A/N: Okay, it's been a while since I wrote the beginning chapters of this story, so I decided on a re-write. This is written very much (intentionally) in the manner of Bridget Jones's Diary. I also want to say that I love Miss A Jones's fic (also based on Bridget Jones's Diary) Anna Jones's Diary. Everyone should read it, as it is fantastic. Any similarities between these two fics is unintentional, as they both use the format of Bridget Jones. This story strictly takes the format and not the entire plot though.

Mostly I want to preface this story by stating that this is more a coming-of-age story than it is a romance. Therefore, the story line has a lot to do with sexuality, popularity, and what it means to grow up, and it is not strictly a romance story.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Harry Potter. Also, I own nothing of Bridget Jones's Diary. Or the song from which the title is taken, "You're All I Have" by Snow Patrol.

Property of Sigourney Montclair

Goals for My Seventh and Final Year at Hogwarts:

I WILL NOT…

Smoke.

Drink on school nights.

Eat over 2000 calories, except when binging for Quidditch.

Pull any pranks with the Marauders.

Procrastinate when it comes to Slughorn's essays.

Imagine my sister doing the nasty with ANYONE.

Skive on classes in order to get food from the kitchens.

Make fun of Severus Snape.

Use Quidditch as a means of avoiding confrontation.

Be mad at James because he got Quidditch captain instead of me.

Let anyone read this journal.

I WILL…

Win every Quidditch game.

Study for at least an hour each night.

Ace the NEWTs at the end of term.

Pay attention during class instead of goofing off with James and Sirius.

Be kinder and more generous with the other students.

Make friends with a girl. Any girl.

Be more confident with attractive single men. (As opposed to attractive single men that are strictly friends or relatives, like James Potter.)

Get a real boyfriend. (Making Mum insurmountably happy.)

Lose virginity, preferably with said boyfriend.

Write in this journal every day, as it should lead to excellent self-discipline.

Wednesday, 1 September

Weight: 134 lbs.
Calories: approx. 3,445 (so much food at the start-of-term feast!)
Drinks consumed: 3 Butterbeers, 5 shots Firewhisky
Cigarettes: 5 (enormous improvement from the last week now that I am no longer stuck at home with Mum)
Hours stuck talking to Lily Evans: 1/2
Hours spent studying: 0 (dreadful)
Number of best mates (knobheads) that just realized I have tits: 3

12:30 a.m.

My sister Mo (Imogene) tells me that a diary is where you keep track of your hopes, dreams, and resolutions. And of course, where you talk about boys.

According to my mother, keeping a journal is "extremely important for a sexually budding young woman," so when she forced this ridiculous thing into my hands, I thought it best not to argue. I immediately determined not to let anyone know I have a journal - a "diary," Mum insists - because it would probably ruin my reputation as the most Quidditch-obsessed, B-cup breast-sized, non-girly girl in Hogwarts.

James, surely, will think I've gone round the bend.

Let me say this clearly. I do not talk about boys. In fact, I hardly have any idea why I decided to listen to Mum and write in this diary (journal). Although, it may prevent me from having a row with Mum about dress robes (and why I don't need them in a brilliant shade of magenta). In any event, that hardly constitutes a good reason to keep a diary (journal). More importantly though, this should help me practice self-discipline (instead of getting drunk with James and skiving off classes like most of last year).

Not that today was a great start to the semester.

Mo, James, Sirius, and I all went to Nine and Three Quarters with Uncle Charlie (James's dad), and Mo immediately separated to join her friends. We also ran off to meet the blokes, and James and Remus ran off to the Prefect meeting. For some asinine reason, Dumbledore made James Head Boy - though I have to say, the pranks have cooled down a bit since fifth year.

Sirius and I went to hang out in our usual compartment, immediately joined by the other blokes: Chris Stone, Peter Pettigrew, Argyle Hambledon, Creighton Phillips, Cliff Owens, and Thom Sedgwick. When Remus got back, he, Sirius, and Peter ran off to do something ridiculous (probably pranking Snivellus or some other Slytherins). James didn't return right away - probably still fawning over Lily Evans, who was of course named Head Girl. Which left me alone with Chris, Argyle, Creighton, Cliff, and Thom, so what do you think we talked about? Quidditch. We were comparing the Holyhead Harpies and the Wimbourne Wasps for at least an hour.

