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Thursday, September 4th, Divination

Well, it's official.

I suppose I should be relieved in some way. I mean, the cat is officially out of the bag. It's off my shoulders. I no longer have to pretend.

Because now--thanks to my rubbish Transfiguration skills and my lovely friend, Mr. Chicken-Lizard--rather than just most of the Hogwarts population knowing that their Head Girl is a complete and utter fraud, the entire school knows.

This is a good thing, I swear.

Psh. Stupid wankers.

Breakfast was, to put it lightly, a complete and total disaster. It was bad. It was so bad.

It was humiliating.

Why can't they just leave me alone? Seriously. I mean, I know I'm a failure, I know I'm a fake, I know I'm perfectly dreadful and should be shipped off in a cardboard box to China where I'll be made into something plastic, but do they honestly have to rub it in? Can't they just leave it at that? Do they honestly have to talk about it all through breakfast in the most horrid form of whispering ever recorded? Do they honestly have to keep pointing at me, trying to be discreet, but failing miserably? DO THEY?

They're all bloody insane and that's all there is to it. Completely off their rockers, every last one of them. In fact, I plan to suggest that we take the entire school in for examinations at St. Mungo's because if one more person asks me if I've truly discovered a new species of chicken, I just may go on a killing spree and Merlin knows a whole lot of people are going to need psychiatric help after that.

I think I'm just better off living in Guam.

Seriously. No one in Guam expects you to be perfect. The people in Guam don't care if you're a wrongly chosen Head Girl or if you're completely horrid at Transfiguration. Nope. All they care about is whether or not you know how to make clothes out of coconuts.

Which I don't, but if it came down to that, I'd learn.

T minus: 12 hours until Mission: Tutoring commences

____________________________________________

Later, Charms

Rumor Count:
I've discovered a new animal species: 93
I've obtained a new possessed chicken from my mate, The Devil: 34
I have a new pet lizard that got sick and sprouted feathers and just happen to find his way into the Transfiguration classroom: 22
I'm a complete failure in life: 1 (Saunders)
There's nothing wrong with making a mistake: 2 (Grace and Emma)
Have no idea why they're laughing and talking about me, but they enjoy doing it anyway: The rest of the Hogwarts population.

Do you see what a ruckus I cause?

Guam, here I come.

T minus: 7 hours until M: Tutoring commences.

____________________________________________

Still Later, Dinner in the Great Hall

It is now exactly 7:18.

42 minutes until Mission: Tutoring commences.

Okay, make that 41 minutes.

Oh Merlin, I'm nervous. I know it's stupid and I shouldn't be worried, but I am. I don't even have what can be classified as butterflies in my stomach anymore. They're actually more like evil, flesh-eating vultures that enjoy feasting on my very sensitive internal organs now. I can't even enjoy my rice I'm so full of anxiety. Even looking over at my dear sweet Amos isn't helping!

And when Amos can't help, you know it's bad.

Merlin, what is wrong with me? I have to stop this. I have to calm down. This can't be good for my already fragile mental state. Breathe, Lily. Breathe.

Okay.

All right.

Calm.

Sort of.

What am I even nervous about, anyway? It's not as if I could do anything wrong in this little tutoring session. Potter already knows how horrid I am at Transfiguration, so I'm sure he's not exactly expected too much from me. And even if I do mess up dreadfully, it would be pretty hard to top the Chicken/Lizard incident. It just doesn't get much worse that.

So I have to stop stressing over this. After all, it's just Potter.

I mean James.

I mean...

Ugh. I don't know what I mean.

____________________________________________

Still Later, Still at Dinner in the Great Hall

I wonder what tutoring will be like.

Well, I mean, I know what it will be like, but I wonder what it will be like with him.

I don't know why I think it'll be any different because it's Potter/James doing the tutoring. It'll just be the same things that always go on in tutoring sessions-- he'll ask me questions and I'll stutter like an imbecile, making up answers because I don't know anything. He'll probably get a few good laughs off of that. My imbecile answers, I mean. He'll definitely find my stupidity amusing, stupid bloody wanker that he is...

I hate him.

I hate him so much.

