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Friday, September 12, Breakfast in the Great Hall

I think it's safe to say that, as of this moment, I am officially, completely and utterly fed up.

I just can't take it anymore. He's driving me mad.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND!

WHY IS HE ANGRY WITH ME?

I'm not supposed to care, but for some reason I do. I know that I really should just ignore him and get on with it, but how can I possibly go on with my everyday life when every time I turn around, there he is, glaring at me or giving me the dirtiest of looks? I just can't. I'm only one girl. I can't handle it all.

Never before have I felt more like a despicable rodent who should be efficiently crushed and dropped off in the rubbish bin. Those looks...

And I don't even deserve any of them! I didn't do anything! What's wrong with him? Does he honestly feel it necessary to make me feel this way? And really, when you think about it, I'm the one who's supposed to be angry. But you don't see me spouting off nasty looks like a four-year-old!

There's something called maturity, and James Potter obviously just does not have it.

This is ridiculous. It's just stupid. It's ridiculous, it's stupid, it's silly and I DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT ANYMORE! PEOPLE ARE STARTING TO STARE!

I really do detest my life.

No, not my life. I detest James Potter. I detest James Potter because he ruins my life.

__________________

Still Later, Herbology

Dear Merlin, not again!

This is really starting to get me annoyed. I mean, I know I had my parchment this morning. There is absolutely no doubting it. I was doodling on it during breakfast! And doodles, they just don't walk away, you know! Even the really good ones. Take for example, that one of the flobberworm I did during Care of Magical Creatures last term. Now that was a spiffy doodle. I mean, it just radiated the immense boringness and stupidity that is the flobberworm. So see? Even that doodle--which, by the way, was just so much better than the actual thing--couldn't suddenly spring to life and lose itself. It's just not possible.

Considering this, I've simply come to the most plausible conclusion: somebody's stolen it.

Yes, somebody has stolen my parchment. It's the only explanation really, because I certainly didn't lose it. Someone definitely took it. For my amazing doodling, no doubt. But honestly, I know I'm a good doodler and all, but does someone really have to go and steal my drawings, therefore preventing me from having a clean piece of parchment for a note-writing lesson, such as the one Professor Sprout is going over at this very moment? I mean, I'd gladly give it to them. Really. Free of charge, even. Unless...

Unless...

Holy Merlin, I can't believe it!

Someone's stolen my parchment!

DELIBERATELY!

And not even for my beautiful doodles! I've been sabotaged!

You know what? It was probably that dirty little 4th-year Marcus Hillpitt. He's held a pathetic grudge against me ever since last term when I had a klutzy moment and accidentally knocked over his Fanged Geranium in Greenhouse 4, which, hello, was not even really my fault. I mean, everyone knows you don't keep things in Greenhouse 4--it's cursed--and adding that to a distracted 6th-year girl trying to get a good look at Amos Diggory... come on, you're just setting yourself up for failure. Really, you're just asking for it.

Besides, how was I supposed to know that it was his end-of-term project? All I was trying to do was get a good glance of Amos, not kill his plant, though he seems to think otherwise. That's why he's always been so bitter towards me, even though I'm the one who was nearly killed by the bloody psychotic thing. If anything, I should really be the one holding onto the grudge and stealing his parchment, not the other way around! Psh! The nerve of some people!

Wait! No! Maybe it wasn't Hillpitt (though I wouldn't be surprised).

I bet it was Potter!

That dirty little bastard! It was! It had to be! He wants me to be miserable! He wants me to fail school and to live on the streets with nothing but a quill and a cloak to my name! After all, he's cross with me, you know, because I am SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON.

Look at him over there, sitting next to Sirius, looking all smug and...and...

Oh.

Well, now wait a second... is that a smug smile?

No. No, that's not.

Do you know what? If I didn't know any better (and wasn't completely aware that Potter is currently basking in the glory of my stolen parchment) I would guess that our dear Mr. Potter is actually a bit depressed! Yes, depressed! He's not looking at all smug at this particular moment. He looks a bit on the ill side, actually. But of course that can't be true-- the depression, not the illness. That may be true-- for we all know that Potter is far too busy to be depressed. Stealing my parchment and throwing me nasty looks-- the basic routine for RUINING SOMEONE'S LIFE-- takes up a lot of a person's day. He doesn't have the time to be depressed. Or the motive. He's too busy being a complete wanker.

He's such a jerk. I mean, honestly, stealing my parchment? How stupid. How childless. How utterly--

Oh, never mind. I found it.

__________________

Even Later, Charms

I love Professor Flitwick, really I do, with all my heart and all my soul, but honestly, what is he thinking? I mean, actually attempting to teach during the last class of the day on a Friday? It's just not going to happen. No one is playing any sort of attention. Especially with Timmy Ricks and Penny O'Jene currently putting on a public shagging session at the back of the room. And then there's Sirius up towards the front, doing something with his wand that everyone seems to be finding incredibly amusing. These are the sort of things Flitwick is competing with. He doesn't stand a chance. Does he not see that?

"...it's a highly dangerous charm that should be used with only the most extreme of caution. The effects are... well, can anyone tell me what the effects are? Come now, anyone?"

Obviously he doesn't.

And I always thought Flitwick such an intelligent bloke, too. Pity.

You know what else is quite a pity? My sudden and complete inability to keep my eyes open. I don't know why, but I've somehow seemed to have had all my energy drained from me rather quickly today. I'm exhausted. Thank goodness that it's Friday. I think I'm just going to run up to my bed and stay there for the next three days. Wouldn't that be lovely? Just lounging about, not a care in the world? Too bad life's not like that. I happen to have fifty thousand loads of assignments, not to mention a Prefects meeting to run Sunday--which is definitely going to be absolute murder, by the way. I mean, Potter has never even been to a prefect meeting, let alone ran one. Then of course there also the fact that he is being completely unreasonable towards me... Merlin, it'll be bad.

Oh, well. I'm going to sleep while I can. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll fall asleep and never wake up. Wouldn't that be nice?

__________________

Later, the Gryffindor Common Room

Do you know what the worst possible thing that could happen to a girl is when she's tired, frustrated, and just wants to sleep?

