Hey all. Okay, you know I don't own Harry Potter. This is dedicated to my darling Erin.
6:30 pm, Gryffindor Common Room
I see trees of green, red roses too, I see them bloom, Potter's a poo…
Yes, I have realised that I am insane. But it is no reason to dislike me. Pity me? Yes. Be afraid of me? Hell yeah! But dislike me? Nope! No reason to do that at all! Okay, there are a few zillion reasons not to like me, but we're not going over them now! So scoot! Anyway, in reference to my previous statement, you may be wondering what my evidence is for Potter being a poo. The truth is, I have none. Yes, you may berate me for making unfair accusations as it is (hem hem. clears throat for readying of pompous voice), "politically incorrect".
Well, stuff being politically incorrect! It's Potter! There's nothing correct about him or his dropkick friends! Yep, I am the queen of being negative to the "marauders". shiver even just saying the name makes me cringe. But yeah, I am the queen of all "I hate the marauders!" clubs and fan-girl bashings. So sue me! Actually, on second thought, don't. Kick your toaster instead. Ooooh...that sounds good. DEATH TO THE TOASTERS! leads loyal (cough cough) army into battle against kitchen appliances
Uh, Lily? Are you alright there?
What is this? These strange markings before me? What is this demon tongue? AND HOW DID IT GET INTO MY DIARY? MY DIARY!
Lils, these "strange markings" are words, and the "demon tongue" is the English language. And for how it got into the diary, I wrote it here, dumbass!
Oh.
Yes, oh.
Well, that explains a lot. Thank you Izzy for your insightful wisdom. Without you, I may have been forced to burn my darling diary (whom I have christened George), as to rid my life of evil.
…
Hmmmph. It appears that Izzy is too busy laughing to answer me. Some friend! Anyway, you may be wondering who Izzy and myself are. Well, brace yourself for a rambling, raving and, uh, recuperating speech!
Recuperating?
I needed a word that started with "R". Geez, don't get your socks in a knot!
I believe the correct article of clothing would be, "knickers".
Huh?
As in, "knickers in a knot"
Oh, that! Mere technicality! Anyway, onto my rambling, raving and recuperating speech!
Oh brother…
Shut up Izzy! As you may have noticed, Izzy is an acquaintance of mine (unfortunately). Jokes! She's one of my best friends, along with Sybilla Wilson, Jade Burgundy, Adam Zeller, and Tom Parker. Izzy (Isabelle) is the elegant one (DAMN HER!), Billie (Sybilla) is the clumsy and funny one, Jade is the Quidditch obsessed one, Adam is the pretty boy, and Tom is the immature one who gets us into trouble.
So, there's my friends in a nutshell, and on to me! I'm sixteen, have a dark-red mass of messy (And frizzy) curls for hair that is the spawn of the devil, huge emerald green eyes way too big for my head, pale skin, a fiery temper, and am unfortunately vertically-challenged. Most people, who are insensitive gits, would say I'm "short" but I have successfully brain-washed my friends into not using that despicable word. I have an older brother and sister, one who I love most dearly, the other I would willingly poke to death with toothpicks.
Toothpicks, Lils? Well, I guess it is inventive. Congrats, lils. Very creative and imaginative of you. I'm so proud! wipes tears from glistening eyes
Izzy! You're interrupting my rambling, raving and recuperating speech! Shame on you! Anywho, Matthew, my brother, is the best brother you could ever have. He makes you laugh and sticks up for you when you're fighting with your mum because you can't go shopping on Saturday (Oh! The tragedy!). He and I have rarely fought, and when there is one, he'll just start laughing and saying he's forgotten what you were fighting about in the first place. He is, of course, the one I love to death.
Petunia, on the other hand, could be brought to death by me, but the cause wouldn't be excessive love. She's horse-faced, boring, bitchy, and basically just a sad, sad cow.
Amen to that sister!