You're not supposed to hate your tutor, are you? I mean, that's like against the Tutoring Code, isn't it? But I suppose I don't really hate him, hate him. I just... I... I hate what he's doing. I hate that he's making me worry like this. I hate that he had to go and try to be all nice and helpful instead of fulfilling my expectations and being an arse like he normally is-- or normally was, anyway. I'm not really sure what's going on with that. I guess I'm being a bit dramatic saying I hate him. It's really a lie. I don't think I hate anyone. I dislike certain people to a very large extent (i.e.: Elisabeth Saunders), but I don't hate them. After all, hating can give you incredibly bad karma, and I already have enough ridiculously bad karma of my own to deal with, I don't need any more. So I really have to stop taking out my nerves on my tutor.

But you know what? He hates me.

I mean, I know he insists that he doesn't, but you don't tease and annoy a girl like Potter/James annoyed me if you don't hate her. Because he could say and do some pretty dreadful things when he set his mind to it. So even if I did hate him, karma can't call me on that one, because he hates me. So it should definitely be okay that I'm having these hateful feelings towards Potter/James. My karma should just let it go, because our mutual hate evens out. It's balanced. Karma should embrace the balanceness.

Oh, Merlin. Now he has me contemplating my karma.

DOESN'T ANYONE CARE THAT I AM HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN OVER HERE? Over a TUTORING SESSION nevertheless? DOES ANYONE CARE?

God, I need therapy.

Or Guam.

Or both.

T minus- 33 minutes until Mission: Tutoring commences

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Still Later, 7th Year Girls Dormitory

I KNEW IT!

I BLOODY WELL KNEW IT!

I KNEW he was up to something!

Merlin, why am I so stupid? Why didn't I just run hard and fast in the opposite direction the second he started being so nice again? Why did I actually start to believe he was a decent human being?

WHY?!

I am by far the stupidest piece of human flesh ever procreated.

And James Potter is by far the BIGGEST, STUPIDEST, MEANEST GIT I'VE EVER MET!

I hate him.

And this time, I mean it. Screw stupid bloody bad karma, I hate him. I hate him so much I want to scream and cry at the same time.

I've NEVER in my ENTIRE LIFE been kicked out of ANYWHERE, much less a LIBRARY for something I didn't even do! I knew he wasn't being nice for no reason! I knew Grace was wrong! I knew there had to be some stupid, backwards scheme to make me feel like a complete fool!

Who am I kidding? I am a complete fool. Not even the people of Guam will want me now. Coconut designer or not, they'd never take me. I am by far the biggest, stupidest, most idiotic fool to ever walk this planet!

BUT WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO RUB IT IN MY FACE?

And you know what the worst part about the whole thing is? He actually had me believing that he had changed! I'll admit it. For the first forty minutes of the session, I was seriously starting to doubt the whole prank idea. I began to seriously consider Grace's explanation as truth. Maybe it wasn't what I thought. Maybe Potter (call him James? Ha! OVER MY DEAD BLOODY BODY!) wasn't lying. Maybe he didn't hate me. Maybe there was no prank. Maybe he was a decent human being. Maybe he'd changed when I hadn't noticed.

Psh.

Yeah.

Sure.

I should have just stuck with my original instincts. I should have never believed him.

I AM SO STUPID!!!

But who could blame me for believing, really? The night had started out perfectly fine, after all. At precisely 8 o'clock, we'd met in the common room as planned. I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't surprised to find him there on time. I thought for sure that this disaster of an evening was going to start out with him arriving a half-hour late, a useless excuse as his explanation, but that just wasn't the case. He was actually on time. I had wondered why the normally late Potter was finally being punctual, but didn't ask. Now, of course, I understand why. He just couldn't wait to make a fool out of me.

Stupid anxious bastard.

"Hey," he'd greeted me causally, waving his hand slightly as I made my way over to the table he'd been sitting at. I hated the way he was so carefree when there I was, just few feet away from him, dying of nerves and practically sick with anxiety. Life can be so unkind sometimes.

With my stomach in my throat and my heart pounding uncomfortably in my chest, I tried to respond with an equally as casual greeting, but failed miserably when the only sound I seemed to be able to produce was this helpless, high-pitched squeaking noise that sounded more like a sob than any actual word. Potter grinned at my squeak, causing me to blush furiously, completely mortified.

After that, it's pretty easy to understand why I didn't attempt to speak again.

"So, the library, then?" Potter asked, still grinning slightly at my red-tinted face. I nodded in consent, still not trusting my voice enough to try again.

