Thursday, July 8, 1976

Dear Diary,

How long does it take for shock to wear off? It's been two days since James kissed me. And I'm still thinking about it.

I don't know why I'm freaking out so much over this. He's done worse things to me. I think, if I remember correctly, he slapped my rear at the Fourth Year Yule Ball. But that didn't count, because he was smiling cheekily as he did it.

This time, he looked so downtrodden when I told him he wrecked my life. He actually seemed like he was trying to impress my family. He has no reason to. I was expecting him to set my stove on fire. And my stove is still in one piece.

And for some reason, I'm looking forward to next week. Exactly one week from today, James will be back at my house and we will be going to this carnival. I wonder if James has ever been to a carnival. I mean, witches and wizards have much better things to do with their time then ride around in circles on electric bumper cars.

I bet James is going to get to this fair, take one look at the Tilt-A-Whirl, and wonder why he isn't hanging out with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. He's going to be so bored. He's going to think I'm boring.

I know he already thinks I'm a dork who fights with her parents and sleeps with stuffed unicorns on her bed. Now he's going to think I don't know how to have fun.

Diary, why in the name of Merlin am I thinking about all this? I hate James Potter, I hate him. He deserves to have an awful time this summer. It can be revenge for him pushing me into the lake in our first year.

Sunday, July 11, 1976

Dear Diary,

I have come to the conclusion that I am thinking too much about James Potter. Flipping through the last few entries in my diary, I haven't even mentioned Dorcas, Emmeline, or Marlene. Hell, I haven't even written to them in a few days. They must think I've died from lack of shopping. I haven't been to Diagon Alley in at least a week.

I'm going to hide my diary under my bed and write them all wonderfully long letters about everything I've been up to lately. I can't wait to hear about what they're doing. It can take my mind off of… him. Yes, you know- him. I'm not going to say his name anymore.

Sunday, July 11, 1976- Later

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to write about besides James Potter. This must be a bad thing.

Tuesday, July 13, 1976

Dear Diary,

Hiding my own diary was the crummiest idea I have ever come up with. I remember exactly where I hid it. And all day yesterday I just stared at my bed sheets and thought about writing in here.

Nothing good is even happening. I have virtually nothing to write about. It's not like I'm going on a date and need to plan my outfit or anyth—

Holy shit. What am I going to wear when I go to the carnival!

I only have two days to plan an outfit. What if I can't find anything to wear and I have to go shopping? Why did I not think of this ahead of time?

There is nothing good in my closet. I wonder if I should wear a skirt or shorts. Shorts definitely don't seem like date-wear, as my girls and I like to call it. But skirts can give off the wrong impression. And do I want to give James Potter a look at my legs?

I don't want to wear pants, though. It is much too hot in the middle of July to wear pants out. Hmm… I'll just wear my capris. Yes! If I pair my Capri pants with a nice top, it will be a good look. Maybe I can even color-coordinate my flip-flops to match.

Why am I getting dressed up for James Potter? He's only going to tease me about how I thought it was a date, anyways. And it's not. It's my parents trying to get me a date because they think I am an ugly girl who nobody will ever want to marry.

And James Potter knows that, too. Ugh, what can I do about my hair before Thursday? Should I dye it? I always hated having red hair. I have that awful splash of freckles across my nose, too. But maybe I can hide my freckles with some powder. I can borrow from Petunia; she has enough to share.

But back to the hair. I wonder if I would look better as a blonde or a brunette. What color was the hair of James' last girlfriend before me? I should dye my hair that color.

Ugh, why am I going through all this trouble? I'm getting myself a new book and I'm going to sit out on the back patio and read.

Wednesday, July 14, 1976

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow is D-Day. My hair is still red.