Lily's Very Buddha-rific Year

October - But I Don’t Give Massages!

October 1, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Well, I met Severus.

And oh, God.

He has a Potions textbook, and he’s written tips in the margin. And then he says something about curses, which doesn’t really bother me much. I mean, I’m just thinking, “Oh, he must have learned those from his Slytherin friends a few years back.” So I asked, “Where’d you learn all those?”

Then, nonchalantly, he said, “Oh, I invented most of them.”

“You did?” Well, I suppose it made some sense. He isn’t going to Slytherin dos (does?). What else is he going to do, play Candy Land? Because I am sure he just wants to get that Peanut Brittle space.

He nodded. He tried to be modest about the book, but I could tell he was very, very proud of himself, in an un-smug, un-Potter way. And then he said, “You’re the only person I know who’s almost as good as me in Potions - care to help the Half-Blood Prince?”

And even though I don’t know what the hell the Half-Blood Prince is about, and I think he’s a loon and a half, I decided to go along with it.

Now Severus and I have a secret sort of partnership, where I help him write in Potions hints. He says he doesn’t mind much if I don’t help with the curses and such; he knows I’m only a Gryffindor and don’t know much about curses (although I did knock out Bellatrix Lestrange in my second-year, which, I must say, was pretty groovy).

Lis and Vesta were so sad and pathetic about the whole mabob; they ran up to me as soon as I walked in like piranhas in jumpers.

“What’d he want?”

“What’d he show you?” (That, obviously, was Vesta.)

“Hm?”

“C’mon, Lils!”

Honestly, sometimes they’re nightmares. I just waved them off and said, “Would you let me sleep?”

Then they got the hump because, you know, God forbid I keep any secrets from them.

Sometimes I wish my friends were simple and not annoying as twenty house-elves (and let’s throw in Peeves for good measure). In fact, I almost wish they were bloke-like, like maybe Claudius, Remus, or Severus. Just nice and mellow.

And not obsessed with the particulars of my visits with boys.

October 2, 1977

Just before breakfast

Dear Diary,

Oh, Lord, if I murder Vesta, I will plead no contest due to insanity caused by the victim. If that’s possible.

There’s a big huge badge on my jumper that keeps flashing “GREASY HAIR FLIPS MY SWITCH” in this obnoxious fuchsia colour.

But the fuchsia-ness isn’t all. Oh, no. It’s bewitched to stick to my jumper no matter what I do. And that’s definitely the charm work of a certain Felicity Ann Singleton.

I walked to the Common Room, dressed in my uniform, gritting my teeth, and pointing to the badge. Lis spit out her pumpkin juice, Ves laughed unabashedly, and you know nice little Rachel McGregor? Yeah, even she was laughing at me.

“You are being such jerks over this!” I yelled.

“Oh, don’t worry, Lils. You’ve got support,” Lis said. “Ready?”

Simultaneously, Lis, Vesta, Rachel McGregor, and Alice Levy pulled out matching obnoxiously fuchsia buttons that said “GREASY HAIR FLIPS LILY EVANS’S SWITCH! (ask her about it!)”

“But it doesn’t!” I’ll tell you what does flip my switch! Claudius Quirke! Claudius Quirke flips my switch!”

“Oh, really? Then what exactly are you doing with Snivellus?” Vesta sneered.

“For the last time, it’s Severus. And he wanted to talk about Potions, all right? There’s no forbidden love affair going on! There’s just me, him, and a cauldron!”

Lis has still made me keep the badge on, probably because it took so long to charm to my jumper.

Just wait until Lis finds the banner in the Great Hall. And it’s worse than fuchsia; it’s neon turquoise.

And nine metres tall.

Later

Great Hall

Dear Diary,

Whereas most people realized the badge and banner were jokes, Potter just couldn’t handle it.

“Greasy hair doesn’t really - ?” Potter started, before I cut him off.

“No, Potter. It’s a joke. You may have heard of them.”

Lis had to hide behind an orange every time Sirius walked by. For humiliated solidarity, I hid behind the orange with Lis.

But the thing about oranges is that they don’t exactly cover up all of you. In fact, they barely cover your nose.