But it unfortunately wasn't my vocal chords that were causing my silence as Potter and I walked through the corridors towards the library. It was him. James Potter had caused me to get tongue-tied... er, again. I don't know why I couldn't speak to him, though. I mean, all the time we were walking, he attempted to keep up this one-sided conversation about school which I could've jumped into at any given point, but for the life of me I couldn't get a single ruddy word out. I just walked along beside him, nodding my head like the imbecile that I am, listening to him chatter on. Worse, I think he knew he had caused me to get tongue-tied. I bet he was just dying to laugh the entire time. I bet he was just reveling in the fact that he would soon have me in an even worse state of embarrassment. I bet he just LOVED that.

It seemed like forever when we finally found our way into the library. It was actually surprisingly full for a Wednesday night--which, you know what, he probably planned as well. I mean, the more people, the more humiliation for Lily Evans, right? He was probably selling tickets and making money off of the whole damn thing! Do YOU want to see Lily Evans make a fool out of herself YET AGAIN? Well, then STEP RIGHT UP AND GET YOUR FRONT ROW SEATS!

And this entire time, I had no idea he was planning this. In fact, I was actually quite relieved. He was being perfectly nice. Not saying that this niceness didn't make me nervous as well, but it did make the prospect of sitting with him for the next hour a bit more tolerable.

"Let's take that table back there," Potter had said, pointing out a table towards the back of the library. It was in a secluded area, covered by many bookshelves. Those damned ticket buyers must have been upset because of the blocked view. They'd only get the after-effect. Pity.

"Okay," was the first thing I'd muttered all night. I followed him towards the table, taking the seat across from him. He seemed relaxed, lounging back in his chair, a smile plastered on his face (yes, the one that I USED to like. Not any more. The dirty bastard), watching me. I sat there, stick straight, unsure of what to do.

"Don't you think we should get started?" I'd said rather harshly a few moments later. At the time I'd felt a bit guilty for my tone, considering he'd recently been nothing but nice to me, but now I'm glad I could wipe that smile off his bloody face, even if it was just for that second.

"Uh--yeah. Sure. Let's get started."

He started shuffling through his stuff, pulling out textbooks and other large, scary-looking Transfiguration books. My stomach dropped at the sight of them. Instantly, I knew this was going to be bad. I just didn't know HOW bad it would eventually get.

And then, after bringing out all those scary, intimidating books that made me want to dig my grave and bury myself right then and there, he brought out our REAL lesson tool. Do you know what it was?

A paperclip.

"This," he said, holding the paperclip up to my face, "will be our lesson today."

This will be our lesson today.

A paperclip.

My mouth nearly fell open.

I stared at him, trying desperately not to scream-- or cry. I easily could've done either at that point. I thought he'd said he was going to take this seriously? No jokes, no tricks, no trying to be funny. I needed to be tutored and there he was, telling me that he was going to teach me Transfiguration with a paperclip? I was a bit ticked off to say the least.

"A paperclip?" I asked, trying to hold back the evident anger in my voice.

"A paperclip," he repeated, cracking another grin.

That's when I really got cross. I had no idea the bloke was actually being serious. I mean, come on, teaching a lesson with a paperclip? Who'd ever take something like that seriously? I thought he was just trying to be funny! I needed to be tutored and he was making a joke out of the entire thing!

"I thought you were going to be serious about this?" I snapped, not caring if my anger showed anymore. I was cross, and I made sure he knew it.

"I am being serious!" Potter protested, a look of befuddlement etching his face. I wanted to strangle him. At that point, all my hopes that the whole tutoring thing would actually work out all fell apart. Was this honestly the bloke that I had spent half-an-hour CRYING to yesterday? Had he even been LISTENING to ANYTHING I had blubbered on about? Didn't he comprehend how IMPORTANT this was to me? Could he possibly be THAT thick?

"Listen," I seethed, talking through clenched teeth, trying desperately to keep my voice low. Madame Pince was already looking our way and Merlin knows that woman has absolutely no patience. "I don't know if you were listening to me yesterday, but you obviously don't understand how important this is to me. If I don't pass Transfiguration, I'm in deep trouble and I know you may not care about that, but I am not going to sit here and listen to you rattle on about a bloody paperclip, wasting my time and wasting yours. So if you're not going to be serious about this, I might as well just go straight to McGonagall now, because I'm not going to fail Transfiguration just because you're not mature enough to handle this!"

