Disclaimer: Same as installment one. Not mine, not intended to offend, so don't sue.
Author's Note on the elimination of Americanisms from her writing-After listening to far too many people rant about blatant Americanisms, I tried to do avoid using as many as possible. This does not mean I've thrown in piles and piles of British expressions, just that I added I think a grand total of one "u" and avoided the slang I hear in everyday life as much as possible, since, aside from being American, it probably wasn't everyday slang in 1976. Being as I am not British though, PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY OTHER BLATANT ERRORS I MAKE! I'm not perfect, and I'm more than willing to make adjustments.
Author's Note on the nature of this installment-In all truthfulness, this is probably the second half of chapter one, but it grew rather lengthy so I split it in two. As such, this chapter is still entirely in August. There is little excitement. No one dies, no one falls in love. Karin makes an "appearance" of sorts, or, at the very least, you meet her a bit through Lily's letter and her response. If this bores you to death, please tell me, and I'll tag on the next journal entry which promises to at the very least hint of something exciting plot-wise that isn't romantic.
August 3rd, 1976
I finally wrote Karin today. She's a sweet girl, if lacking in self-control, and my very greatest friend; I really miss her over the summer holiday. Sentiment aside, I've folded a copy of the letter I sent into my most brightly pink journal. It seemed appropriate.
Karin, my most magnanimous comrade in weekend chocolate consumption!
How's life treating you? Not too poorly, I should hope. After all, you're off enjoying yourself on the shores of the Mediterranean in Southern France and here I am, seventeen (ahem) single, and stuck in my painfully muggle home on Hell Street, Suburbia, England. Honest to God, even one of Professor Binns's infamous boring lectures on "ways in which wizards benefited economically from muggles in the earliest days of the Ministry" would almost be a welcome relief to the humdrum.
Only almost, though. At least Petunia hasn't bored herself to death yet.
Can you honestly believe our seventh year "chez Hogwarts" starts in a matter of weeks? I know I certainly can't. Lord, in less than a year, we'll be on our own, fending for ourselves. It's…that's…well, to be up front about it, I don't think most of us will be quite ready for it, least of all the boys. You know which ones in particular. Constantly bickering between the houses and pulling silly pranks, but come June, houses won't matter anymore and practical jokes could very well get the lot of them fired from every job.
Regardless of how irritating school may have been, I will miss it, and the people, a good deal when we've left.
Speaking of the horrors our school does subject us to, guess what I learned last week! Alright, first off, I made head girl, so you'll simply have to do as I say! Rather a frightening though, wouldn't you say? But, likewise when we became prefects, I do solemnly swear that I shall be perfectly fairly biased in my duties as head girl, not invent too many stories to take points from Slytherin, and never take more than five points at a time from Gryffindor, unless it's inevitable and a slight increase could reduce further deductions.
Whew! Quite a mouthful, that. How did we ever manage to think up, let alone use such a mantra?
Most unfortunately, however, my co-conspirator in Hogwarts leadership, while granted also from Gryffindor, is none other than James Potter. Can you ever imagine why Dumbledore thought it fit to bestow the responsibility of enforcing school policy and acting as a role model to students upon the master of rule-bending himself?
Yet, in all probability, we shall manage perfectly well. I must admit, school will probably be more entertaining than ever this year. Presumably, special activities must be among the first changes James has in mind, and so long as they aren't completely out of the question, and Dumbledore at least agrees, I'm more than game for a distraction from work. I'm thinking a dance or two might be nice. From what I've read, they were quite a traditional for a while but for whatever reason they fell out of favor with the staff. If that plan fails, there are always the feasts to look forward too…
Somewhere, deep in my subconscious, hidden under piles and piles of completely precious trivia I pull from my books, there must be a typical teenage girl, which merits my next series of questions:
Tell me, have you met any dashingly-handsome, sweep-you-off-your-feet, buy-you-flowers, give-you-chocolate French boys to giggle about during the school year and send admiring letters to? Is there a spare you could lend me? Everyone says that the French, when they aren't being arrogant, can really be quite romantic, and heaven only knows I could use a bit of that in my life. So, just tell Pierre, or whatever his name is, that your charmingly sweet and beautiful English friend desires his acquaintance.
Of course, knowing you, you're still all caught up thinking about Sirius Black, how dreamy! I don't see why…it's been nearly a year since you officially dated and yet, so far as I can tell, you've never exactly broken up…
But as he hasn't showed up on my doorstep begging me to go out with him, I figure you're safe and he's still just as, um, obsessed with you as ever. (I don't know what the proper term is for your relationship.)
As for me? I'm still as single as ever. No one I particularly care to fawn over either. It's just, I've dated Ravenclaws, and as much as I love books, my perfect evening out involves discussing them, not reading them in absolute silence except for the occasional ruffle as the pages turn. Hufflepuffs, or, the one Hufflepuff, Amos Diggory, I went with to Hogsmeade back in the beginning of fourth year are really sweet and thoughtful but a bit, how shall I put this, dull conversationalists. The Slytherins are a bit frightening; I'd be half afraid he'd stab me in the back when I wasn't looking if I dated one of them. As for the Gryffindors? Quite frankly, I don't see how you manage to date one of them without dating them all!
