A/N: Thanks to all for reading!

Monday, 20 September

Weight: 136 lb. (better!)
Calories: approx. 2,145
Drinks: 0 (excellent)
Cigarettes: 12
Hours studying: 3 (after classes)

8 p.m.

Ugh. So exhausted.

James was royally pissed off all of yesterday, so I had to work extra hard to not be a total fuckwit, clean up my act, you know. I think, after practice, he was too exhausted to care anymore though and forgave me for horrible blunders on Saturday.

Thank Merlin. It's hard without one of your best mates.

Although, now that I think about it, aside from Quidditch, I haven't spent a whole lot of time with James and the others so far this year. Maybe I'm just trying to focus on NEWTs. But honestly, I think it has a lot to do with stupid James insisting I help him with Lily Evans. I've spent just as much time around her as I have around them, and it's starting to get weird.

I mean, I never realized how ungirly I am until I spend five minutes with Lily and Mary. They are definitely what you would call feminine. Even Emmy Vance and Hestia Jones are rather feminine, albeit less blatantly so. Think am starting to develop complex.

Today has been a huge mess of trying to fit in study, along with Charms and double Potions.

Not to mention Chris Stone. I mean, I am getting really cheesed off about this. He will not stop pestering me about talking to Harper. And quite frankly, after my last conversation with Harper, I'm not too keen on the idea. Besides, you'd think he could grow some goolies and ask her to Hogsmeade his bloody self instead of trying to make me a go-between. Especially since she thinks I'm a bloody lesbian.

Chris asked me if I had spoken to Harper at lunch, and I had quietly snarled back, "No, I haven't. Now will you quit asking me about it?"

Have decided both men and women are utterly hopeless. Though the blokes make way more sense than girls like Lily Evans do. What's so wrong with James anyway? I mean, he's certainly conceited half the time, but it can kind of be endearing.

However, I am quite content focusing on my studies (and of course Quidditch!) this year. It means I hardly have time to even consider the ins and outs of Hogwartsian drama and social standing.

Not to mention, focusing on my studies means I can't focus on Chris shagging Harper, which is probably the only logical conclusion to their (future) torrid love affair. Gross.

Back to studying now.

Tuesday, 21 September

Weight: 136 lb.
Calories: approx. 1,876
Drinks: 1 (but just a Butterbeer, so barely counts)
Cigarettes: 14
Hours studying: 1

9 p.m.

Taking a break from studying for Ancient Runes. No surprise, we had another quiz in there today, and I'm pretty sure I failed it. Professor Samara really loves giving us quizzes. I don't know why! She's making it difficult to stay on top of my other classes and Quidditch too. Which (no surprise) Nazi captain that he is, James has us training on the pitch at least five times a week. He really wants to win this year (unlike any other year?).

Tonight is my lucky night of studying, so I really have to focus. I shouldn't be writing in here, especially not in the middle of the common room.

9:15 p.m.

Am total fuckwit.

Sirius, Chris, and Argyle came over to ask me questions about Arithmancy because Sirius and Chris were having a disagreement on the subject. Don't know why they were even discussing as neither of them is taking the course (Argyle is). Somehow, they had gotten onto the subject of Bridget Wenlock, and they needed someone who was actually taking the course to sort them out.

Well, the point is, Argyle (who appeared to only be there because he was dragged there against his will) spied this very journal as I was putting it away and brought the others' attention to it. "Oi," he said, telling them to shut up, "is that a diary, Montclair?"

Luckily, I am fantastic at keeping a straight face.

"No, of course not," I scoffed. "I just found it. It's my old sleep journal from fourth year Divination."

Argyle accepted it, but Sirius looked thoroughly unconvinced. Possibly because we had Divination together and my sleep journal was not a simple leather-bound book, but rather a brilliant shade of turquoise as I took an extra that Mo had lying around. Anyway, Sirius didn't say anything though.

So, somehow (no idea how) I managed to salvage that situation. Must be more careful in the future, now that the blokes are onto me.

Wednesday, 22 September

Weight: 135 lb.
Calories: approx. 1,990
Drinks: 0
Cigarettes: 17 (count goes up the longer I go without alcohol)
Hours studying: 1/2 (would have been more if Chris weren't a knobhead)

11:35 p.m.

Am very frustrated.

Was starting completely reasonable study time after dinner when he waltzed over to talk to me about his bloody beautiful Mandela Harper once again. Ridiculous! He gushed on and on about her - as much as any bloke can really gush (well, discounting James about Evans or Sirius about his latest crush).

I am long past tired of hearing him talk about her. Mo says it's because I'm arse over tits, but I don't know if I would classify it as that deep of an affection. Honestly, the more he talks about her, the more frustrated I become with him in general. Not sure I'd really call it jealousy half the time. I'm sure I get just as frustrated when Sirius talks about his latest bird (though that's because it's so bloody often).