By the time I was finished with my mini-rant, I was out of breath and flushed the colour of my hair. I was angry, I was embarrassed, and I was more than a little bit disappointed. I sat there, glaring at Potter through narrowed eyes. He, meanwhile, just sat there, staring at me as if I was speaking some sort of foreign language. This, of course, only made me more upset.

"But I AM being serious!" he insisted once again, this time without a smile.

I shook my head, holding back the barrage of angry words that were threatening to fall out of my mouth. I didn't want to hear it anymore. I was so sick of all his 'I'm serious, I'm serious' nonsense. A loud noise that sounded like something between a scream and a sigh escaped my mouth, earning a threatening "shhh!" from Madame Pince as I grabbed my things to leave. I had finally reached my breaking point.

"Lily, wait! Will you just wait a second?"

Potter grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaving the table. I fought against his grip, but as always, in a battle of strength, the odds were not in my favour. I really need to start working out or something. He began pushing me back down into the chair. I glared daggers at him. Naturally, it had no effect. "Just listen, will you?"

"You have five seconds," I spat out, not because I was actually interested in what he was going to say to defend himself, but because he was still pushing me down into the seat and I didn't have much of a choice.

"Fine!" He took a deep breath and stared straight at me, his eyes hard. "I am being serious. The paperclip... I know it may seem ridiculous, but it'll honestly help. You didn't seriously think that you were just going to come in here and instantly start transfiguring animals, did you? You'd never get anywhere that way! You have to start from the beginning. Start out easy and then progress. Hence, the paperclip. Understand, now?"

I sat there motionless, not wanting to think about what he'd just said, but doing it anyway. I guess it did make sense, starting from the beginning. Had I thought we were going to instantly start off transfiguring animals? Truth be told, yes, I had. I mean, that's what I needed help on, wasn't it? But as much as I hated to admit it, the blockhead was right. You CAN'T just start off with the hard stuff. You do have to start from the beginning. But a paperclip? I mean, that's like first year! I may be bad, but I'm not that bad. Still, I somehow found my previously over-the-edge anger transform itself into a large bout of embarrassment.

"Er, I'm... that is..." I tried to find the words, but couldn't. I hung my head and drooped lower into my seat. Potter removed the hand that had been keeping me held in place. He was right. I hated that. "I'm sorry," I finally forced out, though I despised saying it. "I thought...well, I just figured--"

"Doesn't matter." Potter waved off the apology that I had worked so hard to force out. "Just take out your wand. Let's get started."

And so, with nothing left to say on the matter, we began.

For the next ten minutes or so, I worked on the paperclip, changing it into different things and whatnot according to Potter's instructions. It wasn't hard. I KNEW how to do all those things. I mean, a first year could do most of those things. I may be stupid, and I may be a fraud, but ANYONE could have done the things I was doing. They were that easy.

"That's your problem," Potter had said, after I'd explained to him the stupidity of this simple exercise. "You can do all this properly because you know you can do it and you're confident about it. When you're transfiguring animals, you're probably concentrating just as hard as the next person, but unlike them, you're not confident. To truly transfigure something, you have to get rid of all your doubts. If you're thinking about all the things that could go wrong, it reduces your abilities and you mess up-- your wand flicks the wrong way or the words come out wrong. You have to believe you can do it before you actually can."

I wonder if he planned that whole little speech out beforehand, because let me tell you, it was convincing. I bet he stole it out of a textbook or one of those large, intimidating Transfiguration books he had brought, because when you think about it, that could so totally be my problem. Maybe, if I ever decide to speak to him again, I'll ask him which book he got it out of because I bet there's a whole lot of stuff in there that could help me. It's quite a shame that by the time I decide to speak to him again, he'll probably be dead.

And so we spent the majority of the session transfiguring different sized paper clips. First, small tiny ones, then larger ones, then even larger ones, and then, if you could imagine such a thing, EVEN larger ones. And just when you didn't think a paperclip could get any larger, Potter pulled out a large paperweight and we started working on that.

Stupid?

Yup.

Silly?

Most definitely.

Useless?

Surprisingly not.

