Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns everything but the journal idea. –teardrop-

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Chapter Seven: Sweet Sixteen and Been Kissed

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Number 28:

It seems that Potter's new life goal is to embarrass me in front of everybody in Britain. He does it at school, and he even managed to embarrass me in my own home without actually being there!

Maybe he thinks that if he can embarrass me enough, I'll just give up and go out with him to keep him from doing all the stuff he does… Unfortunately for him, I'm not swaued by that strategy. I've said it before and I'll say again: when I go out with someone it will be because I care about the person in question.

Every year my parents escort me to the Hogwarts Express to see me off safely. Petunia stays at home, and that's just fine and dandy with me. Normally, the whole routine is extremely uneventful and rather boring. My dad loads my trunk into the luggage compartment while joking that I brought my entire room with me. Then, I give each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and I board the express. End of story.

Unfortunately for me, the story did not end there this year. Just as I was giving my mum her hug, I heard his voice. "Oy! Evans!"

I cringed like I have never cringed before. It's bad enough having to come across Potter alone or with friends, but when you meet up with him in the company of your parents of all people, well… it's a nightmare.

My mum is completely taken with James Potter. I kid you not. She thinks that he's "a nice young man with excellent manners." If only she knew that her nice young man is my stalker.

That complete and utter git told my mum that it was such a pleasure to meet her and that he could see where Lily got her good looks from. I nearly threw up.

Potter shook hands with my dad and said he was very pleased to meet him, and that it was so nice to finally meet him. Liar. Since when has Potter wanted to meet my parents?

My dad seemed slightly wary of Potter. I guess he remembered the Easter letter. Good for him. Watching out for his youngest daughter like he should be, instead of trying to wrangle her into dating undesirable miscreants.

When it was time to board the train, Potter offered me his hand to help me up, and when I smacked his hand instead of taking it, my mum practically had a heart attack.

"Lily Christine Evans! How dare you be so rude! James is simply trying to be gentleman; the least you can do is try to be a lady!"

Blah, blah, blah.

I took his hand, but the first thing I did once I was on the train was go to the lavatory and washed my hands quite thoroughly. (Apparently, I'm reverting to my eleven year old self who though boys had germs.)

Number 29:

All Easter, I didn't dream one single dream about Potter. It was heaven. Pure heaven. I thought that maybe, just maybe, Potter had given up on the dream thing.

I couldn't have been more wrong if I tried. Last night, I dreamed about what happened at the train station with Potter and my parents. How typical of him to make me relive my most embarrassing moment ever.

The strange thing was, it was the same scene and yet different. I was seeing the whole episode from an outsider's point of view. James seemed…nice, and I seemed, well, rude. It was really one of the strangest things I've seen in my life. It almost makes me feel bad to think about it, but then I remember all of the mean and sneaky things Potter does to me, and any guilt I have instantly dissolves.

However, the dream didn't end there. Potter and I boarded the train and this time, I didn't go to wash my hands. I went to sit down with my friends in their compartment and Potter came with me like we did this sort of thing everyday. (A scary thought that). We both sat down with Hestia, Alice, and Emmeline and had a normal conversation. I can't remember what we said but it seemed like second nature.

He's got me so messed up with this dream thing.

Number 30:

This makes thirty times that Potter has asked me out this year alone. Can you say desperate? Seriously, now. I'm not that pretty and there are loads of girls just begging to hang off James Potter's arm. Why can't he just pick one of them and make everyone's life a whole a lot easier?

Today before Arithmancy, Potter came up to my desk and sat down in the seat in front of mine, just to spite me. He then started talking to me to like we were friends or something.

Potter: "I didn't know that your middle name was Christine."

Me: "There's a lot you don't know about me Potter."

Potter: "It's a very pretty name. Lily Christine Potter - I mean, Evans."

Me: "Potter?"

Potter: "Yes?"

Me: "Bugger off."

I picked up my stuff to move, but as I did, I noticed that while Potter was talking to me, the rest of the class had come in, and there weren't any more seats left.

I turned back around and accused him of making sure that I couldn't find a different seat. My voice had been getting louder with each sentence and by the last one, I was practically shouting. Everyone in the classroom, including the professor, looked at me and Potter with very amused expressions.

