down.

"Hey," Darius clicked his fingers to catch his daughter's attention, "wipe that scowl off your face, let's have a peaceful dinner without cursing everyone off."

"Fine," Lori muttered. The source of that sourness had been her mother and she unintentionally found herself taking it off on her father who at least had the decency to stay. Maybe if she had been a better daughter, more attentive or caring, then maybe her mother would not have left. The marriage may have been unhappy just like so many marriages are (Lori idolises statistics), but still, if her mother had really loved her, then she would not have just left without so much as a tear staining her perfectly blushed cheeks.

✷

december 26th, 1976

      Mornings were chaotic at the Lantsov House. Chaotic, disordered, rushed, hectic. The golden light poured into the trailer through the open window, and the view was beautiful this time of day — the sun was beginning to peek over the trees, its pink and yellow hue bouncing off the windows. Not that any of them could enjoy it, though; the father-daughter duo were too busy running around the house like a group of lunatics.

Lori, in particular, was a mess. Her hair was tangled and her shirt was inside out. Floorboards creaking beneath her feet, the girl rushed down the hallway and in the direction of the bathroom. She rolled her eyes — her father was singing to himself in the mirror. "You've been here for an hour, will you move?" She nudged him, turning on the faucet.

Darius sent a mocking look in her way, "Comb your hair, I think there's a nest of birds in there." After earning an annoyed side eye from his daughter, Darius popped his toothbrush back in his mouth and exited the bathroom. He cringed when the smell of burning food immediately flooded his nostrils; there was smoke coming off the stove.

"Holy bloody Helga!" He rushed forward, grabbing the pan and fanning the smoke away with a towel, "if you're gonna make breakfast, maybe don't burn it!" He dumped the charred eggs into the trash can.

"SHIT!" Lori screamed from the bathroom, "Sorry, I forgot!" She rushed to the kitchen with a hairbrush stuck in her raven hair, slicking off the stove and prying open the nearest window.

As if on cue, the toaster popped. Darius set his toothbrush on the counter without a second thought and grabbed the toast, "Lori, come on!" He called.

"Five seconds!" She shouted, running towards the nearest mirror, fixing her ridiculous hair strands falling all over.

"We got tons of groceries to get," he snatched his keys from the coffee table, "Now, Lori!" He urged his daughter desperately, wanting the evening to go perfect.

Hopping and attempting to keep her balance, Lori pulled a sock onto her left foot. Shoving his wallet into his pocket, Darius opened the front door. "Let's go," he gestured outside, not bothering to look back at their trashed apartment one more time.

After her mother's sudden departure, Lori and Darius were forced to leave their enormous duplex house in the city to the West Country of England, a place reeking of boring and conventional. The people, the buildings — even the weather. Contrary to Lori's opinion, Darius was thrilled about their tiny apartment in Lavenham which was situated very close to his dear friends' home.

      All the houses looked so homely, and she suspected that most held the same sort of families. A working father, stay-at-home mother, and two or three well-behaved children; the kind of families that wore sweater vests and all ate breakfast together, talking of their plans for the day.

      And that's enough to prove to her that she and her father did not belong in that place. How could they? The disorderly duo, left by the woman in their lives and forced to move to the middle of batshit nowhere. It was almost comical — how little they resembled a normal family. That left enough room for people to gossip, and start to assume that Darius Lantsov is not a family man — he is divorced after all, with nothing but a terrible artist job at a cheap museum, not a man enough to keep his family together. Not proper enough to house a woman who is a senior partner at one of the best firms of London.

"Barbeque?" Darius suggested the tenth dinner item, wide eyes glinting with excitement as he turned to his tedious-filled daughter who pushed the shopping trolley, "alongside salad, or something." The girl was not paying any attention, not with Starman by David Bowie filling her ears. Darius waved a hand in her face which made her take her headphones off, "Hello? Earth to Lori? I asked what you think of barbeque?"

"Horrible idea, you'd take ten hours to prepare them only to end up burning the lot," Lori raised a brow, urging him to recall the chain of events that went down the last four times he tried to use the barbeque machine.

Darius sighed, "Pasta, eh? D'you reckon James will like that?"

"Sounds good to me, Potter would eat an alive cow if he's hungry," Lori shrugged, mindlessly putting her headphones back on to avoid the lecture coming from her father about being kinder.

When they were passing the snacks section, a familiar teenage rebel caught her attention. His body was clothed by loose jeans and a leather jacket, of course, accompanied by that cocky expression on his face. He was hovering his hands over an endless display of snacks.

"Black?" She called quietly, in a whisper whilst Darius busied himself with grabbing other items. Sirius darted his eyes and for a moment, he did not regard her and instead looked behind her, eyes searching for something meaningful. "Over here," she waved, speaking in an insolent tone.