BEING KICKED OUT OF HER OWN DORMITORY BY HER ARCH-NEMESIS, THAT'S WHAT!

I am just far too exhausted to take all of this. Seriously. I can't deal with it. Too much is happening and I'm just too tired. I practically had to drag myself back up to Gryffindor Tower before. And then Grace and Emma had gone missing, and I had no idea where they'd run off to, and Potter was still giving me the dirtiest looks, and the list goes on and on...

I was practically crying with relief when I finally reached the Fat Lady. I was that tired. And now that I think about it, I'm really not all that sure where this sudden fatigue came from. I mean, this morning I was fine, but then suddenly, WHAM, I'm out like my Uncle Davie after Aunt Mae's New Years Day parties (minus the alcohol). It's quite odd. Maybe I was poisoned or something.

So anyway, as I continued trudging through the Common Room and up the girls' staircase, you could probably only imagine the enormous amount of devastation I felt when I opened my dormitory door, prepared to flop down on my bed and never leave, only to be stopped by piles and piles of brightly coloured clothes... everywhere.

Including on my bed.

Especially on my bed.

And you know what the worst thing was?

They weren't my clothes.

Nope, definitely not mine.

And all I kept thinking was, No. Oh, please, Merlin. Clean my bed.

But that just didn't happen.

Instead, something else did.

"Oh, why if it isn't Evans, the lost and lonely Mudblood. So sorry about the bed. I just didn't have enough room on mine."

Lost and lonely, Saunders? Try fatigued, angered, and NOT WANTING TO TAKE YOUR CRAP RIGHT NOW!

Under normal circumstances, that would've been the point where I really let Elisabeth have it. Clothes on my bed? Was she kidding? Did she want me to burn them? I totally would if they weren't gone in approximately two seconds.

Yes, I really truly would've let her have it, but as I went to open my mouth to tell her off, I found that I just couldn't. It wasn't worth the effort it took.

"I hope you're not expecting to stay in here, Evans," Carrie Lloyd, the evil henchman, chimed in from beside Saunders. I glared fiercely at her, finding myself talking through my exhaustion.

"So what if I am?" I shot back, though hardly with the force or the dignity the statement desired. "It's not your dormitory. You can't kick me out. I'll do as I please. If I wish to stay, then I'll stay!"

Aren't I tough? Aren't I just so intimidating? Wouldn't you just cower in fear over my supreme frighteningisim?

Yeah, they didn't either.

Elisabeth snorted in a very unladylike manner as she slipped a skirt in front of her and examined the look of it in the mirror. She didn't even bother looking at me as she spoke.

"Oh, please. I have a date tonight, Evans, so unless you want to play servant and go fetch my things, I suggest you leave."

Again, I went to open my mouth, to fight it, to tell her I was staying no matter what she said and that I most certainly wouldn't be playing any sort of servant to her careless fashion whims, but once more I found my brain not functioning properly, and nothing came out. Obviously not expecting too much of a fight either, Elisabeth just continued looking into her mirror, a bright orange top in front of her, gesturing silently to Carrie about her distaste for the blouse.

The whole thing made me sick.

"I'll just have you know," I told her, as I slowly started backing out of the door, glancing longingly at my bed. So close, and yet so far. "That I'm not leaving because you told me to, but because I'm tired and I want to go to bed, and am unable to do that right now. All right?"

As I slopped down the stairs, I heard Saunders laugh.

Saunders 1, Evans 0.

So now I'm stuck in the Common Room, lying on this couch (which is not as good as my bed), with this random pillow (which is not as good as my pillow), and no blanket (I want my blanket), with absolutely no energy and even less dignity.

I hate Fridays.

__________________

Later, the Gryffindor Common Room

When I fell asleep a couple of hours ago, I did not have:

a) a blanket
b) a comfortable pillow
c) a plate of food from dinner, or
d) messy, tangled hair

And now, only a few short hours later, I seem to have suddenly acquired:

a) a blanket (a very comfortable one; big and fluffy and completely warm and snugglish. Plus, it smells so good. Like a soapish smell mixed with Honeydukes' chocolate. A strange mixture, but it really does work)
b) a comfortable pillow (definitely made of goose down. My parents have similar pillows in their bedroom. Same luscious smell as the blanket)
c) a plate of food from dinner (Oh Merlin! Whoever did this is a saint! Three types of rice! THREE! And some meat and some carrots... saintly!)
d) messy, tangled hair (hardly unexpected)

But who would do this? I suppose Grace or Emma could have, but they don't have down pillows or a comfortable blanket such as this, and that scent is not theirs at all. Maybe the House Elves? But House Elves don't deliver food to students not present at dinner. If they did that, they'd be very busy House Elves, indeed. Plus, whoever did this has to know me pretty well. I mean, they got me my rice, and my carrots and my meat. Who knows me that well? Only Grace and Emma, really.

Maybe it was them, then. Maybe they just took someone else's blanket and pillow. It's possible. I'll just have to ask them later. But for right now, I'm going to eat my dinner, then continue snuggling up to my snugglish blanket and snugglish pillow and am going to sleep, just like I planned.

You know, even the couch isn't as uncomfortable as it was before.

Things are finally starting to look up.

__________________

Saturday, September 13, Breakfast in the Great Hall

It wasn't Grace or Emma. The blanket and things, I mean. I asked them this morning and they said they found me like that after dinner (and then proceeded to just leave me there, by the way, neither even bothering to wake their dear friend up so that she could go sleep in the comfort of her own dormitory. No, they just left her alone in the very public Common Room where fellow Gryffindors could easily comment on her tangly hair and awkward sleeping positions. So not cool).

But if it wasn't them, who was it?

I wasn't even sure who to give the things back to, so I just folded them all nice and left them on the couch with a small 'Thank You' note. Whoever it was, they're really sneaky, because when I went off to take a shower, the pillow and blanket were gone when I came back. Mr./Ms. Mysterious even left a note back to me:

You're welcome. Hope they kept you comfortable.

The writing isn't even familiar. I don't have any idea who it is. I mean, for all I know, it could be a super scary stalker... but then again, who would really waste their time stalking me? How utterly boring would that be?

You know what? I'm going to miss that stupid blanket... and the pillow... and that scent...

Oh, bugger.