After that, we subsided into our own conversations, and I chatted with Chris for a while before he passed out. You see, over the summer, Chris made a special request of me. He's got his eyes set on Ravenclaw fifth-year Mandela Harper, and for some reason, he made the realization that I too am a girl. So now, he insists that I need to befriend said girl and convince her to snog him or something.

Chris's exact words were: "Well, you're a girl, aren't you, Zigger?" And at my affirmation of said VERY OBVIOUS fact, he continued. "Well, then you know girls, don't you? Can you maybe talk to one for me?"

Okay seriously. Do I look like a bloody MATCHMAKER? Because I know nothing about women. Seriously, fucking nothing.

But after forever of him practically begging, I agreed. Then he told me about said beautiful bird that he wants to tame… Mandela Harper. Mandela fucking Harper. One of the closest friends of Sirius's most serious ex, Jasmine Snider (the cunt). (It was so serious (and she was the cuntiest) that Sirius and I actually stopped being friends for about a month.)

So I assured Chris that I would think about it. And I warned him that being friends with Jasmine Snider does not speak highly of her character. At all.

His response? He told me I was being "sweet," trying to look out for him. The wanker. And when I asked if he had spoken to Harper at all? "Stop worrying about me, Zig," he said. "Of course I've spoken to her. How else would I know she exists?"

How silly of me. What a stupid fucking question. Merlin forbid that he look at Mandela Harper and think, "Oh gee, that's a girl and she EXISTS." Observation is not a man's strong suit, let me tell you.

"You can at least talk to her about me, can't you?" he insisted. "I mean, won't she listen to you more than any of the guys? I'm not asking a lot, you know. Couldn't you just put in a good word for me? Just one?"

I probably could. But I don't want to. Not that she would listen to me if I did, though. Being friends with Jasmine Snider (again, the cunt), she probably wouldn't even look at me if I fell into her lap. Said cunt loathes me more than anyone else, I'm sure. Probably because she got the impression that it's my fault she and Sirius broke up last year. Which is completely ridiculous. Sirius was an idiot for shagging her in the first place.

So yeah, Chris begged and begged and begged and begged and fucking begged until I finally gave in and agreed. After which he told me I was "fantastic," a "great friend," and "absolutely brilliant."

After the conversation, Mo happened upon punching a pillow with both fists. She insisted that I'm pissed off because I was daft enough to agree to help the bloke I fancy get a girl that isn't me. She's jumping to conclusions. Still, I can't help it that Chris is bloody fit.

This being said, while we were talking on the Express heading for this glorious castle, Chris was insisting that I go and find Harper immediately to help him work his magic (pun partially intended). I did not - I repeat, did NOT - agree. I'm not spending my first day back in the world of sanity (albeit meager sanity) trying to get my friend laid.

So that's one friend who recently figured out I'm a girl. The other two did not make the realization until later that night.

The Sorting Ceremony was uneventful. Tasty food at the feast - I gorged. And then, Sirius told me that we need to "start this year out with a bang," and of course, I agreed. Until he told me that he and James wanted me to distract Lily Evans.

So let's get one thing straight.

I do NOT like Lily Evans. Not that I can say this, because James'd murder me. But we don't see eye-to-eye on anything. I spend most of my time on the pitch. She spends hers in the library. I love playing pranks with the blokes. She tells McGonagall on us. I'm related to James Potter. She wants him to stop being a prat and leave her alone. You get the picture.

I groaned, but I agreed to put myself through this in order for the group to have fun later. So while everyone else was setting up, I got to distract Lily Evans. Awkwardly.

"Hello, Sigourney," she greeted me. Aside from Mum (and the professors), she is the only other person who calls me that. To everyone else, I'm Zigger. "How was your holiday?"

For a little while, we subsided into niceties and pleasantries. Boring to say the least. Then she started to actually talk to me - like REALLY talk. It was weird.

She told me about her sister's wedding. Petunia. Apparently they don't get along.

And then, before we realized it, we were talking about her being Head Girl. While that seems like an easy topic, it isn't when James is Head Boy. And you know, she hates him.

