The Diary of R J Lupin
KEEP OUT OR FEEL THE FORCE
I really don't know why I let Sirius read this. I mean, it is obvious that he is going to wreck the whole book with his terrible, almost impossible handwriting but honestly: "Feel the Force"? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Okay, so reasons why my life has far crossed the borders of insanity and is currently lurking somewhere among the vast planes of the very, very deluded and the criminally insane:
I am a werewolf – you know the big furry, fangy thing that frolics around in the full-moonlight?
I am a Marauder – need I go on?
I am friends with Sirius Black – you're really asking a lot of me here…
I recently read an article in the 'Prophet which stated that if you read more than four textbooks in a week you are, in fact, a Noggin. I ask you, a NOGGIN!
I attended a fancy dress party dressed as a Christmas tree in front of the whole school – which would have been fab and groovy and spectacularly funny IF Sirius hadn't altered my calendar, henceforth leading me to believe it was Christmas when it was, in fact, EASTER, making me the laughing stock of the school FOREVER! H-I-L-arious Sirius, really, I weep with laughter –not.
And last, but by no means whatsoever least, probably the most likely reason of all for my madness is in the shape of a girl – no younger than myself in fact. Her name is Caiti. Caiti Fawcett and she is in my class for, well, everything except Ancient Runes as she does not take it anymore.
Oh yes, I, Remus John Lupin, am in love, with the most punky, rebellious, outrageously beautiful prankster this school has ever known – and no, she is not Sirius in drag thank you very much.
She is a scandal, a drug addict (Marijuana I think…) a "Rough-ian" as McGonagall puts it and above all, she smokes, drinks, parties hard and does not give a damn about what anybody thinks about her.
I know, she sounds terrible doesn't she? But, to me, she is an Angel. All I have to do is make her mine…somehow. That is easier said than done by far, of course.
Someone like her does not fall in love with someone like, well, like me, do they? They tend to like people more of, say, Sirius' state of mind; who'll sweep her clean off her feet and whisk her away to the nearest club or bar and get her completely dithered before taking her back home to-
Oh, be still my beating heart!
No, forget it Lupin, she is not for you. Her beauty and wit would just be wasted on the dithering, gabbling wreck that is yourself.
How to describe her from a completely none-biased point of view…
Well, she has long hair: electric blonde with vivid pink streaks from the centre after she read an interview in a Muggle magazine which stated that a member of some band or another that she likes always goes for the more outrageous girls of the world – I like his style…
Ocean blue eyes, the kind you just sort of, well, melt into I guess. Captivating, extraordinary, hypnotising and all the trimming's, darkly rimmed for that extra mysterious look.
Olive skin, well, darker than mine at any rate which I suppose isn't all that hard really given the circumstances…
Pouty, cherry pink lips which have that sort of "kiss me or kill me" effect and longing…or is that just me?
She's about five foot six-ish, thin waist, hips go out for her thighs to go in and medium bust – not exactly flat-chested without being too Lola Ferrari-esque.
She has a lovely personality I guess but just not with me. She has no time for a stuttering, bumbling idiot such as myself and Merlin does she ever show it. She does try to be patient I suppose but after bearing at least five minutes of me trying to choke out something as simple as "Hello" she sighs, rolls her eyes, tosses back her mane of silvery-pink hair and retorts: "Hurry up Loopy, I don't have till seventh year!' and that is that. She's gone. Slipped through my fingers like…well…a slippery thing: flouncing away from me like a ray of sunshine in my darkness.
But before I go all philosophic on you all I shall leave you with a short recollection of the conversation I had with her today (yes, and I didn't stutter once. Well, that's a lie and would be extremely impossible as I don't contain the physical capacity for that to happen, what I mean to say is I didn't stutter much).
I was sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, watching as Sirius made a prat of himself with that brunette, whatsername…Lindsay…when I was suddenly aware of breath on the nape of my neck through the masses and masses of hair I have grown after my last visit to the hairdressers in the Winter holidays :metal note: Must get hair cut off, all of it, ALL OF IT:. I turned, startled to come face to face with none other than the love of my life – well, almost...
She raised a quizzical eyebrow at me before taking a seat ON MY LAP! With her arms wrapped around my neck so she could stare up at me in that entrancing way she does.
'H…h….hi…C-C-C-C-Caiti!' I spluttered at her, going redder and redder and redder and redder and redder and redder…
'Loopy: we need to talk.' She stated, breaking through my course of mumblings and mutterings impatiently.
'Ok-k-kay…anything!' Was it me, or was I getting higher and higher pitched with every time her index finger twirled my hair? It was like a volume button! Or is that a pitch button? Whatever.