__________________

Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Things to do:

1) Do assignments--
a) Charms
b) Transfiguration (ask Emma, because tutor is not speaking to you)
c) Ancient Ruins
d) Herbology
e) Potions
2) Clean up dormitory.
3) Acquire What Not To Do When Speaking To Prefects from Remus.
4) Sleep
5) Eat
6) Discover who Mr./Ms. Mysterious actually is and thank them graciously, subtly hinting that you would like to steal their blanket, pillow and scent.

__________________

Even Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

What Not To Do When Speaking To Prefects:

What Not to Do When Speaking to Prefects was a book that was started two years before I became a Prefect by all the Gryffindor Prefects and Gryffindor Head Students. It's basically a book that documents all the screw-ups, scandals, and embarrassing moments that ever occurred during Prefect Meetings by the Head Students, but it does it in the form of a rule. For example:

Rule #116) Head Girls must never chew gum whilst yelling across the room at chattery Ravenclaw Prefects, for the gum is most able to fly out of her mouth and land on an unsuspecting Hufflepuff Prefect's head.

This happened last term when the Head Girl, Jenny Kearns, accidentally spit her gum into Nina Leverton's hair while she was telling off Tammy Turner and Phil Rook for talking during the meeting. It was utterly hilarious, and was all us Prefects could talk about for days and days--well, until the next meeting, anyway. Then we had a new rule to laugh over when Rodolphus Lestrange tried to take the book away from us and it spit blue glop all over him, simultaneously providing us with Rule #117 and Rule #118:

Rule #117) Non-Gryffindor Head Boys must not try to take sacred books away from Gryffindor Prefects or he shall have to face the consequences.

Rule #118) Never overestimate your Slytherin powers by trying to clean off blue glop with "Evanesco." We are not that stupid. It's not going to work.

It goes on and on like that. We're already up to Rule #129. I had completely forgotten about the book until this morning, when I was going over all the things I should do before the Prefects Meeting and then realised that I had a clear-cut list of what not to do fully within my grasp. We'd given the book to Remus at the end of last term so that he could hold on to it for this year. It's a good thing that I remembered too, because I need to give that thing a good read through. I mean, I know that between Potter and me, we're probably going to get us up to Rule #299 this year, but hopefully if I give the book a quick look, I won't be repeating any of the previous screw-ups. That would be worse than making up my own.

It's going to be another lovely day in Prefectville.

__________________

Still Later, Gryffindor Common Room

You definitely know you should've been in Guam two weeks ago when:

1) There is no rice at dinner:

I'm serious. There was absolutely no rice present on the whole Gryffindor table tonight at dinner. It completely spoiled the good mood I was in (Emma had just helped me with my Transfiguration homework. So what if I didn't understand? It's done, isn't it?). I was all ready to just sit down and tuck in, when, sure enough, I take my seat and automatically go to reach for... THE NON-EXISTENT RICE BOWL. It was dreadful! I couldn't eat anything the entire meal because I was still in such complete shock. I mean, how can you go from having three different types of rice one night, to no rice the next? It's completely unacceptable and just not fair. So now I'm utterly starving and I don't want to have to go all the way down to the kitchen, so it's not as if I could get anything. All I could do was sit there and sulk and I fully intended to do so.

2) Your best friend refuses to introduce you to her boyfriend:

"So when are we going to get to meet Mr. Boyfriend, Em?" Grace asked, pouring another helping of onion soup into her bowl. Psh. Onion soup. Hello? Rice!

I took a moment out of my busy sulking schedule to comment on this. After all, I'm also curious as to the identity of him. Who is he? What is he like? Was there rice present at his table? "Yeah, are we ever going to get to meet him?"

Emma was silent for a few moments, choosing not to instantly respond to our questions. She just kept looking over at the Ravenclaw table, staring helplessly as if it would up and come and save her.

Finally realising that no, no one was coming to rescue her, Emma turned her gaze away from the Ravenclaw table and back towards Grace and me and said, "Well, not right now."

Then she went back to eating her dinner.

That was it. Not right now.

NOT RIGHT NOW? What does she mean 'not right now'?

"Not right now?" Grace sputtered, sending little bits of onion soup onto the table, one little tidbit of onion landing far too close to me for comfort. Ew, gross. "What do you mean 'not right now'? What's wrong with now?"

"Grace," Emma sighed, sounding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He's eating."

"So?"

"So, I don't want to disturb him!" Emma looked at me for some sort of support. "You understand, right, Lily?"

Understand? Erm, no, actually, I didn't, but I nodded anyway. I was far too busy sulking and trying to silence my rumbling stomach. I threw Grace a 'we'll get it out of her later' look, which I don't think she caught. She just glared at Emma.

"Lily's a liar," Grace said, turning her glare onto me. "She doesn't understand. She's just too busy sulking about the bloody rice. Now, come on, Em!"

If the statement hadn't been so completely true, I probably would've been a bit offended. See how well my mates know me? I'm slightly comforted by this thought. It's nice to know that if I ever really needed to get a point across while lying, my mates would catch it, you know?

Yeah, you wouldn't.

"I'll introduce you later, Grace. Just not right now, all right?" Emma was starting to sound a bit desperate and I had to wonder what her reasons were for hiding this bloke. Why doesn't she want us to meet him? I mean, I know that I'm kind of an embarrassment to human nature, but everyone already knows that, so it will hardly be a surprise. And I know Grace is rather...er... different, but she's still a really brilliant girl. What's wrong, then?

Grace grumbled an agreement. I felt like doing the same, but my sulking face didn't move.

3) James Potter is now in possession of What Not to Do When Speaking to Prefects, and is supposedly doing the exact same thing I'M supposed to be doing (reading it):

When dinner had ended, Grace was still bitter and Emma was still refusing to any sort of introduction (and of course, we were still without any rice). I made my way alone back towards Gryffindor Tower. On my way there, I spotted Remus on one of the staircases up in front of me. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't surrounded by the usual cronies.

"Hey, Remus!" I called, the sound of my voice causing him to stop mid-staircase and turn around to face me. When he saw that it was me who had called, his eyebrows shot up and his face went rather still. I think he was afraid I was going to yell at him or something. I held back the impulse to roll my eyes. It seems my temper tends to have that sort of stilling effect on most people.