So Sirius stared at Lis and me, jamming our faces behind this tiny citrus fruit. Mostly at Lis, though (probably because of the banner). He shook his head and said, “Listen carefully, because I’m not saying it again: you two are mad. In a valley beyond madness.” Then he walked off to Potter, Remus, and Peter.

So Lis and I looked at each other from behind the orange, and finally Lis said, “Even?”

I smiled. “Definitely.”

October 4, 1977

Beside the lake

Dear Diary,

I wish Claudius would get his lovely arse over here.

I bet I look like a total oik over here all by myself, writing in a diary. I can almost hear Marigold Parkinson and her Slytherin pals now…”Pretty, popular Evans, all by her lonesome, only a book for her friend!”

Soon they’ll start calling me Severus.

Later

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Oh, in Love Heaven! Claudius the Lovely pecked me on the mouth. That’s like the equivalent of a very heavy snog with him.

And I am officially his girlfriend! He finally asked tonight. I can almost forgive him for taking so long because he was scared silly to ask me out, because he was afraid of me rejecting him! When he said that, I just sort of chuckled and said, “Well, someone doesn’t listen to goss around Hogwarts,” nervously. And that’s when he kissed me.

I would tell Lis and Vesta to break out the champagne, but Lis is out with Richard Boot, a sixth-year Ravenclaw, and I actually don’t know where Ves is.

Oh, well. I expect mucho jubilation-o when they return.

Break out the sombrero!

Even later

Still in the dormitory

Dear Diary,

Lis came back at around ten and was thrilled to hear of my recent cavorting with a Mister Claudius Quirke. She said, “You know what this calls for, Lils.”

In unison, we said, “MUGGLE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE!”

We switched on Vesta’s wireless, and like an act of Buddha, a familiar operatic voice began to sing, “Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?”

Lis and I serenaded each other, each dressed spectacularly. Lis had put on the Party Sombrero and wrapped a blanket around her torso as a sarape. I made a dress out of my blanket, and a thin tiara graced my head.

Things got especially interesting when it was at the “Bismillah!” part. That involved spasms, jumping on beds, and me pleading Lis, the Bismillah, to please, let me go.

Vest finally walked back in at the grand guitar solo and shook her head before she fell upon her bed. “Oh, Lily,” she sneered. “What would Quirke think?”

October 5, 1977

The dungeons

Dear Diary,

It’s a bit funny waiting for Severus, the night after I was waiting for Claudius the Lovely. I’m sure Lis would be horrified if she knew where I was, but alas, I didn’t tell her - couldn’t, really. The only person I could tell was Flora, because I knew she’d handle it beautifully. Honestly, if they made people sweeter than Flora Jane Randall, they’d be made of sugar. And I’d eat them, which would be a major problem on the sweet person front.

Oh, Severus is walking this way (after eight years of waiting). Write later.

Later

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Severus always manages to say something that makes me feel weird and uncomfortable.

While I was working on writing the hints for a Blemish Brew, he said, “I don’t know what their problem with you is.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Marigold Parkinson and that lot,” Severus said. “Marigold’s always going on about how revoltingly perfect you are. You’re too pretty, too popular, too smart…” He shook his head. “They’re just jealous anyway.”

“Oh. Have you told Marigold you’re working with me?”

Severus snorted. “Oh, that’ll get me invited to their blasted parties, fraternizing with the perfect daughter of Satan. Besides, have you told your little friends?”

“I told Flora Randall,” I said resolutely.

“You know I don’t mean her.”

“All right, I haven’t exactly told Lis and Ves yet. Yet,” I said, pointing at Severus, a smirk on his thin lips. “That doesn’t mean I won’t tell them eventually. Just…not…right now.”

“Why? Will they understand any better next week? Will I be any less snivelly?”

This was making me increasingly uncomfortable, so I said, “It’s just writing down Potions help. They don’t need to know.”

Severus turned away and said, “Right.”

October 7, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

This is approximately the five thousand and nine hundred sixty-second time that Ves has been out without telling anyone. Not even Flora, who’s in Ravenclaw and wouldn’t tell anyone anyway.

I feel violated and hurt that Vesta can’t even tell Lis, Flora, and me, the sisters destiny forgot to give her (instead, destiny gave her whiny Dido and Proserpine, who’s five).