"I never expected Potter to be Head Boy," she said, glaring at nothing. "No offense. It's just going to make it a difficult year."

I told her I understood. I was lying.

"James has a tendency to make things as difficult as possible," I said. "It's one of his favorite pastimes. And I think he likes getting a rise out of you more than anything."

"I don't understand why," she snapped.

I tried to explain. You know, like I would to a first year. "Evans, he really likes you."

"Yes," she said, "and I don't understand why. And I don't understand why Professor Dumbledore would EVER make him Head Boy. He's irresponsible, ridiculous, and big-headed. It's inconceivable!"

It was at this point that I decided that was a good enough distraction.

I humphed at Evans and crossed my arms. "You're pretty ridiculous and big-headed too, Evans," I glared. "You should try looking in a mirror before you start pointing fingers."

I didn't care that it was Head Girl Lily Evans or that she's supposedly the nicest girl in school. She's still got her head up her arse.

After that conversation, I smoked four of my five cigarettes. The fifth happened when I was drunkly playing chess with James.

At the end of the night, when we were all properly pissed, our group was the only one still awake. So we sat in a circle, laughing about Quidditch and pranks and taking shots of firewhisky. And then at the most annoying of times, the subject turned to girls. Which never used to happen. I've determined that puberty ruins everything.

I got to sit there awkwardly as they chatted. Most of the conversation though was James going on about none other than Lily Evans. Luckily I'm not the only one tired of listening to James preaching her virtues.

"Merlin, Prongs, will you shut up about Evans," groaned Sirius, clutching his head (probably the beginnings of a hangover). "She's not worth the time."

James always glowered when Sirius insulted Evans, and tonight was no different. The glower took on a drunken sickly look though. "Don't talk about Evans like that," he insisted, trying and failing to cross his arms.

Sirius was somehow the more sober of the two. "Seriously, Prongs, that girl has you twisted around her fingers, and you're too arse over tits to realize that she's doing it on purpose."

"Yeah," added in Chris, turning to me suddenly, "you should ask an actual girl what she thinks. Right, Zigger?"

All eyes turned on me, and I stammered. I don't know where Chris got the idea that I know anything about girls, playing hard to get, or relationships.

"You know," agreed Sirius, "you're right, Chris. Come on, Zig, help a mate out here. You know he needs help with Evans if he's ever going to get over her." When James insisted furiously that that was never going to happen, Sirius added, "Or win her."

There was a strange moment where almost everyone else seemed to announce their agreement and then they stared at me as if I had all he answers. For the record, I don't.

For a moment, I blabbered about nothing before settling on talking about how upset she was about James being Head Boy. "She's real bent up about it," I explained. "She just about had a fit when I was talking to her earlier."

Without warning, James's eyes lit up. "That's it," he cried. "You're amazing, Zigger."

I was so confused.

"You'll solve all my problems," he insisted. "You will become friends with her. I mean, you're a girl, she's a girl. I'm sure you've got loads in common. You were talking to her earlier and you got her distracted for plenty of time. Actually, she didn't come down to yell at us at all or fetch McGonagall. You're fantastic, Zig! You'll be grand friends, and then you can convince her to go out with me."

Sirius didn't look too pleased, and I must have looked aghast. But James was entirely unfazed.

I was so shocked by the situation that when he sent me to bed ("All right, Zig, you've got to go to bed NOW!" he insisted. "You need to be awake early in the morning so you can catch her before she goes to the Great Hall for breakfast because she's always there super early, and you need to catch her so you can walk there with her, okay?"), I couldn't do anything but nod and walk toward the stairs.

Sirius walked with me though, sending me a wary smile when we stopped at the base of the girls' staircase. "You'll be great, Zig," he said awkwardly.

I told him James was off his rocker.

"But they're right, you know," Sirius told me. "You are a girl."

So yeah. Congratulations to the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team and my closest mates. You finally figured out I'm a girl. It only took six bloody years.

Thursday, 2 September

Weight: 134 lbs. (no change)
Calories: approx. 2,115 (much better)
Drinks: 0 (brilliant)
Cigarettes: 1 (excellent)
Hours spent studying: 3 (if you add up the time between classes and at lunch)
Number of mates that owe me: 1
Number of people I've accidentally flashed: 13 (I think)

12:15 p.m.