I nearly died of huniliation then and there.

Potter smiled cheekily and waved to everyone, but I shrank down in my seat as the professor asked if we were done, and if we were, could he kindly begin class?

I nearly died all over again.

Number 31:

Somebody is going to get it. Somebody told Potter that my birthday was today. Somebody told him what I wanted for my birthday. Somebody did his dirty work for him.

Again.

This morning when I was getting ready, in everything I opened, be it my bedside table or wardrobe, there was a birthday card from Potter. Magically speaking, they were quite interesting, actually. You see, they were magical cards, so they sang 'Happy Birthday', spit out confetti, and even tap-danced across my dresser.

The only bad thing about the cards was that the confetti one started to malfunction and throw out excess amounts of metallic paper bits until the entire floor and most of our possessions were covered with it. It took all of us a good ten minutes to find the spell to stop it. And then since no one could remember the spell to clean up stuff like that, we had to look up that spell too.

When I finally arrived in the common room, Potter approached me with a large package in his hands. "Happy Birthday" he said as he handed the box to me. I was going to go back to the dormitory and stuff it under my bed and hopefully forget about it, until Sirius started loudly insisting that I open the package there and then.

Potter bought me a whole set of books on Charms. They have really wonderful pictures and details and…just all sorts of amazing things. They're wonderful except for the fact that they came from Potter.

A small card was in the front cover of the first book. It read: "To a very special flower on her birthday. May it be a memorable day filled with joy." Then, at the bottom he had written: "It would be memorable if you agreed to go out with me…and filled with joy. What do you say?"

How about "no"?

The bad part came at breakfast. Potter stood up on the bench and announced to the entire Hall that it was my birthday and then proceeded to lead them in the Happy Birthday song.

That's three times in two weeks that I've nearly died of embarrassment. At the rate I'm going, I'll be dead by next term. Oh well, then I won't have to face Potter. It's all for the greater good.

After breakfast, as my friends and I were walking to our first class, I noticed that people were looking at me rather oddly. At first, I thought it was because of the spectacle Potter made of me at breakfast, but then Alice realized that, hovering above my head, there were the words "Sweet Sixteen" in red and gold lettering.

Potter had struck again.

In Potions, the professor paired me up with Potter. I don't think that he did it to make me suffer, although it was defiantly a fringe benefit. I think he wanted to separate Potter and Black. The last time they were Potions partners, everyone had to go to the hospital wing to…. well, I'd rather not think about it again. Ever.

Of course, being paired with Potter, I could hardly avoid him.

Potter: "So, Evans. Sweet sixteen huh?"

Me: "Potter, please leave me alone. We have a potion to work on."

Potter: "Did you like the books I gave you?"

Me: "No, go away."

Potter: " I think you do."

Me: "And what gives you that idea?"

Potter: "Because you have one of them with you right now."

Me: "Bugger off."

He then proceeded to ask me about being kissed. It has to be one of the strangest conversations I have ever had in my entire life. Not to mention that it was highly embarrassing.

Potter: "Sweet sixteen and never been kissed?"

Me: "Add the newt eyes and stir them for five minutes."

Potter: "What, you've never been kissed?"

Me: "Potter, just add the eyes."

Potter: "Oh, that's right, you have been kissed - by me."

Me: "I had to gargle afterwards."

Potter: "Personally, I enjoyed it."

Me: "You would."

Potter: "I bet I'm the only one who's ever kissed you."

Me: "I don't think that's any of your business."

Potter: "Your first kiss came from me."

How did he know that? Like I said, somebody is going to get it, whenever I find out whom this somebody is. Well, I have three guesses, personally, and my chips are on Hestia.

Me: "Potter, just add the eyes, stir the potion, and concentrate on your work. Is that so hard?"

Potter: "Yes, actually, it is."

Me: "And why would that be?"

Potter: "Because I'm working with you."

Me: "Bugger off."

Yeah, I know I tell him to bugger off a lot, but on short notice it's the best I can do. He makes me so frustrated and angry! My mind goes blank the minute he walks in the door. For once in my life, I wish I could say exactly what I want to say to him, when he's there. After he leaves, I always know what I should have said or done, but when he's there…I can't think strait. He messes with my mind.

Literally.

So goes my life.

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