Although, really, who am I to talk? I sneak out with Slytherin loons.

But it’s not like that!

October 9, 1977

Great Hall

Dear Diary,

Got letters from both Josie Prewett and Andromeda Tonks, two girls who befriended me when I was in second-year and pretty much a loser - no one knows how happy this is making me.

Here’s Josie’s letter pasted into you:

Dear Lils,

Wow, I can’t believe you’re in seventh-year! Seems like just last year I was in seventh-year and causing trouble with Rom and dating Fabian…

Speaking of which, Fabian and I are officially married! The justice, witnesses, VD tests, the whole kit and caboodle. Rom’s daughter, Dora, was my flower girl accidentally. You see, Rom had to take both Dora and Dem because their usual babysitter moved to Morocco or some bollocks. So Dora made a huge fuss, like four-year-olds do, until Rom said she could be the flower girl, not meaning anything by it. But Dora was determined and took the courthouse’s flower arrangement in the lobby and threw it all about. All in all, an agreeable way to start the rest of my life.

Ahh, I just can’t believe it happened! Soon it’ll be you, and I’ll be the crazy old aunt blubbering in the corner. But knowing you and your beauty, I won’t be old, just crazy. And I will be the godmother to any Potter babies you have. I’m a lovely influence; for cripe’s sake, I fight evil for a career!

Your newlywed friend,

Josie Prewett (hee!)

I’m going to have to write her back and tell her no Potter babies! Just lovely Quirke babies.

And Andromeda’s:

Dear Lily,

Did Josie just write about her wedding? Dim girl, of course she did. I’m surprised she managed to write so much - it was just Ted, Dora, Dem, and me. But she could write a novel just on the mere fact that her name is no longer Berkardt but Prewett; Josie is just that kind of a bint.

Because I’m not a prat like some people I know, I’ll talk about you. Besides there’s not a lot to be said about me. Dora is a mad four-year-old girl, Ted works, Dem poos, I lose my mind. Lather, rinse, repeat.

There’s a rumour round that you’re Head Girl and that bat friend of Sirius’s is Head Boy. How’s that working out? Who was it my year…? I think it was Amos Diggory and Harmonia O’Toole…oh, blimey, I don’t even remember anymore. THANK YOU, CHILDREN. THNAK YOU FOR RUINING MY ALREADY-TERRIBLE MEMORY.

Any boys? I still like the idea of you and Sirius, but maybe I’d just like to see my best little seventeen-year-old friend with my favourite little cousin. I’m sadistic like that? So anyone else? How bad is Potter this year? Soon he’ll realise he has no chance and set his sights lower. Like Farrah Fawcett.

Oh, boy, Dem calls. I bet he wants his nappy changed. Hell’s knickers - well, I’ll write more later, honest.

Rushedly,

Andromeda

Oh, I love them so much. I’ve hugged their letters a thousand times each.

October 11, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Ves is out again. The thing that makes me sickest is that I’m going to do the same thing tomorrow night.

Lis just walked in and said, “Ves out?”

Alice Levy, Rachel McGregor, and I just nodded. Lis sat down and said, “No respect. If she was going out, she could have at least taken the Party Sombrero.”

October 12, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

I should be meeting Severus in the dungeons; yes, I know.

...But the Party Sombrero beckons.

Okay, I took the Party Sombrero and left a note:

“L.S. - I went out, so I took the P.S. with me. - L.E.”

Later

Back in the dormitory

Dear Diary,

Severus was quite literally speechless at the sight of me in the Party Sombrero.

“Lily Evans, what is on your hea?”

I shrugged and said, “The Party Sombrero.”

He blinked and handed me the book. “Just work,” and muttered something that sounded like, “Silly girl.”

…Well, I thought it was funny.

October 14, 1977

By the lake

Dear Diary,

Lis has declared she has Chinese lady feet.

Vesta dropped a piece of parchment she was reading and said, “Sorry if this makes me sound a bit…er…lacking, but…what the bollocks does that mean?”

Lis then explained how Chinese ladies break their toes and bind their feet to make them look like size negative two.

Vesta snorted. “They don’t even make size negative two.”

“Well, not in Britain. That just wouldn't be wise. But I bet in China-land, that’s the only size they manufacture.”

