Disclaimer: While loosely based on The Princess Diaries, I don't own anything.
Author's Note: I'm not sure how much time I'll have to spend on this story. I'll try, but I have a 14 month old daughter and am 5 months pregnant with another baby (my husband and I like to stay on the ball) so I can really only write when she's down for her afternoon nap.
August 2nd -
Sometimes, it seems like all I ever do is lie. My mum thinks I'm repressing my feelings about this. So, I say to her, "No, Mum, I think this is really great. As long as you and dad are happy, I'm happy."
Lie, lie, lie, lie.
And of course, mum knows I'm lying to her. So she hands me this book and tells me to write my feelings down in it since I can't share them with her and dad. As if! They want me to write down my feelings? All right, I'll write them down.
I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY'RE DOING THIS TO ME!!!!!!!!
Like I'm not already the biggest freak at Hogwarts. It's bad enough that I'm a Potter (as in Harry Potter; as in THE Harry Potter; as in blah, blah, freakin' blah) I'm also a 4'10, flat-chested, fourth year. How much more of a freak can you get? When people at school find out about this, I'm dead. And of course, they'll find out. Probably even before school starts back, with James and his big mouth. What I don't get is how, out of like, two million wizards in Europe, Professor McGonagall had to ask my dad to teach DADA. She couldn't get some guy I don't know. Some guy she met at the Leaky Cauldron to do it, no. She had to ask my dad. And he had to accept and ruin my life.
Thanks dad. Thanks a pant load.