I remorsefully have to admit that I think I laughed more tonight with Potter than I had ever in my life let myself laugh with any other bloke. I couldn't help it, though. I mean, he'd just do these ridiculous things or say something so stupid that I'd find myself laughing. He's a funny bloke when he's pretending to be nice. It's a curse.

You know, it's extremely odd how I could go and hate Potter for six years straight and then suddenly out of nowhere, start laughing it up with him and acting like he's just a normal mate or something. I mean, who DOES that? It's not as if someone can change overnight. What was I thinking? I'm sure Potter was getting a real large kick out of my stupidity.

But anyway, as we sat (or stood occasionally) transfiguring our paper clips and paperweights, laughing at random intervals, Potter came to find that he had left one of his precious textbooks in his dorm, so he insisted that he'd quickly go find another copy. Finding nothing at all suspicious with him going off to fetch a textbook, I nodded, giving him permission to leave.

And that's when it all came down.

You see, the normal, non-Potterized Lily would've instantly been suspicious of Potter leaving her alone and gallivanting throughout the library "looking for a book". However, this new Lily-- the one who had uncharacteristically been thinking Potter a decent human being-- didn't seem to comprehend that Potter is a dirty wanker and always has things up his sleeves. THIS Lily didn't understand that Potter plus Library Search equaled Big Fat Lie. Normal Lily would have understood this perfectly well, but according to my knowledgeable sources, she was vacationing somewhere in Guam, learning how to make clothes out of coconuts from the local Guamanians.

"I'll be back in a minute. Just keep practicing," Potter had said as he walked towards the various shelves of books, disappearing somewhere behind the Potions section. I paid his disappearance no mind as I sat there, fully engrossed in transfiguring a 40 gram paper weight, silently thinking that somehow Potter had completely changed without me knowing...

And then it hit me.

Literally.

It was wet.

It was wet, slimy, mushy and green. It was disgusting.

And I was COVERED in it.

And then, at that exact moment, while my brain was still trying to comprehend the large amount of green goop currently residing all over my body, Potter returns from his library search, obviously VERY amused.

And I honestly tried not to jump to conclusions. I'm serious. I was honestly trying to think of any way that this could all be a misunderstanding and that Potter really had nothing to do with it. I was trying to discover a way in which the "new" James Potter could be innocent. I was thinking all this up until I happen to spot the rest of the Marauders cracking up behind a bookshelf in the same direction Potter had just come from.

All of their hands were covered in green gloop.

Then it got bad.

When I looked back over at Potter, he was laughing. "What in Merlin's name did you do to yourself, Lily?"

Then-- yes, you guessed it.

Normal Lily came back from Guam.

"What did I do, Potter? WHAT DID I DO?! MERLIN, I thought you'd changed! I'd thought you'd GROWN UP! You are so... SO IMMATURE! I CAN'T BELIEVE--"

Now let me tell you, Normal Lily was not quite finished just then. In fact, I know for a fact that Normal Lily could've continued on ranting for a least a good three minutes or so more, but such was not the plan, for right about then, it seemed Madame Pince had had quite enough of all the noise.

"MISS EVANS! MR. POTTER! THIS IS A LIBRARY, NOT A DORMITORY! OUT! NOW! YOU ARE DISTURBING ALL OF THESE STUDENTS AND I WILL NOT HAVE IT ANY LONGER! OUT! BLACK! LUPIN! PETTIGREW! OUT, OUT, OUT!"

And so, with a mean glare at Potter and the rest of his crew, and a quick swipe of her books, Normal Lily left the library, completely embarrassed, utterly mortified and covered in some unidentified green substance. All of the Marauders were happy that their evil plan had worked and Madame Pince finally got her peace and quiet. And as for Normal Lily?

Well, who really cares about her anyway?

____________________________________________

Friday, September 5th, Divination

This is like the chicken-gone-bad incident all over again.

It seems that we Hogwarts students have yet to conquer the art of whispering and pointing discreetly. Even worse, it seems just about EVERYONE has heard of and/or seen the whole Big Green Goop Incident, and now finds it vital to discuss it with EVERY OTHER PERSON THEY HAVE EVER MET. But, you know what? I think I should be pleased. I mean, I've been the main topic of Hogwarts' grueling gossip mill for the past few days! Who wouldn't be happy about that instant popularity? AND (I think you'll get a real kick out of this one)--

He actually tried to talk to me this morning.

