A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic, and I hope you enjoy it! I sort of know where I'm going with this story, but as of now, only a very tiny bit of the second chapter has been written. Oh, and if you're wondering about the title, it will all be explained very soon, in the next chapter. Here goes...

-edit-

Right. This has not been updated in a looong while and I'm sorry to say that I haven't been working on it either. So this is what I'm gonna do. I'll leave this up, but once I've rewritten and completed--yes, completed--this multi-chaptered fic I'll take this one down and put the new (and hopefully better one) up. :)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Assassin

Chapter One

Friday, 1st September 1994, Home Sweet Home

The inevitable has happened. Summer holidays are over and it's back to school for witches and wizards everywhere.

As usual, I don't know whether to be nervous or excited. I mean, I love Hogwarts, but sometimes, it just doesn't seem to love me back, you know?

Oh Merlin, I'm talking to my diary. It's a bit creepy after what happened to Ginny in our first year. You know the whole diary-talks-back-and-posseses-girl-to-kill-muggle-borns-and-vandalise-walls thing.

Okay, that was mean. I shouldn't be saying that about Ginny. She's only been my best friend since first year; ever since we found out we shared a common obsession: Harry Potter a.k.a. the boy-who-lived.

Now I could go on and on about his haunting green eyes and wonderfully messy black hair that I can just run my hands through - but I shan't. Mum is yelling at me to pack up what's left of my stuff.

Thank Merlin it's Saturday tomorrow.

Still Friday, Hogwarts' Express

I've decided I'm excited after all. How could I not be, seeing Ginny and Gwen after so long?

They've really grown a lot. Both of them have shot up another five inches while I'm still stuck at my measly height of 5"1, which is pathetic, considering that I've grown a total of one inch over two years. Mum says I'll shoot up when I hit puberty, but can I wait that long? I feel out of place when I'm standing beside my fellow Fourth Years. I won't even be surprised if at the Welcome Feast later when the prefects lead the First Years to their dorms they'll be all, "First years this way! Hey you over there, yes you, all 5"1 of you, don't straggle behind or you'll get lost!" Lucky for me though, Ginny's brother Ron and Hermione are prefects this year, so they'll know not to embarrass me like that. At least, Hermione won't.

It might sound crazy, but Hermione and I are rather good friends. She's only a year older after all, and seeing as we both hang out at the Burrow a lot, we've gotten to talking, initially about classes (she's a life saver with Potions, of which I am very grateful for) and Professors (McGonagall is strict but fair but gives Harry too much leeway – I'm on Harry's side with this, it's totally not his fault after all) and how Ron is such an idiot (that was when he accidentally set her hair on fire – what a laugh), but after a while we moved on to muggle stuff like movies (I really do believe movies depict real life, especially the ones where two people fall in love – I like to pretend the bloke's Harry and the damsel is - surprise, surprise – me!) and politics (personally I find this a bore – Hermione pretty much does all the talking, she's very opinionated) and how ball point pens compare with quills (pens, hands down – quills are way too messy).

Speaking of which, Hermione has just entered the compartment with Ron and – squeal! – Harry. I can feel Ginny getting all tense beside me and I sit up a little straighter.

"Hey," says Hermione as she smiles at us all. Her hair is still as frizzy as ever. In fact, the only time it wasn't frizzy was at the Yule Ball last year. I didn't actually see it, of course. Ginny told me everything – she's so lucky to have gone! She went with Neville, who's this really nice - if a bit shy – boy in Harry's year. But who am I to talk, I can feel my hands getting clammy just at the sight of – the Great – Harry Potter.

Oh my god, did he just smile at me? I hope he doesn't think I'm a freak, scribbling away in my diary like this. Maybe I should shut this and make conversation instead. But what could I say? "Harry, I've been in love with you since I heard your blessed name and I think you have the most enchanting green eyes that look like the most beautiful emeralds, which by the way, was my grandmother's favorite jewel, and your hair, it's just so adorably messy and I want to touch it so bad." He probably gets that all the time. I mean, just look at him. What girl could resist?