Still with his guarded look, Remus answered me cautiously, "Yes, Lily?"

"Do you think you could lend me What Not to Do When Speaking to Prefects for a bit? I think I'd better give it a read through. You know, so I don't add any more rules."

There. Not so scary, right?

His Lily-temper-look gone, Remus stared at me for a bit, looking as if he thought I had some sort of ulterior motive in my asking for the book or something. Which I didn't. Have an ulterior motive, I mean. I never have ulterior motives. I'm not that smart.

After he seemed to realise that I wasn't that intelligent, and that my biggest ulterior motive was procrastinating my Potions homework, he went, "Well, I would, except..."

"Except what?"

"Except," he repeated slowly, stressing out the word as if he didn't want to continue with what he was saying. He sighed deeply and I instantly knew that whatever he was about to say, I wasn't going to like. "James has it."

My body froze.

James...

What?

I tried to keep my voice controlled as the anger and annoyance seeped through my veins. "What do you mean 'James has it'?"

"I mean that James has it," Remus repeated once more, scratching the back of his head with an innocent look. "He asked me for it before dinner. I think he had the same idea that you did."

I stood there dumbfound for a moment, processing what Remus had just said. James Potter was now in possession of the book I was supposed to be reading... all right... okay...

NO, NOT ALL RIGHT! NOT OKAY!

Is he mad? I thought Remus was responsible! I thought he was supposed to be the good influence! What is he doing lending important books to Potter? I mean, the bloody wanker will probably curse the thing, or destroy it, or something equally as stupid! What has he done to poor Remus? What happened to good Remus? WHAT HAPPENED?

Waving my hands in front of my body like a raving lunatic, I cried, "Why did you give it to him? Are you mad?"

But despite all my yelling, Remus didn't seem to think he was mad at all. Quite the contrary actually. He thought giving Potter the book was a fairly appropriate idea.

Poor, poor, Remus. He's been so corrupted.

"He is Head Boy, Lily," Remus pointed out. "He has just as much of a right to the book as you do. Besides, he's never been a Prefect before. He doesn't know what it's like. Maybe the book will help."

"Help?" I moaned, dropping my hands to my sides. "He's not reading it! He's probably cursing it or something!"

Remus sighed, shaking his head. "He is not. He's changed since fourth year, Lily. He's not like that anymore."

"Oh, please," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "He hasn't changed, Remus. That's just who he is!"

Remus continued shaking his head, looking at me as if I were a small child who had no idea what she was talking about. "You're not one for change, are you, Lily?"

I rolled my eyes again. What is he on about? Not one for change? I don't care about change! It's just that this particular change isn't real. Doesn't he understand that?

Then suddenly, inspiration struck.

"Well, Remus," I started, giving him a long, hard look, "this "change" that Potter's supposedly gone through, does it happen to exclude throwing large globs of green gloop on unsuspecting girls, or was that was just a quirk in the transformation?"

Remus winced. "About that..."

"No," I interrupted. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"But it wasn't--"

I cut him off again, trying to grope for some sort of solution to the Potter-Book situation. "Just... tell Potter to give it to me when he's done, all right? If it's still safe, that is."

"Lily--"

"Bye, Remus."

4) Your hair is really messy and it won't unmessize itself:

I think this one pretty much speaks for itself.

I should really just book my departure now. I think Guam is expecting me.

__________________

Even Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

I think I'm in love.

There is rice on my bed.

There is rice on my bed, and there is another note from Mr/Ms. Mysterious.

Again, I think I'm in love.

Enjoy.

That's all it says. 'Enjoy'. What an enigma this person is!

But for right now, I don't particularly care that I don't know who is currently serving as my guardian angel. All I care about is enjoying my rice, just like Mr./Mrs. Mysterious wants me to.

__________________

The Latest, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Grace and Emma returned to the dormitory a few minutes later and found me eating my rice in my bed. They forced me to tell them about Mr./Mrs. Mysterious. I admit to them that I think I'm starting fall in love with Mr./Mrs. I mean, he/she sends me rice... and blankets... and really good scents. What's not to love?

Grace, always the killjoy, asks: "You're willing to be in love with a girl, Lil?"

I shake my head. "I'm willing to be a very, very good friend."

"And if it's a bloke?"

I smile. "Highly doubtful."

Which it is. Highly doubtful that it's a bloke, I mean. Because in order for it to be a bloke, he'd actually have to know me. Like really really know me, because he's obviously aware of my rice addiction and he knew I was having a withdrawal tonight. So he'd also have to be pretty observant. I don't know any blokes that well. Or any blokes who pay that much attention.

"But if it is a boy?" Emma persists.

I nod my head thoughtfully. "Then I'll marry him."

They laugh, but I secretly hope it's a girl, because I've already promised myself to Amos.

__________________

Sunday, September 14, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Dearest Lily,

Hello, dear! How have you been? Are you enjoying school so far? Are you keeping up with your schoolwork? I hope everything is going all right. I know you were a bit panicky about your Head Girl duties, but I'm sure with all your Prefect experience, you're doing perfectly fine. Was the Head Boy who you thought it was? That--what was his name?--Adam? Amos? Andy?

Everything here is well. Daddy has just received a promotion at work and we had a small party at Auntie Mae's house last night. Uncle Davy drank a little more than his share and started singing 'Amazing Grace' on Auntie Mae's table again. I'm sorry you missed it. I do know how much you enjoy an Uncle Davy Show. Petunia made him come down halfway through the first stanza, though, so you didn't miss much. She'd brought Vernon over with her, so I could understand her embarrassment. If I've told your uncle once, I've told him a MILLION times not to drink so much, but does he ever listen? Of course not.

Speaking of Petunia and Vernon, your sister insists she saw Vernon shopping for rings in Buellen's this past Friday. She's dreadfully excited. She insists this is the ring. I try not to feed her excitement too much, in case it's not what she's expecting. After all, Vernon hasn't said anything to your father or me. Daddy says he'll be a bit upset if Vernon doesn't ask him first. I try to tell him that that's not how things are done nowadays, but he still continues to be old-fashioned. Do me a favour, darling? When you're planning on getting married, let your potential husband know that he has to ask Daddy first? I think it will be best for everyone.