Before Vesta could say anything mean and Vesta-esque to Lis, that well-known ball of energy, Carolina Bones, came over. Carrie’s nice enough, I suppose. Marigold likes to call her the “Evans of Hufflepuff,” which she probably thinks is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to her.

“Hello, ladies,” she said smiling. “I’m having a bit of a do for my birthday next week, the twenty-first, and, well, everyone knows you can’t have a respectable do without Lis Singleton, Vesta Casanova, Lily Evans, or Flora Randall -”

“Of course,” said Vesta matter-of-factly.

“So how about it?” Carrie asked desperately.

“Well, I don’t exactly know…” I turned around to look at Lis, Vesta, and Flora. I sighed like the Muggle film stars I’m always reading about and said, “I suppose we can squeeze it in our schedules.”

Carrie looked overcome with glee. “Really? Oh - that’s great! Wow! I can’t imagine the look on people’s faces when I say Lis Singleton, Lily Evans, Vesta Casanova, and Flora Randall are coming!”

Once Carrie was gone, Flora, in a rare bout of meanness, said, “See, Lis, Carrie Bones doesn’t have anyone to throw a do for her.”

“Aww!” Lis loves cheesy things like that. She threw an arm around Vesta and the other around me. Flora wisely inched away before Lis attacked her too. “I just love you three!”

Once she released us, she began to examine her black flats. “Now if only my feet were just a bit bigger than a size four…”

October 17, 1977

Waiting to meet Severus

Dear Diary,

Hah, Carrie was right. Word of the party has spread considerably ever since Carrie could say that Lis Singleton, Lily Evans, Vesta Casanova, and Flora Randall were coming. It’s nothing like Lis’s do, but all in all, pretty good for a Hufflepuff.

But Claudius hasn’t asked me to the party yet. Oh, Buddha, we’re back to this again. But he will! There’s no excuse for him not to. He knows I like him, he knows I’m going - come on!

Sadly, knowing the Lovely One, I will have to personally send him an invitation to ask me. Or - heaven forbid - I’ll have to ask him!

Oh, time to meet Severus and talk about more extremely uncomfortable topics. What’ll we talk about this week - the pros of the Dark Arts?

Oh, bugger.

Later

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

No, we talk about my deadbeat mother.

I was writing tips by a Calming Draught when Severus said, “So…which one are you like?”

“Hm?”

“Parent. Which parent are you like?”

Before I could really think about it, I blurted out, “Well, not my mum!”

Severus smiled, which I highly disapproved of. My mother’s leaving my family was not a laughing matter! “What’d she do?”

“She left my dad, my sister, and I for Italy.” Before Severus could pity me - although what Severus was I thinking of? - I quickly amended, “But she’d been a drinker for a long time, and really, we’re better without her.”

Severus was still smiling. Although why was I questioning it? I’d smile too if someone told me a heart-wrenching story like that…and I had no soul. “I bet you’re like she was.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Pretty, popular…” I gave him my very worst look. “Irascible.”

We just stood there looking at each other, the difference between us being the expression in our eyes. I’m sure my eyes would have burnt a hole in his head, while Severus’s dark, beady eyes just laughed at me.

“I bet you have her eyes, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Yes, I can see her fiery green eyes now…of course they’re yours now…”

Everything in me relaxed.

“But not red hair, no -”

Quietly I said, “Strawberry blonde.”

Instead of teasing me further, he gave a sympathetic look and said, “Maybe we should get back to work.”

October 19, 1977

Gryffindor Common Room

Dear Diary,

Vesta just asked me if Potter knew if Claudius the Lovely was my boyfriend.

I asked, “Why?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Goddammit, she walked away so now I can’t bug it out of her. Maybe I can call over Flora to get it out of her.

No wait - Flora doesn’t tell anyone anything.

Later

The lawn beside the lake

Dear Diary,

Class is over for the day, so I’ve changed into something a bit prettier than grey wool.

Namely a corduroy jacket, white shirt, and an old-timey floral skirt that goes down to my knees. I was going to steal Vesta’s strappy sandals, but they’re gone, along with their owner, which is quite odd, but, well, I’ve grown to not expect Ves to be around anymore. It’s pretty much an Event when she is around which usually involves Lis smothering the both of us.