"Oh," his mouth parted in recognition, and Lori found it utterly shocking that he did not recognise her (note the sarcasm), "You. You're Maleek's friend, I know you."

"Sure, you do," she squinted her eyes in Sirius Black's direction, carefully choosing her words to make sure he stays humbled, and his already sky-high ego does not grow, "what are you doing on this side of the country?"

"Staying over at the Potter's," he replied genuinely, and it caught her by shock. Sirius secretly looked around as though anybody would care to eavesdrop on their conversation, and leaned his towering figure a bit downwards, a grin plastered to his face, "guess what, my parents don't even know I left Hogwarts for Christmas."

"Wow, Black, you're so rebellious — I wish I could be like you." She spoke in monotone, tilting her head lightly.

"Watcha listening to?" He asked nonchalantly, poking his tongue into his cheek to look cool, "Classical music?"

"David Bowie."

"Ah," Sirius' irises glinted with sudden approval, "I dig your taste in music."

"And I dig your jacket." She felt obligated to return a compliment.

Sirius stepped back and he looked behind the shorter girl, his eyes on Lori's father now who stood there in utter confusion. "What is going on here?"

"Oh, good morning, sir, I'm a friend of your daughter's." Sirius regarded the man with an elegant smile and shook his hand. Darius did not believe it one bit, and looked at his daughter in a weird way. Lori did not have any friends except Tara.

"Really?" Darius arched a brow, sceptical "what's your name?"

"I'm Sirius, Mr..." he glanced at Lori whose lips were tugged to a smile, she knew there was no way Black could remember her name, and seemingly out of nowhere, Sirius grinned knowingly, turning to the man, "I'm currently staying over at the Potters, Mr Lantsov." Lori rolled her eyes, and Sirius was burning with pride, ego and satisfaction.

Darius nodded in recognition, "Right, you're the Black heir," a silence accumulated in the atmosphere as Lori cringed lightly, aware of the estranged relationship between Sirius and his family, although Sirius handled the situation with much grace and only smiled. "I don't know if you know but the Potter family is coming over at ours tonight, why don't you tag along?"

"I was told they would be visiting someone — I was hoping that I'd get to rule the Potter house all alone tonight," he said with humour, earning a breathy chuckle from Darius. Of course, James Potter never mentioned whose house he was going over to. Hell, he probably does not even know her name.

"Oh, come on, you have to join us!" Darius enthusiastically patted his back, earning an awkward, tight-lipped smile from Sirius, "Any friend of Lori's is welcome at ours."

"Friend is an exaggeration." Lori chimed in.

Sirius glanced shortly at Lori's scowl, and a grin tugged at his lips as he folded his arms, ignoring the glares and look of warnings radiating from the Ravenclaw, "you know what, Mr Lantsov? I will be delighted to accept your generous invitation — it would be my pleasure."

"Brilliant!" Darius beamed, holding Lori by her hand and dragging her away to complete the rest of their groceries.

"It was lovely to meet you, Mr Lantsov, and I cannot wait to come over for dinner!" Black called loudly, flailing his arms about. Lori turned around over her shoulder as her father kept his eyes trained forward, and she sent a deadly glare in the boy's direction. All she received in return was a flirtatious, mischievous grin from Sirius.

"He's such a polite kid," Darius told an annoyed Lori, "quite handsome, too."

"Dad, please, don't," she said, the guitar melody still ringing in her ears, "today's gonna be hell."

Darius halted on his steps and Lori followed suit, the shopping cart still gripped in his hands as he faced the girl, "Lori," he desperately said, "Look, I'm trying to make this experience the best I can, alright? Can you just... try? Make some friends so I don't have to worry — and believe me, I have many, many concerns. You've got to help me on this, love."

Lori saw the look on her face and gave in with a sigh, an exhale conducted from deep within her lungs, "Alright," she defeatedly said. It did not mean she was going to behave with Potter and Black, however, she will be researching her ways to surprise Darius and his poor heart with good news — Merlin, bless his optimistic soul. "I'll try."

Darius smiled widely at her mumbled words, throwing his arm over her shoulder, "you're my favourite daughter, you know that?"

"I'm your only daughter."

Lori so desperately tried to regard her father with a good nature because he deserved such tender treatment after everything he has been through. It had always been this father-daughter duo against the entire world, and sometimes, Lori failed to recall that she too needed to put the effort in.

      Perhaps it was insecurity that had risen within Lori, sure, she acted confident and collected in front of others but there was a constant gnawing at her consciousness, screaming about her flaws in her mother's voice. It had only grown after Leia's departure, leaving her to bury everything down to the depths of her soul in hopes that no one would see through her walls and into the lost and hopeless girl underneath.

𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

re-publishing this story only because I did not really like the few chapters from the older version. lacked a background. really hope you guys loved this chapter, and really, I have nothing to say but the fact I'm so excited!!

tough start. cannot wait to show you guys james x lori's dynamic. jori?