Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related works do not belong to me, but to J.K Rowling.

Lily's Diary

Sept. 23

So mad at Potter again. I was going to at least SLIGHTLY forgive him for his undeniably prattish ways, but noooo, Mr. My-Head's-So-Inflated-It-Might-Just-Float-Off-My-Shoulders-At-Any-Random-Second has to mess it up.

I really should have seen it coming. Well, technically not SEEN it coming because I don't pretend to be one of those scarily dressed "I SEE your fuuuuutuuuuure young child" fortune tellers. But you know what I mean.

Or do you?

Nobody has the slightest clue of what I mean—least of all, me.

Lily

Sept 23

Fine…fine…I'll TELL, happy now? (But I've got to really find a safe burning place where this diary's ashes sorry, diary will finally lie).

I woke up on the late side of late today (today being Saturdayyy, lovely weekendish day that it is), and I was all hunched over with the covers wrapped over me. Probably my defense mechanisms for another "attack of the tarantulas".

Wow. Doesn't that really sound like a muggle movie? Attack of the Tarantulas: a horrifying story of a girl named Lily Evans, and the mystery murder that involved man-eating tarantulas—

Or maybe not. But still, you must admit you won't be surprised in a few years when you see the shocking commercials for my lovely movie.

Lily

Sept 23

Have a really just wasted ink on writing about a movie dubbed The Attack of the Tarantulas?

Urgh, I must be having a REALLY bad day.

Which I am.

Lily

Sept 23.

Ok, OKAY. I'll stop "beating around the bush"(weird expression)… and get to it.

Explaining my horrid breakfast encounter with Potter, that is.

Well, I woke up and it was all nice and I'd momentarily forgotten about the whole tarantula incident.

Not for long, but still.

I showered in the Heads' bathroom (and wrapped myself in one of the luxurious towels—mine are red, and embroidered in gold with L.E.—James's are gold, and embroidered in red with J.P—well, obviously…his name's not Harold, is it?), lalala, brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, changed…went down to breakfastio.

Oh, I was so purely oblivious about the sheer embarrassment that was about to befall me.

I sat down with Minnie and Tessa, as usual. We chatted, etc, and I didn't notice Mr. J.P. (as he is embroidered on his towels, at least) and his comrades conspiratorially talking over some scrambled eggs.

I, of course, didn't pay a bit of attention to them. As usual.

I was just innocently eating my traditional breakfast, when it happened.

I took a sip of the orange juice that had been conveniently placed before me. I assumed that Minnie or Tessa had retrieved it for me.

Oh, how wrong I was….but I didn't know it then.

So Tessa was in the middle of discussing Sally Samermuth's huge crush on Sirius Black (apparently she'd tearfully confessed this fact last night in the girls dormitory…I'm now glad I wasn't there to witness it), when IT happened.

So, I sipped the orange juice…and just as I set it down, do you know what comes floating out of it, like some spooky black-ghosty thing?

A LIFE SIZE BLACK GHOSTY-ISH FREAKY TARANTULA, IS WHAT!

I was so freaked out that I knocked over the orange juice, which spilled all over my toast with the jams (not making a very appetizing picture, all in all).

So I shrieked and everybody was just sort of…staring at the, well…thing is the most effective word, I guess.

It floated upwards, like some magic balloon—except that it was shaped as a spider, but no matter, you get my gist.

Everybody at the table was staring at it, almost hypnotized. We just kind of watched it float up and enlarge slowly in the air. We were all in shock, I suppose.

The only people who weren't gaping at the—thing—in surprise was the Dynamic Duo times two (equals four…) a.k.a. the Marauders. They in fact were cackling… although none of them have visible warts or green skin, they surely sound like those comical witches that muggles portray.

This should have given me some clue, but you've got to have a little mercy on me. I mean, it isn't every day that a ghostly spider floats out of your orange juice!

Our (meaning everybody at the table) eyes were going up, and up, watching the progress of that darned ghost-like tarantula. It went up, and up and up…and it kept getting larger, till it was the size of maybe a beach ball… we were all craning our heads back to see…

POOF!

Then it exploded with a pop, and everybody simultaneously shrieked. Black sparks rained down—effectively ruining my carefully crafted toast creation.

What a morning.

Lily

Sept. 23

I talked to Minnie later; she explained that Sirius, Remus and James had transfigured a piece of toast into—into—into the ghostly black tarantula-thing.

I don't know what, exactly, this means—probably that I will fear toast eternally.

Hopefully not, because that would ruin my seven-years-and-counting breakfast regimen of blackberry and apricot jams on toast.

And that would be a shame.

Lily

Sept. 23

It's night, and I'm really in dire need for my scone and tea. Minnie's snoring resembles a vacuum cleaner (and a very loud one, at that…), and Tessa is falling asleep over her Potions homework.

I don't really have the heart to wake either of the sad, pathetic losers I call my friends (just joking) up.

Also, I need to find Sirius…to confirm the details of the food and etc. for Minnie's party (we still have practically zero plans for it…agggghhhh!).