Being the first day of classes, I decided to actually wear my uniform today. Which means a skirt. I've been making sure to keep my arse covered all day - which works best when actually wearing my robes.

McGonagall passed out our schedules this morning as I was stuffing my face with pudding. Since I've decided I either want to be a Curse Breaker for Gringotts or a Quidditch star, I'm taking a heavy class load this year. Arithmancy, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and of course, Ancient Runes. Today, we had double Potions (James and Sirius, wanting to be Aurors, were of course in class with me, as well as several other classes), and after lunch, I had Ancient Runes (with no one but Remus, a couple Ravenclaws, and Lily Evans).

At lunch, while I was trying to skim through my Runes textbook for a refresher, Chris was utterly relentless. Apparently I have to start on my extra-curricular projects immediately.

"Come on, Zig," he insisted, grabbing onto my wrist in determination. "You promised, so you know you have to."

I groaned. He owes me big time.

So here's the word on Mandela Harper:

Toothpick-thin. Gorgeous dark hair. Skin that's basically see-through. Ravenclaw. Best friends with Jasmine Snider, also a Ravenclaw, though a year older. She's smart, but as far as I know, she'd rather spend her time doing her makeup than studying. Maybe that's just the ridiculous amount of makeup she wears though.

As far as I know, none of the other blokes have dated or shagged her, so that's lucky for Chris, I guess. Probably make this task a whole lot easier too.

And just as I was gathering together my courage, that knobhead nudged me in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. And by nudged, I mean pushed. Right into Snider and her band of cunts. And I'm wearing a fucking skirt today too. So not only was that fucking embarrassing because Snider laughed at me, but it was also humiliating because I flashed at least half a dozen people my arse.

Anyway.

I mumbled an apology, and all Snider did was snort derisively (I'm surprised she snorts at all - it's "unladylike") and say, "Gods, Montclair, haven't you learned how to walk yet?" The other girls laughed, even Stone's precious Mandela Harper. (I am NOT jealous.) "You'd think they wouldn't let babies into Hogwarts. Must be your rich mommy and daddy helping you out."

Not sure why she was trying to take a jab at my parents because she's pretty well off too.

Once I steadied myself, I shrugged my shoulders and replied quite coolly, "Well, if they're letting babies in, they're apparently letting bitches in too. Otherwise, how would you be here, Snider?" Her eyes narrowed but I didn't let her finish. I just looked at Harper and smiled, bidding her (and only her) a good day.

Dear Godric, Chris Stone owes me big time.

2:55 a.m.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Remus sat with me in Ancient Runes while I tried to remember everything I forgot over the holiday. Evans was huffing in the seat behind us at the racket I was making.

We joined the others for dinner and then headed back to the common room for momentary relaxation before Remus dragged James, Peter, and Sirius to a table in order to force the boys to study. I went to my room and tried to take a nap before bedtime. So here I am awake at three in the morning.

Friday, 3 September

Weight: 134 lbs. (not sure why I even care to check)
Calories: somewhere around 2,000 (I stopped keeping track, so rough estimate, not including alcohol)
Drinks: 7 (it's Friday!)
Cigarettes: 16 (very bad, but was drunk, so excused)
Hours spent studying: 1 (good enough)
Dormmates that I consider friends: 0
People that have fallen in love: 1
People that have fallen in love with my help: 0

9 p.m.

Let's put it this way: I am not friends with any of the girls I share a dorm with. These four girls are as follows…

Lily Evans, of course. Head Girl and snottiest Gryffindor I've ever met. The love of James's life (or so he claims), and just as conceited as he is. Sometimes I think they're made for each other because they're both equally prejudiced and proud. Other times, I want to smack him for even considering her. Because seriously, she's not that great.

Mary MacDonald. She's ridiculously bright and generally kind. She's probably the one that I get along with best. Though that's not saying much. Especially considering she is a ridiculous flirt and gossip. She's dated half the guys though, so that's probably why I know her so well.

Emmeline Vance. The other girls all call her Emmy. Which to me sounds like a super dumb nickname, but whatever. She's kind of stuck-up, and her face has really sharp edges. We don't get along at all.

