Dear Diary,
No one liked me. I had no idea why. Actually, no. That's a lie. Here's why no one liked me. Here's a little treat from my diary in 1971 (my First Year, oh how I messed it all up).
I didn't mean to trip James Potter. I just happened to turn my leg to get out of my seat at the same time he was running past. It was an accident, really. My fellow First Year stumbled and fell. I stood up, apologies on the tip of my tongue. But all I could do was laugh. And, Merlin, did I laugh! In between laughs, I managed to choke out an apology, both for tripping him and being a sadist.
He didn't accept it. Instead, he punched me.
I put my right foot back so as not to fall. My nose was gushing blood. It hurt. A lot. I glared.
"That was an accident," I snarled, blocking my nose with a tissue from my pocket.
"You laughed! It may as well have been on purpose!" he yelled, before running off.
Yes, that was what you think. He tripped, I laughed, he punched, I snarled, and since then, he and everyone else have taunted me forever. You know how the world is made up of food chains? Well, Potter and his fellow Marauders (Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew) are right at the very tip-top of the chain. Then there's Lily Evans (bitch in a uniform, hiding behind a bright-red-lipped smile and a fake hard-to-get attitude) and her posse (brainless popular girls, even the Ravenclaws in there are pathetic...). After them, it's Regulus Black and his lot, then comes the rest of the Quidditch players not yet named. All of the club members (Dueling, Fan, Charms, Chess, Gobstones) are next, all in that order (yes, the Marauders and Lily Evan's lot have fan clubs, so does Regulus' group, though the latter is considerably smaller). The nerds are next, of course, mostly from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Then, it's Severus Snape, the insufferable greasy-haired git of Slytherin house. Finally, there's me, Ravenclaw's Failure.
I had no friends for years until Remus Lupin came up to me-alone-in the library and apologized for all he had said and done. He even had a list with everything he had done. After weeks of him trying, I accepted, and we began something akin to friends-the operative word being akin, of course.
No one knew, of course. He wanted to keep it a secret. He hated everything that soiled his reputation of being a good little boy. I should have known then. We sat next to each other in Transfiguration due to assigned seating (thanks ever so much, McGonagall). At the end of class, he would take his time with his books before slipping a note into my bag with a time and place for us to meet.
And so, dear readers, we enter in on my Sixth Year, in which I made the biggest decision of my life so far, but that was not for a while. You see, Remus had slipped me a note telling me to meet in the library at lunch. For other students, meeting in the library meant meeting at the front, where it was lighter, more open, not the dark and dusty corner that was my haven. No one liked to go there. No one knew I went there, no one but Remus.
A few months after we first began this little meetings, I went to see him there, a plan already forming in my head. It was a plan that, when carried out, would show me exactly how he felt about me. I didn't bother unpacking my books out of my bag. Instead, I kept my bag slung over my shoulder, leaning against the table, waiting for his arrival.
I saw his shadow before I saw him. He was walking at the same angle he walked at everyday, and he walked at such an angle that I could see his expression change. He rounded the corner, smiling. I mentally replaced it with a frown...yes, that was close to how he would look. A little more resigned...and yes, that was it. I strode over to him purposely and kissed him.
My eyes did not close. I watched his. The kiss lasted not even a second before I took a step back. The look on his face was one of utter revulsion.
"The look on your face says it all," I said softly. "It's funny how far someone will go to find out the truth. The next note you give me will be burnt and shoved down where the sun doesn't shine, the next look will end in a broken nose of your part, and if you ever come here again, I promise you, it will not be pleasant. Am I making myself clear, Lupin?"
He glared before turning and leaving. I laughed quietly before sitting down and unpacking my books. Boys, I had learnt from silent observing, could not hide how they felt about a person when said person gave them a kiss.
For the next two weeks, Lupin (no longer Remus, are you surprised?) avoided me like the plague-and I, him. He got a girlfriend. He snogged her in the empty classroom that he knew I sometimes studied in.
Jerk.
When I walked in, I laughed that same quiet laugh from the library before setting my things up a mere desk away and shaking my head to show him that I found the whole thing amusing. He then snogged her on my table in the dark, dusty corner that I had claimed for myself. The Bat Bogey Hex has a really interesting effect on girls, and she ran out, screaming. Before Lupin could get away, I turned his skin purple and gave him a bright pink dress and heels. His hair grew longer, into ringlets. I'm not quite sure how, but he didn't notice until he was in the common room-at least, that's what the rumours say.
And the other rumours? Well, they're even more entertaining. And they're not even rumours. They're true.
Sirius Black and Liane Wilde were caught snogging in the library.
Liane's place on the food chain is now hovering somewhere between the Marauder's and Lily Evans' posse. Liane and I are good friends-as we should be. I find it quite hard to look in the mirror when you dislike yourself.
Love, Liane.
I'm working on the beginning of a sequel for this - a chapter fic - and I need your help. Leave a review with suggestions and I'll have the first chapter up soon.