Can barely focus now.

After twenty minutes of him rambling about her, I finally turned to Chris with an angry look and said, "If you like her so bloody much, just tell her so. I'm sure she'd be far more interested in this than I am."

He was surprised, but almost immediately brushed it off and acted as if that was the advice he had wanted all along. "Tell her?" he said. "You're brilliant, Zig! I'll talk to her tomorrow!" And he ran off.

Okay, that part might make me a little jealous. That's seriously all it took to get him to ask her out. Part of me wishes I'd had the nerve to tell him off sooner. But part of me is incredibly frustrated that I'll be alone for the first Hogsmeade trip. Well, in a manner of speaking. Surely not all of the blokes will have dates, least of all James.

Bless James and his inability to pick out a reasonable girl.

Friday, 24 September

Weight: 132 lb. (surprising)
Calories: approx. 3,250 (reasonable, considering)
Drinks: 3 (fantastic)
Cigarettes: oh, thousands
Hours studying: 0 (dreadful)
Makeovers: 1/2
Amazing sisters: 1 (sometimes)

10 a.m.

Chris said he was going to take my advice and talk to Harper today. Best of luck to him, I guess.

11:45 p.m.

Chris Stone does NOT handle rejection well.

After his disappointing chat with his glorious Mandela Harper in the Great Hall, he stormed back to our group at the Gryffindor table, looking to kill. James, Cliff, and I tried to placate him, but he was having none of it.

In response to my timid "Sorry, mate," he glared at me and nearly snarled, "Gods, it's not like you're even a real girl," before leaving the Hall in an enraged strop.

I was hurt to say the least.

Most of the blokes tried to act like it didn't happen right in front of their eyes. I'm sure that was difficult for them. (James had a particularly plotting look on his face.)

An hour later, for the first time in my life, I was actually having a conversation about a boy. Worse than that, with Mo.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted for the first time aloud EVER.

My sister Imogene knows more about the opposite sex than anyone I know. At least, as far as sexuality goes. I know these blokes better than any girl, but when it comes to discussing girls or knobs or snogging, I'm at a complete loss.

Which is why I'm at a complete loss now. I've never had this problem. Before, I was just one of the blokes. Nothing to be concerned about because we played Quidditch and laughed and pulled pranks, but certain conversations have become increasingly uncomfortable. Mostly ones that involve Chris Stone talking about girls. Because, somehow in the mess that is my life, I managed to sort of fancy the knobhead.

For the record, I don't think Mo had any idea how to console me, so she did what she knew. She invited herself into Gryffindor tower, along with all her hair and makeup products, and insisted on giving me a makeover. In reality, she just painted my nails and gave me a little lip rouge. Still, the closest thing I've ever had to a hen party. You know, one that didn't end in Mary and Lily fighting over whether Mary should be shagging her professor.

"Why're you so upset?" Mo asked, trying to broach the subject calmly and coolly.

When I fully explained the situation, she just murmured a few words, waiting for me to continue, so I did.

"It's just," I said, "he was the one that approached me, that insisted that I help him even though I told him I would bugger it up. Which, by the way, is exactly what happened. Then he gets all mad at me about it, and it's just infuriating!"

Mo sighed. "You didn't bugger it up," she said, pausing in the middle of applying the second coat of polish. "You couldn't force Mandela to like him. She wasn't remotely interested in him, so she said no - albeit quite vehemently and in front of the whole school. That's in no way your fault, Zig."

I snorted. "Yeah, well good luck telling Chris that."

"Well, Chris Stone is a complete and utter moron if he doesn't realize how beautiful you are," she said, reaching her hand out to tug at my long ponytail. "You'd be a bit more striking if we let your hair down though, don't you think?" Not waiting for an answer, she pulled out the tie and smiled at the results.

"I much prefer it up," I insisted, but she ignored me.

"No, you look great like this. Although preferably after a shower, as you've got a distinct kink from the scrunchy." She quickly returned to polishing my toenails and carried on with the conversation as if the hair thing hadn't just happened. "Besides, he's got terrible taste in women. Mandela's fine, but I don't know how he thinks it would be easy what with Sirius and Jasmine dating last year. Jasmine would probably kill all of you lot with her stink eye if she could. And even if Mandela had been interested (very big if there), she wouldn't do anything because she knows how Jasmine feels about you lot, and it isn't good. Mandy's very loyal to her. Even though she's a raging bitch."

I couldn't help but laugh. Mo seemed to sum up the situation exceedingly well. And Jasmine Snider has been and probably always will be a raging bitch. Thank you, Mo, for saying so. It's not just me now.

"And where does he get off trying to make you feel like a fuckwit for his bad luck?" she continued easily. "He had no right to say that!"

