-1INSIDE THE MIND OF CRAZY
SUMMARY: Lily Evans, to be frank, is a little insane. Her mind is filled with grilled cheese, socks, and Ryan Rochester. WARNING: Includes sticky head girls, sock stealers, and disturbing thoughts. DIARY FORMAT
This story is a basic…
One part humor - Continue to read. You will see I am not lying. I have been blessed with a gift, and it would be selfish of me to kept it to myself.
One part drama - hopefully better than Laguna Beach - the first and second season, not the crappy third, because those wore, of course, THE BEST.
One part fluff - Because or else I will have so many random things in my head, and I will blow. And no one likes reading a fan fiction in which the authors head has actually BLOWN UP. Well, I don't know actually. Maybe they doNo one every appreciates an artist until they die. And it helps if they die graphically, too. Maybe I'll pull a Josh Swensen.
One part pure "stop eating the paste!" type of actions - Aw, come on. Who doesn't love a kid who eats paste? That's what I'd like to know. We've all been tempted by that sweet scent of Elmer's Glue. If you weren't suppose to eat it, they simply would not make it smell so delicious.
AND. . . GO!
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Sunday, September 23rd
Heads Common Room
I have been forced to write in a diary, and I am soaking wet. Oh, yes.
Not just wet. I'M ALSO STICKY. And, once again, I know who to thank.
JAMES FRICKEN POTTER.
("YES, DENISE, I DO NEED TO WRITE THIS BIG!")
Do you want to know why? Huh? HERE'S WHY!
---
BEGIN
TRAUMATIC FLASHBACK
"What," I asked, "are you doing?"
The two girls looked at me, a complete look of innocence on their faces. Well, they were first years. They had not yet been corrupted.
One of the girls, a blonde that didn't reach my elbow, went, "We're the lookout," only to be whacked in the arm by her raven haired friend.
"Jeez, Cami! Cool it!" The blond said, rubbing her arm. I knew how she felt. Being only five three I am often bullied by my friends. They simply do not realize how strong they are, you know, compared to little old me.
But the dark haired girl, who was significantly taller, just gave her a look.
"The lookout," I demanded, "for who?" Even though, you know, I had a pretty good idea who the who actually was.
Because who else would make two eleven year old girls stand in an empty corridor? Who?
They weren't even a good lookout. They had been giggling, running down the hallways, saying, "Nope!" every time it was, indeed, empty.
They really must have been desperate.
"She was just kidding," The dark haired one, Cami, shrugged. "She's not real funny, see."
The blondes eyes widened, "She's what?"
"Shut it, Em."
I decided to interfere. Em looked like she wanted to cry. She is what we call a follower, and it was obvious that Cami was a leader.
"Hey, now!" Get ready for some Head Girl action. "I know someone is in there. Is it the Marauders?"
Cami scrunched her nose. "God, who are you, anyway?" She looked me up and down, a clear indication that she was checking me out. Or, you know, sizing me up. "What's your name?"
I scoffed. Really. "I'm the head girl. Who are you?"
She didn't look impressed at my title. I don't see why not. I am a power figure. A leader. I make this school a better place.
"Camille Hut," She said, not without pride. She looked at Em, and began to grin. "That's Emiline Stils. But, hey. They didn't say you couldn't go in there. I mean, after all, you're head girl."
So, of course, I went in there.
Only to have like five gallons of sticky green like goop fall on my head.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
---
END TRAUMATIC FLASHBACK
This is not funny. The laughing was, of course, coming from Sirius Black. That quickly stopped, however, when I took out my wand and began firing at him (although, thanks to the goop, I couldn't really see, and I ended up hitting everything but).
And, my god, it smells.
Like, I don't know, goop. Like an overdose due to lemon sniffing.
Because it happens. People go around sniffing lemons, and then they OVERDOSE.
I don't see why you don't believe me, Diary. I know you don't.
ANYWAY.
Right after my rage of wand firing, having ended when Potter knocked me down (another thing that he will never be forgiven for, along with the fact that I think he's been stealing my socks), Professor McGonnagall came in and gave me detention. FOR NO REASON. I mean, I didn't even hit anyone. So then I had to spend like two hours writing "I will not aim my wand at a fellow pupil again", which I can't actually promise. But then, when she was about to let me go, P. McGonnagall was all, "Miss Evans, I just can't see this kind of behavior coming from you. Miss Reynolds, maybe, but not you. Is everything okay?"
Which I, of coarse, said, "Yeah, everything is fine."
But, guess what? SHE DIDN'T BELIEVE ME. She just looked at me all funny, and got this diary out of her drawer, and told me to write in it. Which is pretty lame, if you ask me. But I guess you're not, so never mind.
If writing in this will make me less insane, than neat. I'll try it out.
Oh, Potter is back from his detention. He's talking to me, but I'm not listening, see? I'm ignoring him.
Now his face is getting all red, and not in the embarrassed way, but the mad way. Woah, hands thrown over his head, and now he went into his room like a BIG BABY.
I guess I'll write more later.
Monday, September 24th
The Great Hall - Breakfast
I just read last nights entry, I don't know why, and I realize how confused you must be, Diary.
See, James Potter is the spawn of Satan. I'm pretty sure.
Because you would only do what Potter does if you were, in fact, the spawn of Satan.
James Potter likes to hex innocent students.
James Potter enjoys mocking me.
James Potter….IS A BAD MAN.
He also belongs to a pack of wild beasts. Well, except for Remus. He got sucked into this thing, just because he's their roommate. I mean, how could he say no? They are intimidating people. Not to me, but to some.