I wouldn't put it past him to be in the kitchen, holding all the elves at gunpoint for them to surrender all their chocolate éclairs and marshmallows, and whatnot.

Well, maybe not THAT far, but you catch my drift.

I really am risking my Head Girl status here…ah well, live on the wild side…wait, no, walk on the wild si--…whatever, go bloody join a circus on the wild side, for all I care.

The point is, I'm going to the kitchens.

Wish me luck, 'cause I'm sure I'll need a few truckloads of it.

Lily

Sept. 23.

Weirdest kitchen experience, by far.

Oh, my gosh. I CANNOT believe…THAT happened.

Oh, my goodness.

It was so…ok, I'll just tell the thing.

After all…I was greeted by an overly enthusiastic: "Giglio!"

Okay, okay, I'll back up a little.

I entered the kitchen, and was in the process of making my lovely tea, when I hear somebody shout happily, "Giglio!"

And who was it?

Sirius, with a whole huge hoard of every variety of marshmallows imaginable spread out in front of him. He waved merrily, and I looked at him as if he had three heads.

After all, the name isn't Giglio. I thought he might've learned that over the course of seven fun-filled years at Hogwarts.

He wasn't about to start calling Hogwarts Hogwartsio or something?

I set down my scone and tea, on the other head side of the long table that's usually set up in the kitchens.

Undeterred, Sirius replied: "Come sta andando?"

I must say that I was performing my, if I do say so myself, very accurate "gaping-fish" sort of expression. It's one of my best.

" James ha messo un potion di lingua italiana su me!"

Right when I heard the word "James", I knew there would be trouble. I attempted communicating with Sirius, who looked undeterred at his foreign language.

"What did James do, Sirius?" I asked exasperatedly.

"Ho detto già, giglio caro... che ha messo un potion di lingua italiana su me!" he explained, waving his hands for extra emphasis. I took a calming sip of tea.

"Now, Sirius." I began in my best Head-Girlish sort of voice (I've been practicing that as well. You know, I've got a lot of time on my hands while I patrol.), "Can you stop speaking in…is it Italian?"

"No, ma io non desidererebbe smettere di parlarlo anche se potessi!" he said, still making not a bit of sense.

Still, this wasn't out of the ordinary, really…Sirius never makes sense.

Perhaps that's why he's friends with James.

"One word answers, please! A nod or a shake of the head would do just fine. Now: can you speak in English?" I said authoritatively.

"No. Presto, comunque." Sirius said, shaking his head. His black hair flopped over his eyes in the process, making him look rather cute—in a puppy-speaking-italian sort of way.

EW. Did I just say that I thought Sirius Black was CUTE?

This diary must be burned immediately.

"Can you…try to speak in English?" I asked, totally unsure about what to do. After all, it's not every day that you see a fellow student spouting off in a foreign language.

"Proverò." He said cheerfully.

"Ok, um…" I replied.

"Non è il...my…italiano…perfect?"

I sighed in relief. Finally, a word in English!

"Yes…your Italian's good." I said dutifully.

"sì…I mean, yes…I know!" Sirus replied, grinning cheekily.

"So what happened?"

"James put an Italian speaking potion in my pumpkin juice." Sirius replied cheerfully. "Bloody great idea—but I'll get him back, you see…I'll give him a sonnet-speaking potion in HIS pumpkin juice!"

I grinned.

"Great idea." I said, biting into my scone.

"Yes, I know!" Sirius said, chewing on a bit of marshmallow. "I've been planning it since last year, and now I've got the opportune moment." He paused. "Want some marshmallow?"

I was acting really civilly towards Black, which was odd, but I guess the scone and tea really pacify me. Which was probably why I replied, "Sure." And walked over and took the chair next to him.

"Here, I've got a whole variety!" Sirius announced and indeed he did. Foot-long ones, in all shapes in sizes, charmed to be different colors, in different flavors…a typical boy's heaven, to sum it up.

Although I don't mind marshmallows, myself.

Lalala.

This is the part where it got tricky. Eeeeek, it's painful retelling it…aggghhh…but these are the, um, pains we must, go through to be successful in life?

Okay, wrong wise saying.

I sort of stared at Sirius's vast marshmallow collection for a second, astounded. There was easily a lifetime supply.

"Bet I can eat this faster than you, Lily!" Sirius taunted, holding out a foot-long marshmallow.

It was almost like one of those strings of connected sausages.

Only, you know, they were…not sausages. They were marshmallows, but a foot-long string of them.

"Not a chance, Black!" I responded.

"Still on surnames, are we?" he asked, applying his "heart-breaking grin" as he probably classifies it.

For the record, my heart is perfectly intact so it is a NON WORKING heart-breaking smile. But anyway.

"Afraid so."

Oh gosh, now that I write it all down, it sounds as if I was FLIRTING with him…aaggghhh. With Sirius Black, no less!

Well, for the record, I was not. Not flirting with Sirius Black, that is. I would more likely flirt with a doorknob.