And Hestia Jones. She's kinda plump and has really pretty dark hair. She's the quietest of them all. Kinda reminds me of a female version of Petey. Which means kind of meek and shy. Not necessarily that bright, but with good intentions.

So yeah, we're not really friends. The four of them are all the best of friends though, which means that when we're all in the dorm at the same time, it's really awkward. To be fair, I don't spend much time in the dorms. I'm usually with the blokes. Practicing Quidditch. Pretending to study. Playing Exploding Snap. You know, goofing around.

But after a long day of classes (DADA with the new professor, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration), I'm exhausted. And for some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to try to go to sleep early.

BAD IDEA!

Apparently, they're having some sort of hen night, so I laid here for a while, trying to sleep with the curtains on my four-poster drawn, until their racket was too much to handle and I dragged this thing out of my nightstand.

Beyond the curtain, they were doing their nails, talking about boys, and giggling. Merlin, I loath giggling.

"So Emmy," Mary began, grinning from ear to ear (I imagine), "who's the lucky bloke you're gonna snag this semester?"

Vance responded slowly, with precision. "I haven't picked anyone out in particular yet," she said, and the others giggled. "Though I have to say that I have my eye on a few potentials."

"Who?" asked Jones.

"Lupin," she laughed, and it's a high-pitched, tinkling laugh (evil laugh). "Or Potter if he'd ever get over you, Lily. And Sedgwick is ridiculously fit this year - did you see him?"

Gross. Listening to girls talk about your mates is weird. Thom might go for her, but I doubt Remus would. And everyone knows James will never get over Lily - the idiot.

"What about you, Tia?" Vance asked the next girl.

Jones responded slowly. "Well, I don't know. I'm not really into the conquests like you are, Emmy," she said.

Vance snorted in response. "Yeah right."

Hestia Jones may not be the most fit girl in our year, but she's pretty. And she knows it. She's only dated Sirius of the group, but so have Vance and Mary. In fact, Evans is the only one of them that hasn't dated Sirius. To be fair, Sirius has dated so many girls in the past three years, it's kind of ridiculous. "Well," she admitted, "I do rather fancy Owens."

"Cliff Owens?" Mary laughed. "Yeah, he's cute. Personally, I've had my eye on Stone the past two days. Can't take my eyes off him, actually."

Finally, Lily Evans spoke, I imagine whilst looking up from her book. "Oh please," she groaned. "Will you lot quick going on about those boys? It's exhausting." For the first time ever, I was thankful that Lily Evans said something.

Mary giggled (gross). "Well, Lily, if you ever manage to break down and get in Potter's pants, maybe it wouldn't be so irritating. Besides, I can't help it that they're the fittest bunch in Hogwarts." Extra gross.

"Seriously, though," Evans continued, "don't you find it awful how they mistreat their girlfriends and then they have the nerve to dump them and within days find another stupid girl." Lily Evans is perhaps the only girl who has never dated one of my mates. And for good reason. James would murder them.

I took a peak through the curtains to see the others' reactions. Honestly, they all looked kind of guilty, even Mary.

"Godric's ghost," Evans said as she snapped her book closed, "I sincerely wish someone would do something about it. I mean, honestly, girls keep fawning over them, and they hardly deserve it. Somebody needs to teach those boys a lesson in respect."

Then, there was a glint in Mary's eye. Merlin knows, that's never a good thing. "Well," she said, "if you really want someone to do something about it, why not us?"

Well, that was quite an interesting development.

Evans looked at her closely. "What could we do? They'd hardly learn anything from us."

They all sat in silence for a moment, considering the situation.

At last, Mary spoke. "Well, we'd need help," she said, "and a plan, of course."

"Help?" Evans asked. "From who?"

Mary leaned forward conspiratorially. "Have you guys met the new sixth year? Isabeau Chevalier?" The others shook their heads and uttered "no"s with anticipation. "She transferred from Beauxbatons. She'd be perfect."

Well, as soon as I could (being almost an hour later), I went to find the blokes to talk to them about this new development. Frankly, it didn't go as planned. Because Sirius Black is the biggest idiot I know.

"She's perfect!"

"What?" I said, completely aghast.