Yeah, I forgot to mention that all of my friends who have met her don't like her. She loathes them in turn which works for me! She leaves the house whenever I have mates over, so we have the whole house to ourselves if my parents are out. Anyway, away from the topic of my repulsive sister. (Anything to get away from that topic.) Ooooh. Its 7:00. Time to fill my bottomless pit of a stomach. I am now getting up from my oh-so comfortable armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room to walk to dinner. Mmmm. Food…..drools
7:04 pm. At dinner, Great Hall
Aaaaah, lemon meringue pie. drool So yummy….Wait, is someone talking to me? "EVANS! MOVE YOUR BUTT NOW! I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU TO GET TO THE PREFECT MEETING FOR TEN STRAIGHT MINUTES! MOVE!" Hmmm. Maybe someone was talking to me. I stand quietly, only tripping over once (go me!) and make my way out of the hall. I followed the Head Boy, struggling to catch up. Honestly, this guy is such a dickhead. He struts around, just as bad as the Marauders, and gives detentions to random little kids, but never from his house, Ravenclaw. I suppose he is smart, but that doesn't make him any less of a wanker!
7:23. Prefects Meeting, Prefects Common Room
So totally bored right now. Have resorted to writing in here to escape death by boredom. Hmmm, I wonder if anyone has actually died from boredom. Must ponder that. Hey. There's a shadow on my book! Someone standing over me! Pray for me diary!
…
Glad that is over! Got yelled at by Head Boy because I wasn't listening. Simply told him that I was busy pondering if people could die of boredom. Then I told him that if people could die of that particular reason, then he would be wanted for Murder. I don't think he liked it.
Hey! He just gave me detention for "cheek" and "disrespect". Grrrrrr. The other Gryffindor prefect (Remus Lupin. Annoyingly gorgeous bookworm. A Marauder with mystery) found my animal growl rather entertaining. Is currently laughing at me. Hmmmph. Why must everyone laugh at me? Oh great, Head Boy is now looking this way again. Bleaaugh. Head Boy (have now remembered his name; Sam. Sam Davidson) is now glaring at us both with hands on hips in a distinctively feminine way. Am struggling to keep laughter in. Remus has now noticed what I'm going red for and is laughing harder then ever.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ooops. I laughed. I am currently bright red, like a tomato. Remus has stopped laughing. I can see why. Sam is now going a rather violent shade of red and his left eye is twitching. "His red is rivaling my own!" I say in an indignant tone. Crap, I just realized I said that louder than I planned. Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God.
Everyone is looking at me with evil grins except for some random Hufflepuff fifth year who is staring at the wall with interest. Odd. I shrink back in my seat and try to hide behind Remus. Dammit! It's not working! Why couldn't Remus be a sumo wrestler or something? Then I could hide behind him and be his manager. Imagine the possibilities! He'd be the best sumo in the whole world, and we'd get heaps and heaps of money cause I'd take 40 per cent profits. Oh, that sounds good…. stares dreamily into space Er, back to reality.
Sam is now going off his head at me. Must stop this childish behaviour. "Sam, please refrain from yelling these profanities at me. Couldn't we just work this out like mature adults?" The room is silent. I can literally see tumbleweeds go past as aforementioned hufflepuff fifth-year accidentally set himself on fire and when he tried to put it out, he conjured tumbleweeds. Like I said, odd.
Sam looks down at me and says in dangerously quiet voice, "My name is Seth." Oh. "I could have sworn it was Sam! Are you sure it's Seth?" Seth-but-his-name-is-sure-to-be-Sam says a little bit louder this time, "I think I know what my own name is!" I look at him patronizingly, pat him on the shoulder and answer sweetly, "I don't think you do!"
He looks away from me and continues his boring speech on how we must exercise our authority carefully, protect the younger students, and uphold our pristine image as rule-followers. At this he looks at me and Remus. Remus rolls his eyes and mutters something and I poke my tongue out at Sameth.
Suddenly, a huge bang is heard outside the door. Seth-but-I-swear-his-name-is-Sam-and-so-I-shall-just-call-him-Head-Boy-or-dickweed opens the door and peered out. He looked back to the rest of us and saya in a sober tone, "Peeves. Quick, Greggs and McKinnon, come with me. Lanns, go get Filch." At this Matt Greggs and Marlene McKinnon leave with Dickweed and the random Hufflepuff fifth year, apparently Lanns, nods and promptly walks intothe door. Dorcas Meadowes rolls her eyes at the Hufflepuff unconscious on the floor, and looks right up at me, "Lily, you'd better get Filch."
WHAT! ME? GET FILCH? GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! I DAMN DORCAS TO HELL! Alright, calm down Lily. Just walk calmly to Filch's office, it isn't that hard. I stepped outside the door and promptly got knocked over by a figure sprinting in the other direction of Filch's office.