'Look, you're a really nice guy and everything but you and me-' with her other hand she held up a small amount of lacy pink and white fabric to my eye level until I realised that it was a thong! Why was she giving me a thong? Oh God, she wasn't questioning my sexuality surely? My question was answered when she continued: 'It ain't gonna work. I mean, for one, pink and white isn't my kind of colour-combo and two, you're far too…saft for me – I'd be afraid to touch you without you snapping in my grip.'
What the hell was that supposed to mean? I'm not "saft" (soft if you aren't from South London – which she is).
'Erm….right….well…thanks for the…er…advice….but er…who's you know…thong is that?'
She crinkled her brow and cocked her head on one side, 'Well, yours of course. You posted it under my dormitory door last night in a package, remember?'
I looked agog as two Gog's as she spoke. Me? Post something under a door. Her door? Well that was ridiculous and impossible. I can't even talk to her let alone give her a thong!
'We even had a conversation on the whatsit…threshold. Remember?' she pouted in a sulky unloved fashion and batted her long black lashes at me, which did nothing for my nerves.
'Erm…erm, erm, erm, erm…yeah...yeah…I Remus- I mean remember…heh-heh…conversation about…yeah…'
Shut up, shut up NOW Lupin, zip it! I screamed inside but still I babbled on hopelessly until she placed a silencing index finger on my lips. 'Shutting up.' I muttered; startled at the physical contact and conscious of my insides engaging in – what felt very much like a waltz…
'It's a nice thought but…er…try harder, okay?' with that advice, she reached up to my level and leant in to me – leading me to think she was going to kiss me, which of course she didn't. Instead, she rose, tossed the thong onto the table beside me and flounced away to meet her friends.
I stared at the lacy strip beside me, contemplating what to do with it until two seventh years (Gideon and Fabian – the original pranksters, both of whom are Caiti's exes) grabbed it from my side and ran off swinging it above their heads like a victory statement.
Leaving me inhaling as many of her perfume smells as possible before realising that it wasn't such a good idea, I know her smell always…gets me going…and we all remember what happened to Sirius in the Astronomy tower in third year after a trip to the bathroom with a certain girlfriend…
Personally I have never experienced anything sexual in my life. Not even a kiss (unless you count my parents when I was very little but I'm taking it family don't count. That would just be incest…EURGH!)
Anyway, a perfect day, eh? Not. I think I'd have better chance of a decent life as a Flobberworm. I wonder what it is to be a Flobberworm…hmm…
The Diary of C J Fawcett
KISS THESE COLD COLD LIPS GOODNIGHT
Sniiiiiiff.
Ah, the good stuff…
There really is nothing better than snorting Aphrodisiac with your best friend in the comfort of a broom closet on a Friday night, especially as it is her birthday and I need to give her present to her…
She's so lovely is Lily. So pale and gorgeous. Fine cut features and bright, brighter than bright green eyes which pierce the heart of everyone she looks at.
Except the person I want her to pierce the heart of. In fact, she may as well just stab him with a quill. I don't care.
I am talking about Loony. Loopy. Loony-bin Lupin. Whatever you want to call him. It matters as much to me as…as homework. Yeah, that's how little I feel for him. Yet he still won't take the hint!
I mean, I hardly make it subtle do I? If he's in my hair, I tell him. If he's getting too heavy, I lighten the mood. If he's a bit close, I push him away. I don't mean to tease him. I suppose that has got something to do with it but come on! It's priceless watching him helplessly flounder for the words. Or am I being a bit harsh?
Lily is reaching over me for the fags, her pale forearms showing from underneath her green night camisole and her bony elbows sticking into the side of my thigh. I get a pang of what feels like temptation and no sooner than I know what I'm doing, I'm rolling her on top of me and holding her to me. She giggles and we stare each other out through the drugged misty cloud over our vision. We are both tired, you can see from the lack of…dazzle in our irises but it's that sort of tiredness where you feel as if you are the only person in the world who is standing still but the rest of the world around you is whizzing past, the pull of gravity on the earth turning us around on it's axis.
My God, I'm speaking – thinking – sense!
Lily gazes deeply into my eyes, which I can feel dilating from the mixture of drugged high and the fact that I'm so goddamn randy!
I want her. I can feel in her pelvis and the way she's moving and breathing that she wants me too.
I lean into her and our lips graze each other gently, so soft and warm. She tastes so sweet but I know that deep down she can be so sour.
She's dangerous: the kind that keeps her friends close and her enemies even closer.
But I love her for that. Does that make me bi?
I mean, I like sex with lads, the way they are so easy to tempt I think is what the attraction is there, but what I love and find so compelling about Lily is the chase: the fact that I have to work for her approval. Her friendship. Our relationship.