He being Potter.

Actually, he tried to talk to me three times.

The first time, I simply glared and walked away, Emma and Grace in tow, shooting glares of their own (after I told them about yesterday night, they are very cross with him as well. Mates are great that way, aren't they?). After that, I thought that he-- being the intelligent bloke he claims to be-- would pick up on the whole "don't talk to me" signal, but alas, no, this is James Potter we're talking about. We needed to go over it at least a dozen times in order for the information to process through his incredibly large, incredibly conceited head.

The second time, he tried to interrupt me when I was eating. That time, I shoved a piece of waffle into my mouth and ignored him again. He was rambling on about something or another, but I paid him no heed and just continued eating my waffles and drinking my pumpkin juice. Potter finally seemed to realise that I wasn't listening to a goshdarned word he was saying and left a few minutes later

And finally, the third time, as I was pouring myself some more juice, he came over and cornered me.

"Will you at least just listen to me for a second? It wasn't what--"

I was fed up, tired, and completely crabby, so I did what anyone else in my position would do...

I dumped the pitcher of pumpkin juice over his head.

Classy, I know.

____________________________________________

Later, Defense Against the Dark Arts

Someone really needs to give that child staring lessons.

I'm not kidding. If I weren't so cross with him, I'd have to force myself to volunteer to give them to him myself because he's just perfectly horrid at it. He's even worse than most of the first-years, and they're just about as bad as one can get.

He's completely disregarding the number one, most important rule of staring:

You're not supposed to let the person SEE you staring at them! I mean, that completely defeats the purpose of staring! THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU'RE LOOKING AT THEM!

And then, when they accidentally DO catch you staring at them, you're supposed to QUICKLY TURN AWAY. That's just how things are! You are NOT, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, supposed to start MOUTHING WORDS at them as if the person whom you're staring at (who is, by the way, located on the complete opposite side of the room) will actually understand what your saying. BECAUSE THEY CAN'T. Even if they WERE interested in what you had to say, THEY WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND YOU.

And WHILE you're mouthing these non-appropriate words, if your supposed victim starts glaring at you and giving you dirty faces because they are TRYING to concentrate on learning about the proper way to use a Acid Charm (even if they've done it more times than they can count) that generally means you should stop your non-existent chatter.

See what I mean? Horrible!

____________________________________________

Later, 7th Year Girls Dormitories

I'm too tired to write all that much. I've been doing homework for the past, oh I don't know, THREE HOURS, and have finally just threw in the towel.

What is WRONG with these professors, anyway? Don't they know that we have better things to do than write three-foot essays on the workings of the Renewal Potion? Can't they comprehend that no one CARES if Mars starts affecting Jupiter's moons?

And most importantly, do they CARE that while one particular student is involved in an endless fit of homework doing, this student may have to hear that her two over-trusting best mates think that she should listen to what a lying, cheating, bastard Head Boy has to say (even if they were completely on this said student's side earlier that morning)?

I truly just don't think they do.

____________________________________________

Saturday, September 6th, 7th Year Girls Dormitories

I've recently discovered that hiding in my bed with my blankets firmly placed around my body, doing my Potions Essay, is not such a bad way to keep away from taunting students and persistent bastards. It is, actually, quite an effective way of hiding from the Hogwarts population. Well, except for Saunders, who's probably the worse out of them all, but she's not here. She's probably off doing her social "I-Have-A-Life" things, so she can't invade my haven.

Grace is here, though. She says that I'm just being a coward and that I should go talk to Potter. Yeah, I'm sure. What happened to being on MY side, Gracie? What happened to being MY MATE? Who cares if she is also HIS mate? I'M her BEST MATE. Does that count for nothing?

She's just too trusting, that one.

We've also seemed to have lost Emma. When I woke up this morning, her bed was empty. I figured she was probably off in the library or maybe taking a shower, but that was nearly five hours ago, and she has yet to turn up. Grace says that she's probably off having a secret love affair (she was reading one of her romance novels at the time). I say that she's doing something good for mankind, like discovering a cure for cancer or tutoring a helpless student or possibly retrieving a large bowl of rice for her depressed mate who is currently hiding in her bed so that certain stupid Head Boys won't come and harass her. Grace says I have to stop throwing myself pity parties and get my own goddamned rice. I inform her that she is no longer my mate.