"Megan, how was your summer holidays?" This was Hermione.

"They were fine." Actually, they were spent pining for Harry and cursing the fact that Ginny hadn't invited me to visit the Burrow, seeing as her dad was facing some problems at the Ministry. Speaking of which, I officially hate the Daily Prophet. Who do they think they are, printing such blasphemy about poor Harry? It's not like he asked to be famous; he didn't ask for that scar, or that hair, or those eyes… but he got them anyway.

"So, Ron, you were saying – about those Quidditch plays?" I don't know why, but just hearing Harry's voice makes me smile. I can't help it – this big goofy grin just creeps up the sides of my face. Oops, Hermione's looking this way, better not let her see it. Ginny looks like how I feel. Everyone knows she's had a huge crush on Harry since before she came to Hogwarts so it's okay for her to look like that. Harry seems okay with it as well. She is so lucky. Gwen keeps shooting us disgusted looks, darn her. She doesn't see how cute Harry is; in fact, she's joining in the discussion with Ron and Harry about Quidditch! She is such a tomboy.

So Harry, Ron and Gwen are talking about Quidditch, Hermione is buried behind a book, and Ginny and I are just sitting here staring at Harry.

Yup, everything's normal.

Still Friday, Girls' Dorms, 11 p.m.

I should probably be getting to sleep now, but I just had to write about this. Anyway, tomorrow's Saturday, so I can sleep in.

I just had my first, first ever conversation with HARRY POTTER!!

Conversation (n.): the activity of talking to somebody informally.

And boy, did we talk informally. I even made him laugh. Yes, little Megs White actually made The Great Harry Potter laugh!

Okay, so this is how it happened.

It was after the sorting (the usual bunch of scared-looking first-years) and the feast had started. Everyone was tucking into their food and catching up with one another after the holidays. I was feeling a bit nervous, because, due to some careful maneuvering and lots of elbow-shoving, I had finally managed to get a seat across from – you won't believe this – HARRY himself! Unfortunately, Ginny and I had been separated by the crowd and she ended up sitting with Gwen and Tiffany, another girl in our dorm. Okay, so I felt a bit guilty, sitting so close to Harry and all without Ginny, not to mention that the looks she kept shooting me weren't helping in the least. I hate it when she does that. It makes me lose my appetite and feel a bit nauseous.

But of course, with Harry seating just across from me (insert swoon here and big sigh of adoration), I want to portray myself as normal as possible. Like, if I didn't eat, he would think I was one of those anorexic girls you see on television with their bony shoulders and stick-out ribcages who only eat lettuce and carrot sticks. Which is totally not who I am; I enjoy a good steak-and-kidney pie as much as the next girl (that is, if she isn't sticking a finger down her throat and throwing it up later). No, I'm not fat. But I'm not skinny like Ginny and Gwen are either. They have like, really good figures. I know because I see the way guys look at them when they dress up. Even Gwen, who has a reputation for being a tomboy, has had three confessions and a stalker, whom she calls Creepy Creevey.

I'm serious; he goes around with a camera around his neck and takes pictures of Gwen; we know because we've seen him at her quidditch matches. Romilda Vane, another girl in our dorm, claims that he has posters of Gwen all around his bed, attached to the wall with permanent sticking charms. Of course, Romilda would know. She's the most boy-crazy in our year. Gwen tries to avoid him as much as possible, although it's a bit hard, what with him being in all our classes not to mention our house.

To be honest, I wouldn't mind a boy who showered so much attention on me. I know if I tell Gwen or Ginny this they'll just laugh at me, so I wrote it in you, Diary. I know all my secrets are safe with you. You'd never sell me out like Jenny Flooger did, no way. That's partly because you'd have no way of doing that, what with having no mouth and all, but I prefer to think you're just cool that way.