We love you and miss you terribly! Home's just not home without my Lily!

Love Always,
Mum

__________________

Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

What I would be writing to my mum if I were the sort of daughter who was completely and ridiculously honest:

Dear Mum,

Hi! How are you? How is everything at home? Everything is normal here. School is normal: I'm a bloody failure at Transfiguration and an immodest whiz at Charms, and nothing else really matters. I'm still Head Girl, though for how long that will last, I'm not really sure. Oh, and James Potter--this chap that I despise more than life itself-- is Head Boy, not AMOS, who is my future children's potential father.

Tell Dad congratulations for me! He deserves a promotion after working for that dirty, ungrateful bastard-of-a-boss for the last seven years. Aunt Mae's celebration party sounded fun. I'm upset that you let Uncle Davy put on a show without me. You know it's not as good when I'm not there, searching for a microphone and egging him on. That Uncle Davy sure is one bloody funny drunkard. I wish I had been there, but alas, I'm too busy being hit with big, green globs of goop. Maybe next time, though.

So Vernie is finally going to take Petty away from us, eh? Can't say that I didn't see it coming. It's all right to encourage her, though, Mum. I wouldn't expect Vernon to ask Dad. I don't think he has enough sense for that. However, I'll be sure to mention to Amos that he needs to ask Dad's permission. I mean, he'll know to do that, anyway, because he's perfect, but I'll humour your request. In any case, they deserve each other. Petty and Vernon, I mean. I'm sure that their children will be beautiful--you know, all chinny and giraffe-necked. Do I have to go to the wedding? I could play sick or something. You could even get out of it, as well! You can say that you have to take me to the hospital or something. Ha, that would give poor Petty a heart attack.

I miss you lots and I can't wait to see you again!

Love,
Lily

What I really wrote to my mum, considering I'm not a daughter who is completely and ridiculously honest, but a normal daughter who lies through her teeth:

Dear Mum,

Hi! How have you been? I'm wonderful. School's been brilliant and I'm so glad to be back, though I miss you lot like mad. I'm having a little difficulty with one of my classes, but no one's perfect, so I suppose that's normal, right? I have a tutor now to help me, anyway, so improvement can't be too far away. Being Head Girl is a new experience, and it's so different from just being a Prefect, but I think I'm getting used to it. The Head Boy isn't Amos as I had previously thought, but James Potter, another Gryffindor.

Tell Daddy congratulations! I'm so glad he got his promotion! I wish I had been there. Give him a hug for me, will you? It was nice of Aunt Mae to throw him a party like that. It's too bad Uncle Davy drank so much and ruined things. Though his drunken performances do entertain me, you are right in saying he should watch what he drinks. Poor Petty must have been humiliated! That's okay, though, because I'm sure Vernon loves her enough to overlook small family problems like Uncle Davy.

I'm so excited for Petty! I do hope that she's right about Vernon. They really do make such a lovely couple. I can't wait to see if it's true!

I miss you all so much! Love you!
Lily

Short, quick, and generally painless.

__________________

Later, Great Hall

Life is so unfair.

Well, I suppose it's always been unfair, but it's times like this when a girl realises just how downright awful the world actually is. Especially for people with really bad karma. The worst of it always seems to unleash itself upon us.

I have, of course, realised before that Potter wasn't the average Head Boy. I mean, I always knew that him having no Prefect experience was going to make things even more difficult for me this year, but the fact that I'm pretty much going to be running the Prefect meeting tonight alone never really sank in until just now.

That really just isn't fair, don't you think? Even for a person with brilliantly bad karma and a horrid case of really messy hair. It's completely unjust. I mean, even if Potter did decide to actually read our silly little rule book instead of hexing it or jinxing it or possibly flushing it down the loo, it doesn't mean all that much. Sure, the book is brilliant and perfectly hilarious to read, but honestly, it's no miracle worker! And that's exactly what I need right now--a miracle. Because Potter isn't going to suddenly become all mature-ish just because I think the world is being cruel. Nope. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that.

Not even for people with good karma and really nice hair.

__________________

Sunday Night, After the Prefect's Meeting

Lily Evans's Recording Of The First Ever Prefects Meeting of the 1977-1978 Term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Me: All right, everyone! Settle down! Let's get this thing started!

Chris Lynch (6th year Gryffindor. I used to sit with him at meetings last year): Oy, Lily! Don't forget the little people when you're upon your mighty throne, all right?

Oh, Merlin, he's such a twit.

James Potter (an even bigger twit): Shut it, Lynch. Everyone sit down! The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave.

Psh. Was everyone aware that I had said the exact same thing not more than three seconds before? No one listened to me, and yet everyone listened to him? What's wrong with these people? I mean, I'm the responsible one with three years worth of Prefect experience, not him! So what if he has a slightly less than revolting face and can fly on a broom? Will that honestly count in the long run of things?

Prefects are so stupid.

June Mackey (5th year Hufflepuff. Complete slag in every sense of the word): Anything you say, James.

Uh, can you say scrubber?

Me: That's enough, June. Let's move on, shall we?

CL: Here, here!

JP: If you don't can it, Lynch, you're not playing next game. Now everyone take a seat! You too, June.

Whoah, way to hold the authority there, Potter. Let's just threaten them all, shall we? Then again, Chris did shut up (thank Merlin. He's such an embarrassment).

Me: Now that we have everyone's attention, let's begin, all right? As you may or may not know, my name is Lily and I'm a seventh-year Gryffindor and will the Head Girl for this year.

JP: And I'm James, also a Gryffindor and I'll be working along side Lily as Head Boy.

There was a bunch of scattered applause. For Potter, not for me, though I really don't know why. I just don't know what is wrong with people these days. I mean, he's just a boy! You don't applaud someone after they introduce themselves. It's ridiculous.

These once normal children have obviously been corrupted by Potteritis.

Me: Basically what this meeting is being held for is firstly, to congratulate all of you for being chosen as a Prefect. Whether you think so or not, the title of Prefect is something to be proud of, and all of your professors, as well as Headmaster Dumbledore, chose you especially for the position out of all the rest of your peers. So, congratulations on that achievement.

