Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The one and only JK Rowling does.

a/n DID YOU KNOW that today is the 18th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts? Voldy died at like, two a.m. this morning. SO cool!

Dear Journal,

I'm trying to, you know, start a journal. But that never works out. This is the seventh time I've tried to do this. Well, seven's the charm, right? Anyway, let me introduce myself. My name is James Sirius Potter, son of Harry and Ginny Potter. I'm in my second year, and I have two younger siblings: Albus Severus Potter and Lily Luna Potter. Al (Albus) will join me at Hogwarts next year, he's still ten. Lily's only eight. There's also Teddy, a sort-of cousin of mine. Dad's his godfather, so I'm his god-cousin...?

Anyway, I always catch him snogging Victoire, one of my cousins, in the most unusual places. In an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express, under the tree by the lake, in the kitchens (I was hungry, okay? I didn't mean to walk in on them full-on snogging!), you get my point. I think they've been going out since their fourth and fifth year (fourth for Victoire and fifth for Teddy). Oh! Also, today's Victoire's 15th birthday. NOTE TO SELF: say happy birthday to Victoire. Then give her that mirror that uncle George gave you for a laugh.

The mirror, that I was talking about up there, is supposed to enlarge your most prominent features. For example, on me, my head. When I look in the mirror, my head blows up. Really weird, if you ask me. For Victoire, it'll probably be her long nose. Well, it's not that long, but pretty long. Just imagine the look on her face, though.

OH NO! MY BEAUTIFUL, PERFECT NOSE! WHY, JAMES? WHY?! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

She is very vain.

Anyway, what now? I'm bored. There's nothing to write about. Everything is the same. Professor Longbottom is quiet (Mum says that it's only because he's a little afraid of us not accepting him. I mean, really? We're only second years! And you're the guy who killed a giant python with a sword, like, eighteen years ago!), Professor Mcgonagall is still strict (and alive. Dad said she was still teaching when grandpa went to school! Grandpa Potter, I mean.), Professor Hagrid is still super nice and ace (and really big. P.S. he still doesn't know that Blast-Ended Skrewts are dangerous. I mean, they can burn you into smithereens!), Professor Flitwick is still really tiny (half-goblin, I heard), Professor Weasly aka Auntie Lina (nee Angelina Johnson) is still... well... Auntie Lina, and so on. Oh, I forgot something again. Today's Fred's birthday! He's turning 16 today. NOTE TO SELF: say happy birthday to your good old mate/cousin, Fred. Give him... oh I don't know! Something. A stuffed cow. He's vegetarian, and doesn't like meat. Hasn't since he was eight.

Fred's Auntie Lina and Uncle George's son. His full name is Fred Weasly II, and funny thing... he was born two years and one day after his uncle, Fed Weasly the first, died. Possibly two years and a few hours... Anyway, he has a little sister, too. Her name's Roxanne. She's still only about five years old, an looks a lot like Auntie Lina. Talkative, too. Oh, enough with family. Let's talk about... other stuff. I don't know what, but still. Other stuff...

Come on, I've got to fill this page. Have to. It's my goal. I will, I know, I will... I'm desperate. Oh! I've got an idea! Well, you see, everyone thinks that I'm just all quidditch and pranks, and stuff. But I'm much more. I like writing poetry. It's fun! If you don't believe me, try it out yourself. It's ... calming. Very calming. Much calming. Caaaaaalming.

It's the year of 2016,

And the anniversary of a battle,

Not to mention the birthday of one who likes to preen,

And someone who doesn't like cattle.

A dark lord was vanquished eighteen years ago,

My father killed him,

And he died, you know,

And times were no longer grim.

So here I am,

The son of the hero.

Wondering, what the hell is a mammogram,

And every time I ask what it is, the answer I get is zero.

But seriously, what is a mammogram?

Yeah, what is a mammogram?