A/N: Woohoo! I got a review! i love you, reviewy person! I'm estatic. And since I got a review, I've updated quickly. See? Yesyes. Hmm. Haha. Okay, just read now.

12:30

Dear Galaderwalderwitz

Transfiguration was cool. But I think McGonagall taught us a little unfairly… she got our hopes up about what we were going to learn by turning into a cat, and turning her desk into a pig (it stepped on a girls foot… she had to be taken to the hospital wing… snigger snigger), and then we got to spend the class turning matchsticks into toothpicks. Oh joy. I personally think James doesn't need any more pointy things around him… he's a danger to enough of the students as it is.

History of Magic is boring. I don't even remember what Professor Binns was supposed to be teaching us, anyway.

Well, at least I know I'm not a swot, because I can't manage to pay attention on the first day.

9:14

Dear G

Double potions was double BORING. We have it with the Slytherins. They're really annoying. Especially the girls who sit behind us. They have enormous gobs, which they have covered in lippy and cackle evilly in class it's not really cackling, really. It's more of a high-pitched shriek, which terribly reminds me of Nightwish.

Professor Bellamy (aka all-mighty potions person) is as boring as Binns and twice as stupid.

"We could probably beat his shins with sticks, and he wouldn't notice, as long as we said we were trying to learn to play rugby." James pointed out. Sirius laughed, and I got really confused because I had no idea what that had to do with anything. So I pointed this out in a roundabout way.

"James, that made absolutely no sense, dippy-pants." And that made James stop and blink at me, and someone flung a bit of sausage at his face. It was quite amusing, actually.

After dinner, I realized we had an incredibly lengthily essay to do for History of Magic. Who honestly gives that much homework on the first bloody day of school! And incredibly dim person, that who. Just because Professor Binns' life is nearly over doesn't mean he gets to ruin ours.

What a fun day. Joy joy.

September 3rd

12:20 PM

Dear Galaderwalderwitz

Sorry if I'm writing on a bit of a slant, my hand has not yet entirely recovered from that… eventful charms period. We're learning to make things fly. Feathers, most specifically. I could do it perfectly, and the Professor was so impressed, he got me to help an incredibly dim fat boy (I suspect he wears nappies) who had somehow managed to light Professor Fegan's toupee on fire. Insert various sarcastic sounds here.

Of course, Sirius and James, being the bright children they are, decided that feathers weren't very interesting, and started making various objects fly around the classroom. A particularly large textbook decided to land on my hand. Ergo, I've had a terrible case of spazzy fingers ever since.

September 4th

Pre-brekkie

Dear Galaderwalderwitz

I think Sirius stole my watch.

Midday

He did.

"Why?" I asked, out of curiosity. And annoyance.

"Because I don't have one. But look what we did! We charmed it to tell what's for the dindins, instead." He replied. He is exceptionally dim.

"You are exceptionally dim." And now, I have no watch. Joy.

Still midday

He called dinner dindins?

Good grief.

September 6th

Midday

Dear Galaderwalderwitz

Defence Against the Dark Arts is very frightening. Not because we're learning anything that is frightening; Professor Hart is quite possibly the baldest person alive. He looks like a boiled egg in robes. And he is a complete nutter. It's quite frightening. I think he thinks he's Irish, because he says things like 'Blimey O'Reily's trousers!' and talked at us for a million years about haggis.

"Who's Blimey o'Reily?" James asked me during class.

"Probably some bloke with really big trousers." I replied. Well, that's the impression I got. Do you know who he is? Of course not. You're a diary.

September 7th

Post-Brekkie Morning

Dear G

Woohoo! It's the weekend! Now I get to spend some quality time doing some homework for the Elderly Mad (aka Hart) while James and Sirius try out their newest prank on some unsuspecting student. Probably Fat Boy (aka Peter).

Right after breakfast, I headed down to the library to do work on my essay. I accidentally (really!) walked into a girl with incredibly greasy black hair. I wasn't paying attention, and I walked into her, and fell on my bum.

"Oops, sorry." I said, picking myself up. The person I walked into turned around, and I got the most horrible shock I had since… I can't remember when, actually.

Anyway, not only WASN'T the person a girl, but they had the HUGEST NOSE I had EVER seen!

I'm sure that if I did not have better control over myself, my mouth would have dropped open, and I would have shuddered and backed away in disgust at the size of that conk.

"Watch where you're going, Lupin." He spat my last name like it was some sort of horrible plant that had given him terrible welts on his… err, he just spat it in disgust, and stomped away in a wave of his overly greasy hair. I was surprised he could even turn with that gigantic nose. You'd think it would hit the wall.

Urrgh. Now I feel all greasy from walking into him. I need to go wash myself.

Afternoon

Dear G,

Worst fears confirmed. Peter wears nappies. Eleven years old, and wearing diapers. How do I know? He left on in my bed. A poo filled one.

Ew.

I refuse to sleep in a bed that is filled with poo explosion. I'll have to… sleep on the floor… or bunk with Siri or something. I'm not sleeping in it until someone cleans, exterminates, disinfects and exorcises it.

Okay, onto my other worst fear. TOMORROW IS THE FULL MOON! What am I going to do? I will have to talk to Madam Pomfrey. What if James and Sirius find out? Worry worry, fret fret. Surely they won't want to be hanging out with a werewolf. Oh no! Gah! Worry worry, fret fret, bother bother… ugnnnhhhh….

September 8th,

Evening

Dear G

All aloney, on my owney.

I suppose I could whine at you for forty years about how horrible turning into a werewolf is, but that isn't very interesting.