But that's the part where I hesitate.

"The thing is," I said, "he's kind of right there. I mean, I wouldn't know how to be a girl if I had a handbook. Let alone give advice on other girls. I just, I have no idea where to begin. Despite Mum's efforts, I've never really had much interaction with other girls or education on the female sex. I'm at a complete loss, Mo."

She looked up at me and smirked. "Do you want some help with that?"

I have to say, I was scared. Mo is scary. Like, really scary.

"Um, what d'you have in mind?"

Her grin was evil now. "Do you want Chris Stone to realize you're a girl? A 'real' girl?"

"I guess."

"Okay, it's settled then."

"Wait, nothing's settled! What're you on about?"

"Well," Mo said, "I'll help you show him. I am fantastic at makeovers. I mean, this is nothing - barely even a start. There's so much more. And of course, you'd need a boyfriend to convince him. Well, at least it would help. At the very least, a bloke truly interested in you."

I laughed. "And where are we going to find one of those?"

"I already have an idea."

Honestly, I have no clue how I got myself involved in this. Or where Mo is going to take this. I'm scared for my life. Well, maybe not my life. But seriously, this could only go horribly wrong in a million ways. A makeover? A boyfriend? Where would I find such a boy? And how could I possibly convince him to date me? Especially exclusively. I get the feeling that Mo is getting us both in over our heads.

Sunday, 26 September

Weight: 133 lb. (stress)
Calories: approx. 2,010
Drinks: 1 (good)
Cigarettes: 29 (wretched)
Hours studying: 5 (making up for rest of weekend)
Pseudo-boyfriends: 0 (thank Merlin)

2 p.m.

Imogene is completely ridiculous. I say Imogene because what she intends to do requires me to disassociate myself from her completely.

You know how she said she thought I should get a boyfriend? So that Chris would realize I'm a girl and worthy of his attention? Yes, well, she has finally told me who she thinks it should be.

Take one wild guess.

And then, take another. Because it is not going to be anyone you suspect.

…

She wants me to pseudo-date Remus.

As in, Remus Lupin. The most honest and trustworthy of my friends. And one of James's best mates (which means that idea'll go over really well). There is no possible way this could work. And gods, it would be so weird! Which is exactly what I told her and I vehemently said no.

You know what she said?

"But, Zig, it's perfect!" And then she grinned her wicked, evil grin. "You know he's reliable and willing to keep a secret. Merlin knows, he's probably got loads of them, especially being mates with James and Sirius. Besides, he would be the perfect attentive boyfriend, completely understanding of your temperament, encouraging your hopes and dreams, and gods, I bet he's a bloody good shag! Really, I wouldn't mind a go at him after you're done."

I don't think I've ever spoken this often or this much to my sister since before I started Hogwarts (aside from holiday). And that was because I didn't have much of a choice.

She drives me to drink. And since I have classes in the morning, to smoke.

2:15 p.m.

I mean, I couldn't ask him to do that for me, could I? No, it's just crazy.

2:17 p.m.

Also, seriously, what would it even achieve? I doubt Remus would be at all receptive to the idea, especially since Imogene pressed that it must remain a secret from everyone but the bloke in question. Which means James, Sirius, and all the others would think that we're actually a couple. And that would be ridiculously weird, not to mention completely dangerous for Remus.

2:18 p.m.

And let me state this very clearly. I do not think I will ever shag Remus Lupin.

9 p.m.

I spent the rest of the day studying in the library to try to get my mind off of it. It didn't work.

Luckily, it wasn't so bad that I was totally unable to focus on my studies though. Still, now that I'm back in my dorm, I can't help focusing on it once more.

From Mo's perspective, I can see the benefits, but she's not taking my thoughts into consideration on it. That's what I have to do. I mean, is this really what I want? Do I want to put up a fake front so that Chris will notice me? Giving myself a fake face with a makeover and getting myself a fake boyfriend to promote jealousy - that would only inspire fake feelings.

I don't want to create a brand new identity for everyone to realize I'm a girl. A heterosexual girl. I just want to be accepted for who I am. And that means that I am a woman, but also a Quidditch player and a friend.

If I put up this facade of being girly, will they even be able to be friends with me?

I mean, that's a really big change. And I know these blokes. They don't look at girls as friends. They look at them as sex objects, potential girlfriends, or just someone to ogle when they think the girls aren't looking (newsflash, the girls are definitely looking). I would become completely alien. And I don't think I could handle not being their friend. That's far more important than whether Chris Stone's knob navigates in my direction.

Will explain this to Mo later. I don't really think she'll get it though.

NEXT TIME:

OH MY FUCKING GODRIC'S GHOST! Seriously, all of my undergarments are gone. I mean, completely gone. I have no clean knickers.

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Anatui