More scattered applause. There! Now that is something to applaud for! Not some cocky, angry, self-centered git. And I'm not just saying that because I was the one to make the little speech. It's what was in the speech that was so applaudable.

Really. Honestly.

JP: Secondly, we're here to discuss all the rules and regulations that you, as a Prefect, are required to follow.

I really almost laughed when Potter chimed in with that. I mean, hold on just a second, was that honestly just JAMES POTTER who took over for me? Discussing rules and regs? Does he even know what rules and regulations are? From the way he was looking at everyone, it seemed that he thought he did, but that just couldn't be possible. The real James Potter sees the rules and regulations merely as a structural device of the things he can completely disregard.

WHERE DID THE REAL JAMES POTTER GO AND WHO IS THIS IMPOSTER?

JP: And even though they're a pain in the arse, I've got to follow them, and so do you.

Ah, found him.

Me: Ahem! Also as part of your Prefect duties, all of you are required to help with nightly hall sweeps. Later on in the meeting we will have all of you fill out slips of parchment stating which days are unacceptable for you so that we can form a decent schedule as to when your hall duties will take place. Lastly, we'll take any questions that you may have regarding Prefects and their duties. All right?

And so the meeting continued. I went on and on like that, acting like I knew what I was doing. It was actually quite a riot. I mean, I was acting all professional and all actually-qualified-Head-Girl like, that I was almost starting to fool myself! I must be one bloody good actress because even the Prefects started to listen to me after awhile. It was truly a great and funny riot.

But do you know what wasn't a great and funny riot? Do you know what was so totally completely incomprehensible that my head is still spinning from the complete unusualness of it all? The fact that Potter--yes, JAMES POTTER-- was for once in his life, not a complete toe-rag. I swear it was the maddest thing I've ever seen in my whole seventeen years of living. He was actually doing what he was supposed to be doing! I mean, he played the part of Head Boy to complete perfection--well, maybe not complete perfection, as he somehow managed to add a few of his prattish comments in here and there, but still, it was completely unfathomable!

But you know what the real dastardly thing about it was? Unlike me, I don't think he was acting. I think that maybe, just maybe, James Potter may have had a natural knack for being a Head Boy, as unfairly scary and unlikely as that may sound. I mean, there I was, thinking that this whole meeting would be a complete disaster because:

a) I'm a wrongly chosen Head Girl with immensely bad karma
b) the Head Boy is a trouble-making prat who never had any Prefect experience
c) the trouble making prat who never had any Prefect experience is extremely angry with the wrongly chosen Head Girl with immensely bad karma, and
d) there was a bowl of cottage cheese on the Gryffindor table during dinner, and everyone who's anyone knows that cottage cheese at dinner is a major sign of future failure.

So having Potter sprout out this new Head Boy talent of his gave me quite a shock, and I knew I wasn't hiding it well. Every time he would go and do or say something all Head-Boyish, I would just stare at him, wondering if maybe he'd had acting classes as a child, or if the world was just truly cruel and had given James Potter yet another amazing talent. After much consideration and many Head-Boyish comments from Potter, I decided that this is just another effect of the fact that God was a male. The damn bloke gives all the good and important qualities to bullies like Potter, and gives all the unfortunate ones to girls with bad karma like me. There just isn't any justice in the world.

And maybe, just maybe--and this is a long-shot here-- if Potter wasn't so cross with me for some stupid reason that no one will tell me, I would've complimented him on his newly found Head Boy skills tonight. No, I am not kidding. The boy was that good. But of course, considering Potter still seems to be rattled at me, I really couldn't say anything, even if I had wanted to.

So instead I remained silent, somehow managing to leave the Prefect's meeting:

a) unharmed
b) physically healthy, and
c) completely and utterly shocked once again because of James Potter.

The world truly does work in mysterious ways.

__________________

Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Rule #130 has just been added to What Not To Do When Speaking To Prefects:

Rule#130) Head Girls must never underestimate the skills and superiority of Head Boys, no matter what their previous engagements may lead them to believe.

Oh, bugger.

__________________

Monday, September 15, Defense Against the Dark Arts

The Meeting of the Boyfriend: Mr. Mac:
(The introduction of one, Mr. Fulton McDonough, to Grace Reynolds and Lily Evans, taking place this morning at breakfast)

Emma: Grace, Lily, I'd like to introduce you to someone.

Grace: Is that so?

Me: Now who could it possibly be?

Emma (coughing offensively): I want you both to meet Fulton McDonough. Mac, this is Grace Reynolds and Lily Evans.

Grace: Nice to meet you, Fulton.

Me: Erm, Fulton?

Mac: Mac. Just Mac.

Me: All right, then. Pleasure to meet you, Mac.

Mac (looking at me): Head Girl, right?

Me(shrugging): For today.

(Grace snorts. Mac looks confused.)

Grace: Don't mind her. She's lost her identity.

Me: My what?

Mac: Her what?

Grace (laughing at her own little private joke): Her identity. It's gone. Lost. Forever. It wasn't that great to begin with, but at least it was there.

Mac: Her....er...

Me: You can just ignore her, Mac. She hasn't had her medication this morning.

Grace: Neither have you.

Emma (quite flushed): Grace!

Grace: Sorry, Mac. Didn't mean to frighten you. It's early.

Mac: Er... it's fine.

Grace: I, uh, like your rock. (Points to large, obscure, absolutely unnecessary piece of junk hanging from his neck)

Mac (beaming proudly): I got it from Egypt, in one of the old tombs. It's said that thousands of years ago, rocks like this were actually gold, but they were all turned to stone once the pharaoh who owned them died.

Me: So that thing was gold?

Mac: Supposedly.

Me: Well, if it was gold at one point, can't you just do a little Prior Incantato and get it back? (I meant this as a joke, of course)

Mac (completely serious): No. No, you can't.

(Mac obviously does not get my sense of humor.)

Me: Erm... okay. (Grace got my joke. She's laughing.)

Grace (still laughing): Toast, Mac?

Mac: Er--

Emma: Mac doesn't eat toast.

Me: What do you mean he doesn't eat toast?

Emma: He just doesn't like it, Lil.

Grace (to Mac): You don't like toast?

(Mac shakes his head.)

Me: Why?

Mac: It clogs my arteries.