But still, she will never feel for me as I do her. Sure, she loves me but only as a friend. In the privacy of one another's dorms. "Our dirty little secret" she calls it in public and I suppose she's right in thinking that way. I would rather not the whole school knew. It adds to the thrill I guess, everyone not knowing the code...
I'm conscious of her arm snaking under my back between my body and the bed and her tongue twirling and dancing between my jaws and give a small groan when just as I go to roll us over so she is on her back with me on top of her, she sits up and breaks away. And I know exactly why.
Potter. That's what it is. Her lust object. The one that she fantasises about when she's using me. Yes, I know she does it but I love her for that all the same. I get what I want, she gets what she does, and everyone's a winner. Right?
But I can't help feeling rejected. We seem to be reaching a certain point and that is when reality strikes her and she pulls away from my grasp, as if I have burned her at a touch.
My insides are singing and I moan in frustration, lying on my back and stroking my hair behind my ears with my eyes shut, brow crinkled. Lips parted slightly from the shape of her tongue between them…
'I'm sorry Cait.' She tells me, placing the fag between her rose red lips and lighting up, cupping her hand around the lighter and cigarette coolly.
I sit up slowly, hugging my knees to my chest, licking her taste from my lips and staring at her back as if my eyes would burn holes in her back.
I want her.
I need her.
But I won't admit defeat.
'That's what it always is Lily: Sorry Cait but Potter this, Potter that, Potter looked at me today so my life's temporarily on hold. Yeah, I know the drill. Don't mention it.' I grumble moodily. I can't help the moody tone. Comes with the package I'm afraid. I'm a punk, what can I do? A child of the revolution as they say.
She tenses, the sticky out muscles in her back – shoulder-blades I think – tighten and she freezes, cigarette held between two fingers, poised to her lips mid-draw.
'It's not that. You know it's not just that.' She explains as if that makes all the difference – which it doesn't.
'Uh-huh.' I mumble unconvincingly and slide my bare legs off the bed, bending down to pick up my things – cigarette pack, lighter, aphrodisiac pot – and stand in the clean red carpet.
Silently I slip from the room as she is pleading me to stay, but I am gone, choking back tears in my throat and comforted only by the sound of my bare-footsteps on the landing of the Gryffindor girls dorms.
As if on a mission I slouch down the many corridors leading back to the Ravenclaw common room, ripping the Gryffindor tie Lily gave me from my neck when I hear shuffling from the adjacent darkness.
I stop dead in my tracks, mind running on over time as to what I should do next, considering if it was a teacher or not…
'Hello?'
Oh, well done Fawcett, good thinking…not.
More uncomfortable shuffles then a muffled voice answered me from the shadows.
'H-Hey C-C-Caiti…n-nice evening in the cor-corridors?' it stammers bashfully.
Oh Merlin, here we go…
'Loopy.' I sigh pleasantly, 'what an awesome…surprise…'
There are yet more scuffs and scrapings until he appears, scuttling into my wand light.
'He…he….awesome.' he pulls that geeky smile which is, though hopelessly cute and sincere, is also rather scary. It has the kind of "I'm a scary child" sort of effect which is so popular with my siblings in public nowadays and is simply delightful, though overrated…
'So…' I change the subject, shifting my weight from one leg to another so he gawps at my tanned legs in my terribly revealing black night shorts. I didn't do it solely for that purpose but it still happened anyway… 'Good patrol tonight? Caught any snoggers lurking in the broom closets?' I ask, generally curious to steal his attention back to my face. I have always wondered what being a prefect was like…getting to perv on couples…picking up tips…staying up after dark…
He blushes and stabs at the ground with his foot for a second before replying. 'No, just a B-Boggart…showed him…showed him good…'
I lean forward to catch the last bit, amazed at what I hear.
'You mean you banished a Boggart? Fully grown?'
He shrugs shyly before uncoiling slightly, getting more confident. 'Well…yeah…' he replies simply. 'It's just riddikulus and it's…well, gone…'
I gawp at him gormlessly, agog as two gogs, unable to believe that someone so gentle and seemingly pathetic could do such a thing until I realise my mouth is getting dry from lack of use.
'…Wow…' I manage to stammer before clearing my throat and straightening up. 'Well…I'd better be off to bed then. Well done on the Boggart thing.' Then when I get to his side I reach up and whisper in his ear: 'I'm impressed.' Which I know sends his completely jelloid.
'Th-thanks C-C-C-C-Caiti…he…he…yeah…' he shivers on contact but then looks around him for onlookers and stands there, staring after me as I walk away down the corridor, feeling his eyes burning into the back of my head before I turn around the corner and am free from their gaze.
'