But no matter what Emma's doing, I'm not too worried. She's a big girl, after all. She can take care of herself.

Though I do hope she's fetching me some rice.

____________________________________________

Later, still hiding in the 7th Year Girls Dormitories

No Emma. No rice. However, on the bright side of things, a finished Potions essay. I'm now moving on to Divination. Jupiter and Mars, here I come.

Things just MAY be looking up for me.

____________________________________________

Sunday, September 7th, 7th Year Girls Dormitories

Emma has gone missing again. She came back yesterday at dinner, insisting that she'd been in the library all day (yeah, no rice) and now she's gone again. What could possibly be so interesting in the LIBRARY? It's a bloody rotten place, and I'm not just saying that because I have recently acquired a rather large bolt of hatred for the place. I mean, it's big, it's dusty, and it gives a group of troublemakers a clear shot at innocent victims. So again I ask, what's so good about it anyway?

I've finished my Divination homework. I think Lily-of-7th-year may just be taking at whack at being Lily-of-5th-year for a while. Lily-of-5th-year did her homework all the time. She was a nice girl, that Lily-of-5th-year. So I supposed I'll be her for a while.

Just without the library visits.

____________________________________________

Monday, September 8th, Potions

Once again I was awoken at 7 a.m. by the girl formally known as my mate (who is now not lost).

I really do think that she didn't understand me when I went through the whole "no waking Lily until breakfast has been going on for at least an hour" speech. If she had, I definitely would've had at least an extra half-hour of sleep. You don't know what a good half-hour of sleep can do for an ordinary girl like me. You can do a lot of things in a half hour.

"What is the main ingredient in a Renewal Potion, Evans?" Professor Abbott has just asked me. She probably thinks that I don't know the answer, but low and behold, I DID do my essay last night, and I DO know the answer.

"Knotgrass, Professor," I answer, succeeding on keeping the completely smug tone that's dying to come out, out of my voice.

"Correct. Five points from Gryffindor for not looking at the Professor when being addressed to."

I just can't win with her, can I?

____________________________________________

Later, Double Charms

Oh, god. What an idiot.

Does he honestly think that throwing ball-shaped projectiles towards my head is going to get me to talk to him? What is WRONG with this kid? Is he seriously THAT ill? Does he seriously believe that small balls of parchment being thrown in the direction of my face will somehow make him appear a better person?

Therapy!

This whole school needs therapy!

____________________________________________

Later, Still in Double Potions

I'm guilty, I admit it.

I finally got fed up and started throwing ball-shaped projectiles over my shoulder and back at HIS head. I couldn't help it. It was driving me MAD. But I think I understand why he's doing it now. I must say, for a tremendously stupid waste of parchment, it's wicked fun.

I wonder if he's made a game out of it, as well. I know I sure have. I already have 70 points, seeing how I hit him in the nose four times. For such an ordinary girl, I DO have rather extraordinary aim.

Grace is so obviously trying to keep her laughter back as I chuck another ball over my shoulder. She says I got him in the chin that time. 3 points.

"Will you two stop? You're going to get in trouble! Pay attention!" Emma has just hissed in our direction. I just think she's just bitter because Potter hit her with one of his balls a while ago. Quidditch Chaser or not, he obviously just doesn't have the great aim that I do.

Damn! He got my ear again. Grace grabs his ball and stuffs it in her bag. She's done that with all of them. I have no clue why. Maybe she's preserving ammo.

Uh-oh.

"Miss Evans, if you and Mr. Potter can please refrain from throwing paper at each other, can I please get on with my lesson?"

Flitwick does not look happy. The class is laughing. I'm blushing. What else is new?

____________________________________________

Still Later, 7th Year Girls Dormitory

I've discovered why Grace kept all of Potter's ammo. It turns out, he wasn't just throwing ball-shaped projectiles in my direction for fun.

They were notes.

Who'd 'a thunk it, huh?

Please just listen to me.

If you'll just let me explain, I can tell you what happened!

At least write SOMETHING back.

Can you quit throwing these things in my eyes? The desk seems like a perfectly fine landing zone!

Are you even READING these?

Lily!

Go on, say it. I'm an idiot.

Though, I am an idiot who had fun.