Prologue

This journal was presented to Lily Evans as she is attending Hogwarts for her last year.

With love, Mum xx

31st August

1 Day to Go!!!

I have basically pulled my bedroom apart, and I still can't find it.

I've taken everything out of my wardrobe, everything out of my draws, I've stripped my bed, and its nowhere to be found. I've even dug through the remains of dead mice and cat droppings, but all in vain. It is not it Ebony's litter tray.

It is not anywhere in my room.

I take one last look in my trunk, shifting everything. Books, parchment, ink bottled, quills, clothes - the lot.

I reach my uniform. And there it is. Pinned to my robes - my Head Girl badge. Exactly where an organized, sensible person would put it.

So not me.

1st September

Compartment 14

Waiting for Anna and Rachel

Why does it always seem that I am the one waiting for them? We always meet in Compartment 14. Where could they be? It is almost five minutes to eleven. I am a paranoid person. I am worried. Why are they not here?

Still 1st September

Still Compartment 14

Still Waiting for Anna and Rachel

It is now exactly three minutes to eleven. I am desperate. Where are they?

Ah, a shadowy figure at the door? Who could that be?

Later

What a surprise. Potter. But, without his posse. How strange. (?)

'Alright there, Lily?'

He stood there, not cocky, not grinning maliciously, not ready to pull a prank on me. He wasn't leaning against the doorframe, sporting his usual playing-it-cool approach.

But it wasn't just his whole attitude that freaked me. It was the fact that, for the first time that I could remember, he had called me by my first name.

Not Evans.

Lily.

I looked at him, confused. What was going on here?

'You're friends a bit late?' he said, taking a step inside the compartment.

'Um…' I trailed off, unsure of his motives.

He sighed, ran his fingers through his messy hair - a hugely irritating habit of his. That got me. However un-cocky, un-arrogant, un-conceited he seemed on the outside today, he was still Potter on the inside.

'Well, I don't see your friends anywhere either,' I said, raising one eyebrow. 'Got a bit fed up of you, have they? Took them long enough.'

I am often quite abrasive towards him, but he remained unruffled.

'Actually, I came to see you.' He pointed to my chest. 'Head Girl?'

'Yeah, what about it?' I replied coolly.

He showed me a badge on his robes. Oh no.

'Guess we're in it together then Lil?' he said, flopping beside me on the seat. I turned to him.

'For one thing, I am grateful for your sudden decision to call me by my first name, but my name is not Lil, Potter - it's Lily.' I replied coldly.

'Okay, okay.'

A little smile played about his face.

'So if you're going to be Lily, I'm going to be James, alright? Not Potter - James.'

'Whatever.'

I began writing in this journal again, sending put psychic vibes to Potter indicating him to go away. But I suppose that Potters don't have the talent of being able to understand psychic vibes as well as Evans'.

He shook his head in mock despair.

'You are a hard woman to please, Lily.'

'Embrace it. Fear it.'

I responded dully, not looking up at him.

As you can probably tell, I am not perturbed by his comments. Well, not often. It is correct that redheads have fiery tempers, so when I do get a little feisty, it is my genetics' fault.

He casually flicked his wrist, checking the time. 'We'd better go.'

'We?'

'Yeah, head Boy and Head Girl. There's a reserved compartment for us at the end of the train. C'mon. Dumbledore wants us to have a meeting before we get to school.'

I ripped a sheaf of paper from this book and have written a note to Anna and Rachel explaining my disappearance.

More later.

Head Compartment

I am officially freaked out.

James Potter, it turns out, can understand some psychic vibes sent out to him by Lily Evans. He was actually nice for a change. But what's more, I was nice back to him.

'So.' he said, glancing at his reflection in the window as we walked by the endless carriages. I rolled my eyes. Typical Potter.

'What subjects are you doing this year?' he asked finally.

'Oh, all the old ones except I'm not doing Divination - it was a complete waste of time, and I'm doing double Defence Against the Dark Arts instead.' I replied. 'What about you?'

'Oh, same.' he nodded. 'Listen, Lily…'

'Yeah?'

'You know this is our last year at Hogwarts, right?'

'Yeah..' I said slowly.

'Well, can we just forget all the pranks and stuff, and… you know… be friends?'

'What?' I stared at Potter in amazement. There was almost a guilty loom in his eyes. Something must have triggered a new hormone in his brain during the summer. I could not seriously believe a word I was hearing. Was this the same Potter who had repeatedly pulled pranks on me? Repeatedly treated me like a worthless human being? Repeatedly asked me out, only to be turned down again?

Everyone is here now. I think we'd better begin.

Later, back in Compartment 14

We are all playing Exploding Snap. Well, I'm not. I'm writing in this journal in between my go's.

By all I mean me, Anna and Rachel.

I hadn't seen Anna or Rachel since three weeks into the holidays when we all met up in Diagon Alley for a shopping spree, on account of Rachel's birthday.

I gave her a really long fluffy green scarf and a customized notebook. I personalized it myself. I borrowed my mum's glue-gun, which she uses for card making, and bought a load of rhinestones, glitter and sequins and stuck them all over the front cover of the book. But I did it creatively, so it looks pretty good. I wrote her name in fancy italic writing on the inside cover, and decorated it with a few fake diamonds.

Rachel is a huge fan of customisation, Muggles and quirky retro stuff.

Anna gave her a bottle of Unpoppable Bubble Bath and a pink cat collar with Marlin stitched in purple thread for her cat. And a Honeyduke Deluxe Gift Box.

Marlin and Ebony were lazing on a seat near the window. I stroked Ebony's back, and she purred loudly.

