Author's Note: OK, I've never written anything quite like this before, and it might be rubbish, so please, do let me know if you love it or hate it. Then I'll know whether to keep writing or not!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all. Sadly.

I can't believe I'm actually writing in this stupid old book. Really, really stupid. I'm supposed to be the smart one and the clever one and the rational level-headed one. So why am I venting into an old, decrepid, battered diary? Goodness only knows.

I guess, if I'm being logical, in my usual fashion, I'm just sounding my ideas and rantings and ramblings into an inanimate object because it's better than telling one of my so-called friends, and breaking my facade of perfection that everyone else seems to think I have. It's so hard, you know. If you ask anyone, I'm sure they'd say I've plenty of friends. But it's not true. If you're Head Girl and most popular girl in the entire of Hogwarts, how are you supposed to know who likes you for you, and who likes you because everyone else likes you?

And they do. Everyone. Even Severus Snape, who likes to pretend that he hates me, and calls me a Mudblood infront of everyone else; even he likes me really. I can tell. Mostly by the way I'll see him avoid the chances that come up often to mock or taunt me. There they go, hanging in the air, comments waiting to be said but... nothing. From anyone.

Being liked by everyone can sometimes be such a pain.

I think that's it for a rant for today.

- - - -

A new page for a new rant. And of course, something new to think about.

If it wasn't remarkable enough that I picked up this tattered old thing in the first place, then it's practically astonishing that I returned to it again. There's no dates in here, but this is actually later the same day as that first thing I wrote. I couldn't believe just how therapeutic it was to have written like that. For the first time in weeks, my headache was actually fading and I felt some of that good humour for which I seem to be so well known returning to me.

In such a mood, I could even almost cope with James Potter. And that's saying something.

Not that he's not completely adorable, of course, as everyone knows. And there's something about the way in which he doesn't even notice the other girls competing for his attention that is endearing and... I don't even know what it is. But it's a good thing.

That aside, I still need my strength for dealing with him. It's like getting a crush on someone who is completely off limits because they're your best friend's ex or something. Not that I'd know what that means, obviously. As you know from my earlier rant. But you get my point.

And it's stupid, because the only limits that he's breaking are set by me. Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy.

But I refuse to date, or even admit to caring for, anyone who shows such blatant disregard for the feelings of others. And by others, I don't mean his collection of fan girls.

Oh my... I just called them fan girls. What am I thinking?

I need sleep.

- - - -

So... I can't sleep. I can't help it. It's an Evans family trait, insomnia. Not many people know that. Technically, I suppose, this is just a book, so, still no-one else knows, but... Yes, yes, I'm rambling. I'm sleep-deprived. Go figure.

I've been thinking about Remus. And Sirius. They're like a scale, with one of them at either end, and James in the middle. Remus is so... good. Really, he's intelligent and sensible and yes, he's cute. So is Sirius I guess, but in a bad-boy sort of a way. If he was a muggle, he'd ride a motorbike and wear a black leather jacket. Who knows, maybe he'll get one some day. It'd suit him. I can see Sirius, looking all handsomely rugged and riding a big black Harley, the wind in his hair...

I need to stop this. I need to stop fantasising about any male that comes into my head. But, I can't help it. Call it distraction tactics. If I'm thinking about everyone, then I'm not thinking about someone, anyone, in particular, and I'm not getting attached. And if I'm not attached, I can't get distracted. Which is important, because I'd like to pass my NEWTs.

I know that I'm really getting desperate when I start thinking of Peter in that way. Friendly as he is, you can't help thinking that he's a bit... I don't know... pathetic? Is that even the right word? Maybe, maybe not. But however he is personality-wise, he's certainly not a looker. And I say that with no blemish whatsoever on my conscience, because whilst I would never condone not loving a person because of their looks, I think that it is kind of important for them to be at least vaguely attractive if you're going to fantasise about them.

You know what I've just thought? I really, really need to put some kind of protective charm on this now. Else you know what will happen; one of those boys will find it and then I'd never live it down. Especially not calling James 'adorable'.

So, I'm going to charm and I'm going to sleep. Hear that brain? Time to go to bed!

I hope it listens.