Anyway, right now, I’m looking decent (if I do say so myself) and just hoping that Claudius the Lovely might happen upon me.

Wait…who’s that?

Oh, I bet it’s Claudius!

Hold on; I’ll write more after I’m done talking to C the L.

Later still

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Oh, God.

Lis is patting my back, telling me that really, I did the right thing.

But it sure doesn’t feel like it right now.

Potter came up and gawked at me for awhile. Instead of slapping him, I took a deep breath and said, “What do you want, Potter?”

“Hm?” He shook his head and sent his hair flying, which, I must admit, was an amusing sight. “Oh - oh, yes. Well, word has been travelling round a bit, and right now it’s saying that you, Lis, Ves, and Flora are going to Carrie Bones’s eighteenth birthday party thing.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

"And I was wondering if you’d go with me?” His voice got higher as he went along, ending in a positively squeaky high question mark.

“No, Potter,” I said, politely.

Usually, in the myriad of times we’ve done this before , Potter would just shrug and say, “Oh, all right.” But this time that stupid boy didn’t just walk away. He kept talking.

“Evans…why won’t you give me a chance? Not once in the five and a half years that I’ve asked you out have you ever wondered, ‘Hm - I think I’ll take a chance on that James Potter bloke,’ and I just want to know why.”

“Why?” This was going to be easy. “Because - because you’re mean! You’re rude towards me and others of my gender, you and Sirius do nothing but hex poor Severus Snape, and, despite whatever delusions you may have, you aren’t funny! Why would I want to take a chance on someone so disagreeable? Plus, I have not once heard you call me Lily!”

We were both quiet for a few minutes, and then Potter said, “Lily.” He paused, probably wanting me to absorb the shock of hearing my first name in his mouth. “I’ve changed; honest, I have. I haven’t hexed Sniv - Snape once so far this term, and I’m being nicer to the Hufflepuff girls - I haven’t called them fat and sassy once, I swear. And people are noticing, Lily. In fact, you’re the only one who hasn’t. Even the Queen of the Oblivious, dear Felicity Singleton, said something about it the other day.”

“Well, you haven’t changed toward me. You still sing ’Innuendo’ in my ear, and you still say awful things to me. To be quite honest with you, Potter, you’re just a misogynist.”

“But I don’t give massages!” he screamed with sincerity in his voice. I tried not to laugh, even though this was definitely a moment of drama and such. Finally, he stopped looking at me incredulously and just threw his hands in the air. “I give up, Lily. I give up caring!”

And for once, it hit me what I’ve done slowly to Potter all these years. So I ran into the dormitory, threw off my pretty clothes, and crawled into my jimjams and dressing gown.

That’s when Lis came in and discovered the tragedy. As a lover of tragic tales, she cried along with me while comforting me . Whatever else Lis may be, she is an excellent comforter.

Vesta just walked in and had the whole story explained to her by Lis. She just shrugged and said, “Well, why didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?”

I lifted my head and said, “Sorry, Ves, thinking rationally isn’t my strong point.”

October 22, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Well, the do was last night.

Lis went with Sirius, which put Sirius on about Cloud 900. However, Ves said that Sirius just wanted to infuriate Carrie, who’s in his legion of lusters (a luster…one who lusts, I think). Sirius is awful like that.

Ves thinks it hil-arious. She’s never really cared for Carrie, but being Ves, she never really cared for anyone. She’s soulless, like one of his lusters.

Anyway, the do was pretty much ordinary. People got drunk, which surprised Lis, who, in all honesty, thought that Hufflepuffs were physically incapable of consuming alcohol. I had to politely explain that she had been spending too much time with Ves. Sirius charmed every female in the room. Peter snogged some nameless friends of Carrie’s. Remus and Flora disappeared for a time (ooer). And Potter mooned about for me. If couldn’t have been more Wuthering Heights if he had been flailing about on a moor wailing, “Liiiiiiily!”

Once Potter and Sirius walked by, and Potter just gave me this “look” while I was standing with Claudius the Lovely, my date for the evening. I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there, unfazed. Potter walked off, but Sirius stayed nearby.