So, at dinner…

"You're Megan right? Ginny's friend?" I nearly spat out my pumpkin juice. Thankfully, I tried to choke discreetly instead. Imagine the fiasco I would cause if I coughed up pumpkin juice all over Harry Potter. I would have to walk around with a paper bag over my head and possibly never be able to show my face in the Wizarding World ever again. I would have to live like a muggle, or worse, move to some remote country where there are NO Daily Prophets and the chances of seeing Harry would be zero to none! Nooooooo…! Thank Merlin, the pumpkin juice went the way it was supposed to (meaning down, instead of up), and those green eyes could once more haunt my every living second.

"Yes! I mean, yes." Calm down, calm down, breathe Megan breathe!

"Yeah, I thought I recognized you." He nodded. I felt like doing a Victory Dance right there. Harry Potter remembered me! "So…" he started casually, as if searching for a topic. "What classes are you taking this year, Megan?"

Oh. My. God. Harry Potter wants to know what classes I'm taking. Me mememememememememe! Sorry Diary, I almost tore the page, what with scribbling so hard on you. Quill nibs can be quite sharp, as I'm sure you know.

"Um," I started, reeling the thoughts off the top of my head, "the usual classes, plus Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies and Divination."

"Trelawney's a right phony, isn't she?"

I laughed nervously and hoped that none of the teachers would happen to pass by when I said my next words. One can never be too sure though, so I leaned forward a tiny bit and whispered, "Personally, I think she's the worst teacher in Hogwarts. Gin says that she was probably born on Uranus. Oh!"

I blushed right there and then. What a great time to finally get the joke.

Thankfully, he just nodded knowingly and grinned. Merlin, I love his smile.

"It's okay; it's hard for me to keep up with Hermione sometimes, too."

I nodded and gulped. I could still feel the heat on my cheeks. Argh. How do I stop blushing? But that was the thing. Around Harry, I couldn't help it.

There was an uncomfortable silence while I blushed and Harry carefully cut another piece of his steak-and-kidney pie.

Was this, then, to be the end of our extremely short-lived, sort-of, friendship? No. No. It wouldn't be. I wouldn't let it. This might possibly be my one and only chance to be this close to the boy-who-lived, to get him to remember me, to establish myself in his mind, not as "Ginny's friend" but "Megan White, friend and confidante". Well, maybe not confidante, but definitely friend, and maybe, one day, confidante. Whatever secrets Harry Potter chooses to confide in me I will keep in the most secret corner of my mind, alongside my fetish for shoes. Oh no, I did not just write that.

But it's okay Diary, like I said, I trust you. I wish Harry Potter would trust me too. Pray that it is not only a schoolgirl's dream.

But I digress. So I thought, what do we have in common? And the first thought was 'Ginny'. She's his best friend's little sister, and I'm his best friend's little sister's best friend. It therefore makes sense that we should be together! Sorry, got a bit carried away there, and now that I read it over, it doesn't make that much sense at all, does it? Darn. Anyway, back to Ginny.

So I said, "You know, Ginny's done some pretty bad things to Trelawney, but it cracks everyone up all the time."

"Really? Like what?"

And conversation was smooth from there. I can't recall every single bit of it, but I can tell you, it was great. Indescribably great. It lasted all the way 'til the end of dinner, at which time Ginny came and dragged me away from Harry.

Alright, so we talked about Ginny, and he laughed at Ginny's antics, but I was the one who described it to him thus indirectly causing him to laugh, I was the one who saw his eyes sort of crinkle up when he laughed, and his straight white teeth, and the way I stopped breathing when his eyes locked with mine… I want to treasure that moment forever. I shall name it "The Moment That I Made Harry Laugh". It shall be framed and stuck up on the ceiling above my bed so it will be the first thing I see as I wake up each morning and the last thing I see every night.

Well, good night Diary! Sleep tight! I know I will.

A/N: Well, so how was it? Does it sound like a fangirl obsessing over Harry? Haha. I'm trying not to make her a Mary Sue (people generally aren't too fond of them).

Thanks for reading anyway :)