After a year of singleness, though, I think I've accustomed myself to the fact that independence is a good thing, and my personal cupid really deserves his long vacation in the Bahamas. I only wish I could join him there…
Well, we can't all be perfect. I figure that my inability to keep relationships going for very long must be the defect that counters being Head Girl this year. Not that I really believe in the theories of equality in everything, but it would make a bit of sense, don't you think?
This year, it appears we have a good deal of shopping to do before September 1st. Are you back in England by August 20th to pay a visit to Diagon Alley? I finally convinced my parents to attach our fireplace to the Floo Network on the condition that I only use it with their knowledge and consent, so this year we will be able to shop without Petunia's depressive hovering. (I sincerely doubt she'd be thrilled by the idea of travel by magic, no matter how much it would please her to torment me.)
Most unfortunately, though, Petunia the terrible insists she throw herself a birthday party this afternoon, and my parents, ever well meaning, insist I take some of the glory. It shouldn't hurt too much; none of her friends know I exist, so I ought to be able to hide in the kitchen for most of the afternoon. My parents, however, will worry if I don't make my appearance soon so the letter ends here. Give Jasmine something to eat, and send a letter along with her if you could.
Much love from the most boring place on Earth,
Lily EvansThere's nothing much else interesting to say about life. My sister's party went as well as could be expected. I spent the first hour baking chocolate chip cookies and eating them when they were warm and gooshy, then was dragged out of the room by my mother to "open presents". Petunia received a sizeable pile of knickknacks, and Lily (I disassociated from myself while in their company) opened a few hastily wrapped muggle stories from those few girls who remembered me from primary school. It was nice of them to think of me at all.
Hopefully, in only 17 days, I will for the first time since school ended for the holiday, be able to sit and gossip about Hogwarts. Talk with someone who doesn't puzzle over every aspect of muggle life sounds so pleasant right now.
August 4th, 1976
Today, I sat on my arse in my room and read while listening to every one of the Beatles albums in chronological order. My day consisted of muggle literature, muggle music, and muggle conversations over dinner. I have nothing against muggles, seeing as I was one for eleven years. It's just that I'm getting homesick for school. I miss Gryffindor house and everything that comes with it, including the occasional morning when one awakes covered in slugs or with an alternate color of hair. That's quite remarkable; if only "JamesandSirius" could have heard that.
"JamesandSirius" are one person. I could try to identify one half from the other, but that's a bit difficult. So far as I can tell, the only difference is that Sirius on-and-off fancies Karin, and James disappears when "SiriusandKarin" need their time together. When that happens, James and I, both being left without our best friends, crawl up in opposite corners of the common room to study and make the occasional rude comment on the length of time the two have been off "playing chess".
Even at school, my days often consist of sitting on my arse and reading, but at least at Hogwarts when I take to staring at a spot on the wall, I can make the spot change colour.
16 days until Diagon Alley.
August 5th, 1976
Today, I drew. It did not look like much. Originally, I thought I would draw an elm tree, but I switched halfway through without erasing anything to drawing a lake, and all I had at the end was a blob of pencil lines. I have no artistic abilities.
My mother also served custard for dinner.
15 days until Diagon Alley.
August 6th, 1976
To no one's surprise, today was dull as well. My entries for dull days are dull, because dull days have nothing interesting, so this is will be kept short.
14 days until Diagon Alley.
August 7th, 1976
Four days of nothing in a row leads me to believe that I should stop trying to keep a record of all the unremarkable minutiae of my life. There shall be no more writings about days in which nothing occurred.
13 days…
August 10th, 1976
Huzzah! Finally, a day with some excitement!
I had just finished eating my breakfast of an apple, as I wasn't incredibly hungry, when Jasmine flew in through the kitchen window. She looked quite happy, as anyone should be after spending nearly a week in Southern France relaxing. Gleeful as I was to have her back to talk to, I was even more delighted by the letter from Karin she brought.
It said nothing much unexpected. She is enjoying her time out of the country, but will return on the 16th, leaving the 20th open for shopping. Unfortunately, she claims she met no one I would be interested in sending love letters to, most likely because she really did carry around Sirius's picture with her to keep her from acting untruthfully to the wizard of her dreams, whom she protests to not be dating. Additionally, she whines that Sirius only wrote to her once, and that I ought to stop moping about my love life and make sure there is at least one ball this year. She's a silly girl, but I love her.
10 days…
A/N-Merci beaucoup for my three sparkling reviews for chapter 1 part 1! I'm looking forward to seeing what feedback I receive this time around. Constructive criticism is wonderful as well. Even if you don't like to review (and I sympathize completely because I have a fear of hitting the review button as well…) thank you for taking the time to read anyway.