Drunkenly he nudged me. “Ah, doesn’t it jus’ hit ya right in the gut to see him like that? Really, it’s killin’ me to watch him. Sad to say it, but I think you broke him.”

Broke him? Like he’s some sort of Hummel figure! Psh. I rolled my eyes and said, “And this coming from a drunk bloke.”

CTL turned towards Sirius and said, “Are you bothering Lily?”

I pat Claudius the Lovely on the back and said, “No, it’s quite all right, love; see, Sirius was on his way.”

Sirius gasped and said, “You - little - minx!” before walking off.

Minx? Certainly I can’t be as bad as that! I had relegated myself to a heartbreaker, but a minx? That might be too much for my little heart to bear.

“What was that about?” C the L said.

“I can’t exactly say. Firewhiskey does strange things to people.”

Later

By the lake

Dear Diary,

We took a vote: we are all very ambiguous about Carrie’s do.

As Vesta said herself, “Nothing special happened. We all just got piss drunk.” She added with a smirk, “And we do that all the time.”

The topic soon changed to what Flora and Remus did when they both disappeared. Flora blushed and said, “Weeeeeeeeeell…”

The three of us were on the edge of our seats. Flora, the World’s Biggest Prude, had lost the Big V?

“We read some poetry. Really good poetry.”

This is why bookworms will never procreate.

October 24, 1977

Dying a slow death in Transfiguration

Dear Diary,

A small piece of parchment has landed on my desk…

…And it’s from my old chum, Remus.

L.E. - What’d you do to James? - a curious R.L.

I have scribbled a response really quickly because I don’t want McG to eat me.

R.L. - NOTHING!!!! I DID NOTHING AT ALL AND HE IS JUST A PRAT!!!! - a very calm L.E.

All right. In order to change a macaw into a…

Goddammit, it’s another note. Usually a calm, composed note like that would have slaked Remus’s curiosity, but of course he needs more information. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.

L.E. - Sure doesn’t sound like nothing to me. - an honest R.L.

Oh, for the love of Freddie Mercury’s tight trousers, does he have to know every bloody detail of my life? Is nothing sacred?

R.L. - Potter asked a question (“Why don’t you like me?”) and I answered (“Because you’re an arse and a half.”). He brought it upon himself to ask, and therefore I can’t find any sympathy for him. There. - an increasingly annoyed L.E.

Now. Back to my old chum the macaw…

Oh, hell in a wicker basket! Remus has written back yet again.

L.E. - Right. But what’s with this minx business that Sirius keeps bringing up? - a JUST INQUISITIVE R.L

Minx. And I had just begun to forget the whole minx ordeal.

R.L. - Sirius is under the impression that I led Potter on while I had a boyfriend. Seeing as I have always been rejecting him, because, as we both know, I am the Queen of Honesty, this is all a load of bull. - Queen of Honesty

So. On the macaw…

Well, Remus was quick with an answer.

My liege - Whatever you say, O Mighty Queen. - your humble servant

No matter how annoying he gets, I still love him in the end.

McG is now in my face. “Miss Evans, what is the first step into turning a macaw into a parakeet?”

October 26, 1977

Beside the lake

Dear Diary,

Lis has come up with a fabulous idea for Halloween costumes: Queen. She would, of course, be Roger Taylor; Vesta, the only one of us with truly olive skin, is Freddie Mercury (tight trousers and shirts and all); Flora is John Deacon; and I am Brian May (wig, which I will buy in Hogsmeade as soon as possible). Flora was disappointed because she wanted to be the Beatles.

“Flora. They’re not distinctive enough. They all had the same haircut,” Vesta said.

“They’re distinctive enough!”

“Oh?”

“John had glasses!”

Vesta pat Flora’s back and said, “One day you will see that you are proving my point.”

October 27, 1977

Hogsmeade

Dear Diary,

Sitting down for a bite with Flora. This has been an emotionally trying day.

Flora and I came into Hogsmeade in quest of some wigs, and it is driving me insane.

We walked by a shop, and I thought I saw something dark and curly, like Brian’s hair. So I pointed to it and asked the shopkeeper, “Is that alive?” (my years of visiting Hogsmeade have taught me things.)

The shopkeeper shrugged.