Ebony is my beautiful jet black cat. Sometimes she is the only person I can confide my feelings in. Besides this journal, of course. I share almost everything with Anna and Rachel, but there are some things, and only a few, that I like to keep to myself. Like just how nice James Potter's eyes are.

Did I, Lily Evans, just compliment Potter?

I think it must be pre-Hogwarts excitement kicking in. Or PMS.

Anyway - Anna (whose eyebrows are furrowing in the cutest way as she concentrates) is my equally-best friend as well as Rachel. She is very nice, very pretty and very smart. She is also my textbook when I need to revise for a test.

I think I will stop writing now, as I am giving this square of cardboard and paper much more attention than I am giving the food-trolley, which has just arrived at our compartment.

2nd September

Lunch

I am sorry that I didn't write last night. The feast, as always, was delicious, and I was so full of food, and so full of sleepiness, that I could barely slip into my PJ's and drag myself over to my bed, let alone pick up a pen and write.

But I am fully refreshed now, and full of gratefulness for a certain person called Remus Lupin.

He has just saved me!

Saved me, from the greatest peril of failing my Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT!!! He is the best student at it, except perhaps Snape (ugh!) and maybe Sirius, but whatever! Remus is my tutor! I CANNOT FAIL!!!!

Let me just say, for the sake of whatever, I absolute suck at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Well, maybe not so much practical, but theory - yup!

Anyways, that exciting news is out of the way. Oops, I just spilt steak and kidney pie on this page. A little Scernio Charm will sort that out.

'You got Lupin as a tutor? I'm so jealous!' moaned Anna. She replayed what she had just said, looked fleetingly startled, then added 'I mean, he's like the best at Dark Art stuff!'

I have a secret idea that maybe she likes Lupin a little. She glanced quickly over at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. She has the cutest splatter of freckles on her nose.

Please excuse my randomness. I am a very random sort of person, and I am prone to making all sorts of random comments about random things at random moments in time.

Like the fact that this steak and kidney pie is actually very good pie. It goes well with pumpkin juice.

Rachel is buried in another book - Modern Giants by Professor Hugh Mungus. She is fascinated with Care of Magical Creatures, giants, house-elves, gnomes, goblins… Name any magical creature and she'll be fascinated.

I don't have a particular interest in any subjects. Anna, who comes form a completely magical background, is fascinated with Muggles. Rachel is both - her mum is Muggle, her Dad's a wizard. We all know that blood has no effect on how good a witch/wizard you are. For instance, (not meaning to sound big-headed) I am Muggle born, and better at Transfiguration than both of them put together.

But saying that, I need a Defence Against the Dark Arts tutor, so I can't really talk.

This morning consisted of Double Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy. This afternoon is Care of Magical Creatures and Charms.

I think I will use the half hour I have spare (I have finished my pie) to start on the Blistering Blend essay for Professor Marchant.

I am now going to excuse myself from the company of Anna and Rachel, and meet them in Care of Magical Creatures.

The Library

Okay, I lied. I am not writing my essay, although I have tried.

Here is my first starting sentence (I cut it out of the parchment and have taped it in here - as you can see)

The Blistering Blend is a complex Potion made from an assortment of ingredients, such as the rare Milkweed leaves, Kingthorn roots, and lash flies simmered at night during a full moon.

Suddenly, a shadow looms over my work. I see Potter standing there, clutching parchment and a quill.

'Lily? Are you doing the essay for Marchant?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Oh, well I've just started,' he said, 'and I've got stuck, and I was wondering if -'

'If I would help you?'

I paused, considering. I could also do with some help, I thought. I shifted some of my books and made a space on the table.

'Is that a yes?' he asks.

'No, of course not. I'm just moving my stuff because I feel like it.'

'Oh.' He sits down. We talk over the subject, try to remember what Marchant told us during the lesson. Not much, I recall. Or maybe I just wasn't listening.

Then the talk turns away from Potions.

'So why're you doing you're homework now anyway? You used to always leave it to the last minute. That's if you even did it.' I say.

'Well, I figured this year I would try get it done when I had time, so I could make time for…' he stops uncomfortably. 'For other things.' he concludes.

'Quidditch? I hear you're captain now.'

'Yeah.'

'Congratulations.'

'Oh, thanks.' he pulls a textbook towards him and starts scribbling. I begin again.

Then, something large, supple and very wet hit's the back of my head.

Charms

Maybe it wasn't the most sensible thing to do, but as I said yesterday, redheads genetically have a feisty temper.

I whip around to see the remainder of the Marauders pelting water bombs at my head. Mainly Sirius. Peter can't throw. Lupin isn't there.

I stand up. Take my stuff, take my essay, shove everything into my bag. Turn to leave.

'Where're you going?' begins James, then sees me sopping wet, then a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

That sets me off.

'Where am I going?' I say, my voice as even, but as dangerous as I can make it. 'I'm getting away from you. I know what that was all about. You haven't changed. You don't want to be "friends".' I say, working up my anger.

'You came over here to try and prove yourself as Mr. Nice Guy, so that the rest of your Meandering Marauders can throw water balloons at my head.'

I feel my cheeks flushing with rage and embarassment. '

Well,' I say, 'I think proves yourself to me quite nicely.'

I let the fury I am feeling slip into my vocal chords.

'It proves that you are a worthless, conceited human being whose brain is so big it could fit inside a peanut shell, and there'd still be room for the peanut!!'

With that, I turn and stride out of the library. Madam Pince is staring after me with a mix of ferocity and awe on her shrivelled face, and half the kids are gawking at me as if I'm a dangerous psychopath, which, on consideration, I might be, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time.

But, I did think, as I hurried to Care of Magical Creatures with still ten minutes to spare, I delivered that little speech quite nicely, and as I was concerned, Potter deserved all he got.