(Toast? Arteries? Is this bloke for real?)

Me: Psh. Well, doesn't that beat all?

Grace: I can't believe--

Emma (to Mac): We'd better be going. We don't want to be late. (turning to us with a very disapproving look) I'll see you both in Herbology.

Grace: All right, then. Bye!

Me: It was nice meeting you, Mac!

(Needless to say, he doesn't respond.)

I never said I made good first impressions.

__________________

Later, Herbology

What I Know About Mr. Fulton M. McDonough
(or more commonly known as Emma's boyfriend)

1) His name is Fulton Michael McDonough, but everyone calls him Mac. I could definitely see why. I mean, honestly, who in their right mind names their son Fulton? That's really just begging for humiliation. If Merlin forbid, Mac has as high of a humiliation rate as, let's say, me, he really wouldn't need to add a ridiculous name to that burden. It just wouldn't be fair to him. Or society for that matter.
2) General description: tall, lanky, mousy brown hair, and rather large ears.
3) He's a 7th-year Ravenclaw prefect, and even though I didn't see him at the meeting last night, Emma says he was there.
4) He's really ridiculously smart. I mean like genius smart. Like I-don't-have-to-even-study-for-my-NEWTS-I'm-so-smart smart. I'm so jealous.
5) He and Emma met last year. LAST YEAR! And she never said ANYTHING! What kind of friend does that, hm? If I suddenly gained a boyfriend, I so would not hide it.
6) He seems to have the same ridiculous fetish with really strange, really stupid foreign objects just like Emma. He even has a stupid rock around his neck, which resembles the rock Emma's got quite a bit. Personally, I think it belongs in a trash bin.
7) He has an insanely large amount of hair. I'm serious. It doesn't matter that Emma says it was only like that because he'd woken up late. It still doesn't change the fact that he has way too much of it. He should donate some of it somewhere-- you know, to like the bald and less fortunate? I hardly think he'll miss it much.
8) He doesn't like toast. Now, I'm not one to judge or anything, but what kind of person doesn't like toast? I mean, it's bread. You need bread to live! What's with that?
9) He thinks I've lost my identity.
10) I don't think he likes me much.

__________________

Later, Lunch in the Great Hall

What is wrong with the people of today's society? Seriously. I just don't get it. What happened to all of us? I mean, is the youth really all that corrupted?

I truly just don't understand anyone anymore.

How could it possibly be considered normal to be on permanent mood swings all the time? I mean, are you allowed to be unnaturally nice and perfectly cool one day, and then turn completely rude and dreadful within hours? Can you do that? Is it legal? Could I take it up with the Ministry, or perhaps with Parliament? Moodiness like that, it just can't be acceptable.

But apparently it is. Or maybe it's only James Potter who's special enough to be so moody.

The bloody rotten bugger.

It's just ridiculous the way he's acting. Honestly, it is. And really, it's not as if he even has a single suitable reason to be so dreadful to me. I mean, I know everyone except me (the person who really should know) seems to understand why it is he's being such a wanker, but I just don't. Maybe I'm not that quick. Or maybe everyone else is just delusional. Personally, I think it's the former. But either way, the support system just isn't there. I couldn't have possibly done something so terrible without noticing. I just couldn't have.

And really, when you think about it, he's the one who lied to me, pretended to be all sweet and nice and innocent, and then went and ruined it all with his stupid immature pranks. And yet somehow, I'm the one at fault? That doesn't make a single bit of sense! I should be the one who's calling him dirty names and glaring fiercely wherever he goes, not the other way around. So if I'm not doing any of that wretched stuff, than Potter most certainly has no right to do it either. Why can't he see that? Why can't they see that? Why am I the only one with any bit of sense left around here?

So, it is with this lasting little bit of sense that I have left, that I now also kindly add that--regardless of what everyone else seems to think--I had nothing to do with what just happened in the Arithmancy corridor before--well, I mean, I was involved, but I was not the one to instigate the entire thing. I'm serious. I didn't do anything. I don't know why whenever someone blows up, all fingers are automatically pointed to me, but they are. Do the students of Hogwarts honestly think that James Potter can do no wrong? That he couldn't possibly be the one to start everything? That maybe, just maybe, Lily Evans wasn't in the fault this time?

Of course they couldn't. They've been corrupted by Potter. And society. They no longer think for themselves.

But I really hadn't done anything wrong! I'm telling the truth. I mean, unless we're suddenly calling standing in a corridor a public offense, I'm completely innocent. If he hadn't been such an idiot, I wouldn't have even...

Ugh. I can't stand him. I can't stand any of this.

But what can you do, really? It's James Potter's world and we're all just living in it.

The trouble all started when Professor Lundi, my Ancient Runes professor, had decided to kindly let class out early this morning, figuring he'd let us all get a head start to lunch. Now me, I was all for that. In fact, I was quite hungry at the time, so I gave the out-of-class-early plan two thumbs up. However, I figured that my stomach could wait a little while longer while I took a slight detour on my way to the Great Hall so that I could meet up with Emma in the Arithmancy corridor, which wasn't all that far from the Ancient Runes classroom. So with a light jaunt in my step, I walked the small distance to the Arithmancy classroom. There, I quietly and patiently stood waiting for the class to let out.

And the minutes ticked by...

...and ticked by...

...and my stomach began to growl...

...and still the class had yet to let out...

You could see my dilemma, right?

So naturally, after ten more minutes of waiting there patiently like the perfect angel that I am, I started to get a wee bit bored. I mean, I hadn't noticed it before, but Lundi had let us out far too early. I know he was trying to be nice and everything, but there really is a line between nice to being far-too-desperate-to-get-away-from-these-kids. But now that I'm thinking about it, getting away from us probably wasn't Lundi's only reason for giving us extra time to get to lunch. He's...well, he enjoys his food. And everyone knows it. It's actually quite a pity when you consider what this is going to start up. I mean, everyone already jokes about Lundi and his obesity problems. He really didn't have to provoke the Slytherins like that by letting us out even earlier. He'll never hear the end of it now. And those Slytherins can be so cruel sometimes...