"Fine." Sirius said, putting on a fake injured look.

I couldn't help but giggle. After all, he looked so comical.

"Okay…so we'll both try to eat towards the middle. We'll each have one side of it in our mouths. Whoever gets the middle first…is the WINNER!" Sirius declared dramatically, brandishing the string of marshmallows for effect.

The middle marshmallow had turned a deep violet, so you could tell when you got to the middle.

"Fine, Black."

Not my usual activity at 11:30ish at night, but hey, whatever.

So we each took the opposite ends of the string of marshmallow in our mouths. Sirius counted down, which was a bit of a laugh really, as he had a marshmallow in his mouth as he counted.

His "count-down" sounded somewhat like this: "Ffhhave! Fphhhaur! Tmphhree! Ffffoo! Ffffffwwwaaan!"

Then we each started gobbling the thing down. It was good, to be sure. And I realized, as I was madly chewing…that…well, our LIPS might meet at the middle.

Of course, I couldn't just call off the whole thing in the middle of all-out chomping! It's, like, against the Marshmallow-Eating Constitute or something. Whatever, you just can't stop eating it.

So, I just focused on eating as quickly as I could, in effort to reach that darned violet deathtrap in front of me.

Anyway, I guess Sirius isn't credited as being "The Fastest Eater On The Face Of The Earth" for nothing…as he had reached the violet marshmallow a second before me.

He stayed there, though…his grey eyes just boring into me in a very…well, attractive, way…and I had barely just finished the marshmallow…when IT happened.

THE incident, is how I will refer to it from now on.

Aggh…well, I'd just finished the marshmallow and his lips were practically touching mine.

And we were just staring at eachother…it was really quite freaky…and then…our lips did touch.

He leaned in and kissed me very softly, and then I was kissing him, and his lips were very soft and sweet…like the marshmallow we'd just finished devouring…I don't know what had gotten into me.

If I hadn't made my tea myself, I would have suspected that the elves had drugged my tea, or something.

Because there I was, kissing Sirius Black in the middle of the KITCHENS, for goodness sakes! An elf could have just kind of walked in on us! DUMBLEDORE could've…anybody could've…but the person who walked in on us was…

Well, when we heard the door open we kind of dazedly pulled away from each other, still without saying a word of what had transpired.

And who walked in, but…James.

He looked at us…and said: "Sirius, are you done getting the mar—"

This was the lovely (not) moment when he noticed me.

Me and Sirius staring at each other like some lab specimen.

He gaped at us like a fish, or something.

Then he noticed the strand of marshmallow that had connected itself from Sirius's lips to mine.

James then went through three face expressions. It would have been vastly interesting, of course, had the situation not been so…well, Sirius (lovely pun, I know, and it would be immensely original had not everybody use it every two second or so, sometimes more).

The first face stage was:

1. Shock. This was the part when James noticed me. He gaped like a blowfish, or something, and his eyes went as wide as marbles, face turning an interesting ghostly white mixed with brown color.

Rather like the color of porridge when I attempt to make it.

(This cooking attempt usually ends up with the kitchen in flames, and me trying to frantically wet down the leaping flames.

If it's a really interesting time, the fire fighters come, too, but let's not recount that now, er, okay?)

2. Horrification. (Wow, had no idea that was a word). His eyes went all rolly because they traveled down, and up, and down, and up, and down, and up, and…ok, you get the point…well, anyway, he noticed the darned strand of marshmallow leading from my to

Sirius's mouth.

3. The final, and foremost stage of expression was: Hurt.

I even felt kind of bad for him at this stage, which is saying something major, as I NEVER feel badly for James Potter. It simply isn't done.

Then he abruptly left the room as soon as he came.

Oh, great: Now I'm in a 'love triangle' with two of Hogwarts' most 'eligible bachelors' (Hufflepuffs' words, not mine).

Sirius and I then broke away really quickly, and Sirius started muttering to himself. Well, if nothing else than being an amazing kisser, the boy does have a rather wide vocabulary of some very colorful swearwords.

"I'll talk to you—" Sirius said rushedly, putting his hand on my shoulder, and then we simultaneously sprinted from the room.

The Damned Room Of Marshmallows, I should call it now.

Even though 'of' isn't supposed to be capitalized—I've just been through an experience here, people, don't berate me for incorrect grammar!

Agh.

Lily

A/N: Hey!

Um, hope you liked it. I'm honestly very tired and as such will not make the author's note horribly long.

However…I just wanted to say, that if you want me to consistently update, then you must review. I don't want to be greedy but I've got a lot of things I have to do (as well as my other story…Love is a Funny Thing) so if nobody really likes it, well then…ok. Anyway, as I was saying, review and tell me honestly your opinion. : - )

'Kay, well thanks a bunch to my reviewers. I won't do responses as I'm too tired. Ok, here goes to: Vanessa-Black and Zabini, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, QueenTigress, Jamie Leigh, Senora and DobbyGrl.