Denise just looked at what I'm writing (which, I should tell her, is rude. But I won't, because she might pinch me. SHE'S DONE IT BEFORE!), and rolled her eyes.
Ah, Denise. Denise Reynolds.
What should we say about her?
Well, she's blonde (don't hold that against her though. She's actually pretty darn smart). She has Green eyes, like me. Only they're darker. And, OH YEAH, she's like 5'10, a whole seven inches taller than me.
I met here when I was a wee first year, and I had no one to sit by on the train. She took me in. Raised me, as if I was her own. She is my kin. My family. She--OW!
She won't let me write about her anymore. But, you know what, I'll just wait till you aren't looking!
WHAT WILL YOU DO THEN, HUH?
'STOP PINCHING ME YOU FREAK!"
Still Monday, September 24th
History of Magic
I don't see what Potter is so mad about. He's certainly ignored me more than I've ignored him.
And mine was completely acceptable. I mean, he just dumped five gallons of goop on me. I mean, I still smell like lemons.
So, him being mad at me? It's not fair.
I do not like to have someone made at me. Even if it is Potter.
"Are you sure," Denise just asked, "That you're not really bothered by this because it's James that's mad at you, not just someone?"
"Denise," I started all gently, "Have you been putting crack in your cereal again?"
She let out an oh-aren't-you-funny laugh, but smiled like she was right.
I rolled my eyes. "You must be on crack," I whispered, because after all, this is class, "to think that. And stop reading my diary."
I swear, I don't know where she get's these ideas.
It must be the girls in the Gryffindor common room. They give her all these messed up ideas now, and because I no longer sleep in the dormitory, I can not shield her from their evil ways.
Whatever.
I just looked over at Potter, and he was leaning back in his chair looking at me. Ah. So he can't be mad at me.
He's looking at me. Looking at me is one of his favorite hobbies. I don't know why. I'm not much to look at, and it kinda irks me.
I mean, looking at Denise, sure. She's hot.
I don't know. The way he's looking at me, kinda glaring. I highly doubt that he's picturing me naked.
OH MY GOD.
I DID NOT WRITE THAT!
Even more Monday, September 24th
The Great Hall - Lunch
I don't even know why I come to lunch, here.
They never have grilled cheese. I have to go all the way down to the kitchen to get that, and I hate bugging the elves.
Even if they don't seem to be bothered, I know they are.
Tuesday, September 25th
The Great Hall - Breakfast
My god.
He is still mad at me.
Little Baby.
Someone is clearly PMSing. And it is not me.
Well, thank god it's not Denise either. She nearly took off my head last week when she had it.
Tuesday, September 25th
The Great Hall - Dinner
Okay, so even though I did nothing wrong, I'm going to apologize.
I seriously can not have him mad at me for something so stupid.
We have to patrol tonight, and there's no way he can get out of it like he did last night, when he had Remus Lupin cover for him.
I made sure. I told Lupin that if he, or anyone else switches with Potter, that I will kick him (Remus) in the "goodies".
I know how much he values his goodies. He's a man, is he not?
Tuesday, September 25th
Patrolling Some Corridor on the Fourth Floor
I can not believe this.
He has evaded every single one of my moves.
When we first left the Heads Common room I said, "It's pretty tonight," you know referring to the LAKE which is OUTSIDE in the light of the MOON.
And all he said was, "It's a hallway. And it's dark. You can't see anything."
Which is seriously rude of him.
I know it's a hallway. I was not talking about the hallway.
And then when I said, "Cool statue," referring to an ugly witch statue on my left, which is, you know, not cool, but whatever.
All he did was raise one eyebrow, which I still can't do despite hours of practicing.
I seriously can not believe this.
I really want to make up with him, and go back to something relatively normal, and all he is doing is evading me.
WHATEVER.
Tuesday, September 25th
Heads Common Room
All right.
We're now…
It's just so weird
It's hard to write.
We are, in fact….friends.
I don't know how this happened.
One minute we were throwing Ryan Rochester and whoever his snogging partner was, and the next we're friends.
I guess I blame myself.
I was always kinda pushy, I never really think things through when I do them. I mean, I couldn't just leave things the way the are.
This is how it happened.
We take away 30 points from Hufflepuff, 15 for Ryan and 15 for snog partner, and then continue walking.
James is still all moody, and I'm still all what the heck when I turn to him and say, "James, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. It was rude. And I value ….. Whatever this is ….. too much to keep fighting with you. Forgive me?"
And he's just looking at me like "GOD, YOU ARE INSANE WOMAN" when he hugs me.
"Ah, oh..uhm, okay, yeah." And I awkwardly pat his back, aware that he is a very good hugger. I don't know what it is. Some people are just very good huggers. It's a gift, I guess.
He pulls back, his face red. Then I'm surprised, because he never blushes. Ever.
"Uh, yeah." James scratches the back of his ear and looking real weird. The he says, "So, you want to be friends?"
Now I was surprised.
Um, friends? With you? No.
No, Potter, I don't want to be friends with you.
I want you to leave me alone. I want you to look at other girls in class, and not be upset with me for stupid reason like ignoring you. I want a James Potter free life. And you can not be in that, seeing as you are James Potter.
But what I said was, "Oh, Sure."
I Shouldn't be allowed to live.
I do not want to be friends with James Potter.
This is wrong. Sick and wrong.
Just two days ago, he was dumping goop on my head, and now we're Nancy and Kelly, BEST FRIENDS FOREVER.
Umph.