That’s the way it’s been all day. Which is awful, because, last time I checked, Brian May didn’t have red ringlets.

Later

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

We came back to school in disgrace. Nothing accomplished. Right now, Brian May’s a redhead.

…Hold on, someone just knocked on the Common Room door.

…How strange. It’s just a vial of Hair-Changing Solution which is left with a note that says, “For you, Brian May.”

This school can be so weird sometimes.

October 30, 1977

Gryffindor Seventh-Year Girls’ Dormitory

Dear Diary,

Lis, Ves, and I are now trying on our costumes, vain birds that we are.

Lis has this vapid expression that looks just like Roger Taylor; it is uncanny. When Lis first did it (unintentionally), Vesta and I just fell over and died laughing. Lis then scowled and said, “What?” all pissily, but we couldn’t answer for laughing. I don’t care that Lis is a pureblood: she and Roger are completely related.

Then, Ves came out wearing a tight tank top and trousers and gobs of eyeliner. I swear, there is a small country in Central America that will now be eyeliner-less for the next decade because of Vesta. Lis kind of snorted when Ves walked out and said, “Since when was Freddie Mercury a transvestite?”

Instead of snapping back, Vesta just kind of shook her head and said, “Since when was I?”

She turned to her sympathetic ear (i.e. me, I suppose) and said, “Do I look Arabian enough?”

I nodded while Lis said, “Arabian? But Mercury isn’t an Arabian name.”

Ves beat her head into the wall, while I politely explained, “Freddie Mercury’s real name is Farrokh Bulsara.”

“Oh.” Lis looked like her whole world had just been uprooted. “Well, you definitely look like a Farrokh!” she cheerfully told Vesta.

“…I’m not exactly sure if that’s a compliment.”

Then I changed, but it didn’t really matter because I’m saving the Hair-Changing Solution for tomorrow. Emmeline Vance, a sixth-year Ravenclaw, is having a fancy dress party that I’ll have to leave early to meet Severus in the dungeons. I am going to be Cinderella. In trousers. With long, curly hair.

October 31, 1977

Lavatory near the Ravenclaw Common Room

Dear Diary,

Popped out for a quick break - but oh - my - goodness.

The fancy dress party is absolutely marvellous. Emmeline Vance should be canonised or something.

Sirius (who is a pirate, for the fifth year in a row) smiled at me as I got some punch and said, “Really, you’re the spitting image of Brian May - except your eyes are a bit on the green side and not blue.”

“How do you know what colour Brian May’s eyes are?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I gaze into them on Moony’s poster on a regular basis, you lark.”

“Hey, Pads!” a voice called, and oh my, it was Potter in a whole new way.

He was dressed as a prince, and his broad shoulders looked very muscular, and…let’s just say I wasn’t looking away.

Sirius laughed again. “I see you’ve noticed dear Prongsie.”

“Potter!” I cried. “How - what - oh, what are you supposed to be?”

“Prince of the Pitch; can’t you see the Quidditch hoops on my back?” He turned around to show me three circle-y things with a single spindly leg. Since when were Quidditch hoops the sort of thing Pet studied in blodge two years ago?

“Eh…” I didn’t want to say anything on the risk of sounding a bit dim.

“Yes, I know, Wormtail drew the hoops, so they’re a bit off - but I think I look rather dashing, don’t you?”

Before I was forced to answer, Claudius the Lovely walked up and said, “So what’re you two doing with my girlfriend?”

I turned and looked at C the L and gasped in horror.

He is the Giant Squid. Complete with slime.

I never thought the day would come when Potter would be lovelier than CTL, but it is here, and apparently it is called Halloween.

So we started dancing together, which was really, really, uncomfortable because wherever he held me, I had a rather large wet spot. For instance, the spot of my jacket that sat upon my waist is sopping with slime.

Oh, look, it’s time for me to meet Severus - better say g’night to CTL, Lis, Ves, Flora, and Potter.

Later

Back in the dormitory

Dear Diary,

When I walked into the dungeon, Severus smiled and said, “Nice hair.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. “Thanks for the potion,” I said, realizing who it had been all along.

“No problem.” Severus kept on smiling, and I swear his eyes even twinkled. “Now get to work.”