Oh, bugger, now I feel bad. Perhaps I shouldn't have left the class? You know, maybe I should have distracted him a bit until it was an appropriate time to leave? I like Professor Lundi, even if he does call me Mily-va-Lily, which by the way, I've asked him not to do several times. He's a nice old man and a damn good Ancient Runes professor. Oh, why didn't I think of this before? I'm such a horrid, horrid person! Now he'll be tormented and teased and it's all because I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn't stop to think about the long-term effects my departure would have on Professor Lundi. See why I shouldn't be Head Girl? I'm so selfish. Head Girl's shouldn't be selfish. Head Girl's are perfect. A real Head Girl would have realised sooner and distracted Lundi. I'm such a failure.

But now I'm getting sidetracked. As I was saying before, I was standing in the corridor, time ticking by incredibly slowly and the boringness consuming me, until I reached the point where I had to do something. I didn't know how much longer I would be standing there, and there's only so much a girl can take. So as a way to perhaps soothe my escalating boredom, I simply started pacing quietly in the front the classroom door, using the lines of the stone floors as a guideline as I began walking them like a tightrope. It was a funny little game, immature as it was. Every time I stepped off the lines, I'd add a book to my head and would have to see how long I could walk like that. Crazy, I know, but I was bored, and it was fun.

So I'm playing my little game--getting quite good at it by the way, with only two books atop my head--becoming so absorbed in keeping the books from falling that I hardly noticed when I began straying closer and closer to the Arithmancy classroom's door.

And that's when it happened.

There I was, innocently concentrating on keeping the two textbooks atop my head, walking along the lines as carefully as I possibly could, when all of a sudden I hear a swinging noise and BAM!

Me, my books, my bag, and all the rest of my possessions are sent sprawling onto the floor (quite painfully, if I might add). And when I look up to see who the psychopath who flings doors open is, guess who I saw?

Why, James Potter, of course!

I wanted to move, wanted to talk, to start screaming about the consequences of flinging doors open and knocking poor innocent children over. I wanted to do something, anything, but apparently my body had different ideas. I was completely frozen. Hard as I tried, as much as my brain was screaming to do something, I just couldn't. So I just continued to lay there, staring at him like there was nothing else I could possibly look at. He was staring at me as well, his face looking lost. His eyes would shift quickly from me, to my things sprawled upon the floor, and then back to me again. And all the while I sat there, waiting for him to respond in some way because I knew that I certainly couldn't.

And then, as if he had suddenly remembered that he was a nasty little bugger who was for some reason completely cross with me, Potter's face turned into a scowl and his eyes narrowed. He looked at me as if I was the one who pushed him onto the floor.

"You're crowding the corridor, Evans."

Yeah. That's what he said. 'You're crowding the corridor, Evans.'

Well, I bet you could imagine what happened next. But I can't say that the stupid git didn't deserve it. I mean, what nerve? Crowding the corridor? Was he kidding? That's easy for a bloke who's crowding the earth to say.

So I let my temper roll and really let him have it.

"Crowding the corridor?" I snapped, throwing a glare back his way. "Well, I wouldn't be, Potter, if someone hadn't thrown open the door like a wild beast and knocked me down!"

"So now it's my fault that you're clumsy?"

I glared harder, my temper rising with every second, but he seemed unaffected by my scathing looks. He simply smirked. "I am not clumsy!" I shot back through clenched teeth. "It's not my fault I was knocked down by a door!"

In my angered state, I was completely unaware of the crowds of people forming around us. Potter, on the other hand, had noticed these gossiping rejects, and simply started to casually walk away from the scene, acting as if nothing at all was happening and we weren't in the middle of a public shouting match in the middle of the corridor. He couldn't just leave like that. I wouldn't stand for it. Holding back a groan of frustration, abandoning my things which were still scattered on the ground, I hopped off the floor and shot after him down the corridor.

At first he ignored me, acting as if he didn't notice I had got up and followed him. But he knew. Oh, did he know.

"Is there something you need, Evans?" he finally snapped, not even bothering to turn and face me when he spoke. We were farther down the corridor, away from the crowds.

At that point I was more hysterical than I was angry. Why was he acting like this? What could I have possibly done? I had to know.

"Why are you being so nasty to me? I didn't do anything to you!"

My furious statement got more of a reaction from him than I'd expected, and I instantly jumped back when he quickly whipped around on me. "That's right, Lily!" he yelled, his face so close to my face that his nose was practically touching mine. "You don't do anything! You don't do anything, you don't notice anything, you don't--ah! Just never mind!"

Then he stormed off down the corridor, leaving a very confused me and an equally as confused (though far more chatty) entourage of gossipers in his wake.

I don't think I'll ever understand that child.

__________________

Even Later, Dinner in the Great Hall

What does he mean, 'I don't do anything, I don't notice anything'? What's there to do? What's there to notice?

ISN'T ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT I'M NOT DOING OR WHAT I'M NOT NOTICING?

__________________

Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Everyone's talking about the big row in the Arithmancy corridor between the Head Boy and the Head Girl. As usual, most of the stories include me doing something terribly horrible, because, hey, James Potter is perfect. He could never instigate anything.

Psh. Those prats don't even know what happened.

__________________

Still Later, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory

Grace says that I should go talk to Potter and ask him what I'm not doing or noticing. I tried to tell her that I've decided never speak to him again, considering how every time I do, I always end up in some embarrassing and humiliating situation, but she didn't seem to care.

"He's right, you know," she tells me.

"What do you mean 'he's right'? Right about what?"

"About you not noticing certain things. That's why he's cross with you. You're not noticing things. You know, changes."

Er, not noticing changes?

What the bloody hell is she talking about?

"He's cross because I don't notice things? What kind of excuse is that? I do so notice things! I notice plenty of things! What am I not noticing?"

Grace sighs, and says, "A lot of things, Lily."

I don't think this is a proper answer. I mean, how do any of them expect me to notice what I'm not noticing if they aren't telling me what it is? I'm not an intelligent girl. You have to spell these sorts of things out for me.

"Like what? What have I not noticed?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Just go to bed. Sleep on it, all right?"

Psh. Sleep on it. Easy for her to say.

I'll show them. I'll show all of them. Come tomorrow, I'll be the most observant, noticing-things person that they've ever seen. Yeah. That's right. That'll show them.

Hmph!