I'm in a weird little hut thingy in Hogsmead… but no one knows I'm here, except Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey came and got me, and I had to go in this tunnel that's in the roots of this willow tree. Simple, eh? Well, not really, because the tree likes to beat people up if they go near it. Madam Pomfrey had a big stick that she prodded the knot on the trunk with it, and it froze (As in stopped moving, not entrapped in a ginormous ice cube. Durrrr.). Handy.

It's actually quite nice in here. There's a little table and a couple of chairs and a neat little bed… I don't see what the point is, though, if I'm just going to kill it to the extent that furniture can be killed.

I hope James and Sirius are feeling particularity dim tonight. They were out causing mayhem and destruction when I Madam Pomfrey came for me, so I just quickly left a note. My excuse was pitiful; so pitiful I'm embarrassed to say it to my diary.

Anyway, I really don't think they will buy it. I just hope they don't piece two and two together…

September 9th

Dear G

Luckily, James and Sirius are particularly dim.

"'Morning, Rem. Hope the squatters didn't steal too much... and I hope your 'rents had a lovely time in Bermuda," Was the first thing I heard today.

I'm not sure if I should be proud of my spectacular brilliance in the excuse department, or ashamed of my mates who are ludicrously slow.

Common Room (after class-ish)

Me and Sirius and James sitting in the Common Room, doing our homework, disguising ourselves as regular students when we are, in fact, incredible loons. We were doing our homework when this girl with a large amount of red hair walks up to us.

"Are you using this book?" She said, gesturing to some textbook sitting on the table. I shook my head, and she took it and left. (Don't worry, there is actually a point to this story.)

"Ginger nob," Sirius whispered to me, and we started sniggering. Then we looked at James, and he was doing this weird opening and closing his mouth thing. I don't think he realized he was doing it. He looked like a goldfish. He just ogled the girl from a far, in a goldfishy manner. We just stared at him, waiting for his brain to come back from the holiday it just went on. He kept staring. And opened his mouth again. I stuck my quill in his mouth.

That got James's attention. He coughed and sputtered, "What in the name of McGonagall's moustache are you doing?"

Sirius and I started laughing like loons on loon pills (ie, a LOT) and James wandered off to leave us to do our homework in peace.

McGonagall's moustache indeed.

September 17th

After Dindins

Dear Galaderwalderwitz

James and Sirius looked all excited. They keep whispering. Excitedly. That would be where I got the assumption they were excited.

"We found a secret passageway!" Sirius told me, when e and James excited their way over to me.

"Yeah! You go to the big statue of the witch with the hump, you tap it, and you say 'dissendium,'" How would they figure that out? Do they tap statues and say random words on a regular basis? Good grief.

"We don't know where it goes, though."

"You need to come with us."

I wonder if they realize I don't care?

Later

I don't know how I get myself dragged into these things, because now I'm cold, wet, and underground. Brilliant.

In bed

Gahh. I'm all soggy. I'll have to get back at those two for that. Snuggle snuggle under the covers, and somehow manage to write at the same time. Sometimes I amaze myself.

The tunnel went on for twenty years, and then there was a stairway that was even longer. But, eventually, we did get somewhere. We came up in a cellar. I tried to turn back, but the others wanted to see where we had come up. So, we came up from the cellar, and were in Honeydukes, a sweets shop in Hogsmead.

After that, I managed to get Sirius and James to come back, thank Merlin. Who knows what they would have done loose in Hogsmead? I say they, because I would have marched right back to Hogwarts, whether they were coming or not. So we went back, but not before the other two managed to snag some candy.

Great. Now I'm a thief.

Oh well. At least I have sweets.

September 18th

Dear G

Ugghhhnnnhh. I'm exhausted. No more midnight escapades for me.

September 20th

Dear G

Professor hart is particularly useless. Rather than teach us anything, he tells us stories about the production of Swiss Cheese flavoured crackers, or long tales about when he went on trips to places I'm sure you've never heard of.

After a long and boring lesson about salsa dancing with the Giant Squid, we were headed to lunch.

I say 'we', as in James, Sirius, Indecent Peter, and Me. Indecent Peter seems to have attached himself to James for some reason. There's a story to tell behind that, but that is for another time, and right now, I want to get to the nub of my story.

We were walking to lunch. I was hungry and my brain had died from visions of Hart salsa dancing(shudder).

"What's for lunch?" I asked Sirius dully.

"Uh oh…" He said, peering at his watch uncertainly (you know, the one that tells what's for lunch. Actually, it's my watch. But he stole it and, quite frankly, I don't want it back.) Now, where was I before I so rudely interrupted myself?

"What?" Indecent Peter asked.

"It says… 'experimental dish.'" We blinked at him.

"Oh dear."

Then, when we got to lunch, we all were rather uncertain about the food. Quite rightfully, if I do say so myself.

It was macaroni.

Without the cheese.

"House elves getting a little lazy, eh?" A fourth year said as he sat down beside Sirius.

"No, it's an experimental dish." Sirius replied, full of all-knowing-ness.

"How do you know that?" The fourth year raised an eyebrow at him.

"My watch says so." He replied, and everyone (i.e., me, James, Sirius, and Indecent Peter… you know, the people who matter. Not that Indecent Peter matters, but he just kind of copies everything James does. Therefore he counts.) started laughing hysterically. Unfortuneatly, the fourth year did not get the joke, looked at us like we were crossing the line into bonkerdom, and moved to a different seat.

I feel so loved.

A/N: W00t! Not as long as Sir Chappie the First, but I think this one is better. Actually, I can't remember what's int he firsty one. ff .net likes to kill my format, though. Aw well. It's readable.

If you review, I'll love you forever. If you flame... (not that I see why you could...)... I'll love you forever anyway. Now I'm off to listen to some crazy-esque techno music. Pip pip for now!