"She's perfect," he repeated, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

James, Remus, and Peter all rolled their eyes. He had probably been saying something along these lines for a while, though to be fair, this is his normal behavior when he meets a new girl. Once he gets a girl in his head, he hardly talks about anything else, even Quidditch. So we've all heard it before. This is nothing new.

But still.

"Are you serious?" I couldn't help asking. "The transfer from Beauxbatons? The French girl?"

Sirius sent me an angry look. "Really, Zig, of course I'm serious." (And he was - not even making that ridiculous joke.) Stupid question. "Besides, have you even seen her? She's gorgeous!"

"Have you even spoken to her?" I demanded.

"Do I have to?" he asked, looking confused.

"Good Godric, you haven't even spoken to her?" I cried. To be fair, I'm always the one that tries to knock some sense into the idiot. By now I should know better. He never listens to me.

I could kind of feel James glaring at me. Maybe it was in my head. But I think he kind of resented me for not getting Evans to go out with him already. At least he did once he was faced with the fact that Sirius will probably be getting a new girlfriend within a week. Everybody knows, no one can resist the Sirius Black charm.

Saturday, 4 September

Weight: haven't gotten up to check
Calories: approx. 600 (barely ate anything)
Drinks: 0
Cigarettes: 8 (better)
Hours spent studying: 0
Hours spent with a hangover: all day

2:45 p.m.

Woke up an hour ago. Feel like shite. Not going to do anything today. Extremely hungover.

Last night, after I almost tried to give Sirius an intervention, we just hung out for a bit. James was irritated (and trying to be a goody-two-shoes for Lily freaking Evans), Remus was tired, and Peter decided to hang out with James.

So it was just me and Sirius, getting drunk in the common room while James moped upstairs with the others. Sirius, of course, was completely oblivious to James's moping and was his usual cheerful self. By cheerful, I mean ridiculously cheerful. Like scary levels of cheerful. So cheerful that I chain-smoked over a dozen cigarettes. He, of course, joined in before we went back up to his dorm and passed out on his bed, pissed and laughing like buffoons.

He is still passed out, even though it's almost three. The others appear to have left us here.

I guess I will pull my shite together and head back to my own bed. It's comfier when you don't have to share. Sirius looks ridiculous when he's unconscious though. And he's snoring.

Sunday, 5 September

Weight: 133 lb. (apparently not eating anything yesterday did something)
Calories: approx. 2,100 (gorged myself at breakfast)
Drinks: 0 (excellent)
Cigarettes: 12 (making up for no alcohol)
Hours studying: 6 (making up for yesterday)
Hours examining best mate's future girlfriend: 1 (not bad)

11 a.m.

Well, I've decided to let the conversation I overheard the other night slide. For now, at least. I don't really see it going anywhere at this point. I haven't noticed any interaction between Lily Evans and her friends and this Isabeau Chevalier.

Speaking of the French girl, I don't really know what to make of her. I watched her at breakfast this morning, trying to figure her out. She sits at the Ravenclaw table, looking perfect. (Don't all the ladies from Beauxbatons, though?) She doesn't talk to anyone, and all the Ravenclaws seem afraid of her.

She definitely is gorgeous though. Pretty blonde hair, sparkling eyes, thin but curvy. Basically what every guys wants in a girl. I guess. Certainly what Sirius wants in one.

Not that he's gotten up the nerve to speak to her yet though. Most people would think that he's courageous when it comes to girls (he is a Gryffindor), but that's rubbish. He's really shy and nervous around the opposite sex, actually. And it's absolutely hilarious when it plays out. I don't think I want to see this one play out though. Especially not after hearing Evans' suggestion about sticking it to the blokes.

This is exactly why I don't trust women. They're all hiding something.

7:15 p.m.

After breakfast, I spent much of the day studying for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy in the common room. They're my hardest two subjects, and we already have loads of work assigned in both. I wrote essays and studied until my head hurt.

Barely saw any of the blokes today. They'd stop and say hi, but most of them don't interrupt when I'm studying (except James and Sirius, neither of whom has any tact, but they were both busy, probably planning pranks).

Tomorrow's classes again, so nothing to drink tonight (hurrah!), and honestly, I think I'm going to go to bed early.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a review!

Anatui