A/N: Much luff to all my reviewers – you guys make the world go round. ((Hands out chocolate fondant)) It's nice to see how much everybody hates Felicity and Diana. I was worrying they weren't hate-able enough.

Hate-able is a word. It is.

Sorry for the late update. I've been swamped with – everyone together now – school and whatnot.

Disclaimer: Only own the plot and whatever characters I make up.

Chapter 6: Dreams Don't Come True

"-and she just disappeared! Like that! I tell her to wait for me and she pulls a vanishing trick on me like bloody Houdini!"

The three Marauders watched in silent horror as James stabbed at the food on his plate savagely. Only Sirius seemed to ignore this; Peter and Remus assuming this must have happened again some time over the summer.

It was dinner time in Hogwarts, and Lily had managed to successfully evade the sight and sound of James Potter for the entire day since History of Magic. Even in the classes they shared (James had checked) he couldn't find her, no matter how hard he'd looked. So here he was now, attempting to kill the already dead chicken breast on his plate.

"I can't believe it! Me, James Potter, god of Hogwarts-"

"Watch it there, pal," Sirius growled in warning, looking up from where he was stuffing his face. "I am the sex god of this place. I've done it everywhere."

Peter paled and pushed away his plate with a look of disgust evident on his face. "Thanks a lot, Padfoot. I've lost my appetite now."

Sirius shrugged, grabbing Peter's plate and emptying the contents onto his own. When he saw Remus' slightly disgusted look, he smiled sheepishly. "Waste not want not, Moony."

"James."

The entire boy population of Hogwarts turned their heads like flowers to the sun, some of the younger ones glaring at the one guy lucky enough to have his name called by such an angel.

James however, only glanced over his shoulder then went back to his food. "Hey, Felicity."

With a sniff, the blonde sashayed over nonplussed and slid in beside James. One hand slipped itself onto his leg, rubbing lightly in smooth circles up and down his thigh. She smiled seductively.

"I was thinking…" She began, whispering into his ear in a soft voice, hand travelling ever upwards. "Because tomorrow is a Hogsmeade weekend, why not we go together?"

Mind still wrapped up in the hurt and confusion of being stood up by Lily that afternoon (no one had ever stood up James Potter before), James really was not thinking straight. He swiped at Felicity's hand with a grunted, "Fine, fine. I'll go if you stop doing that."

With a radiant smile, Felicity got up from her spot and pecked him on the cheek. She flounced away to Diana and Melanie, meeting excited squeals, exclamations of "You did it!" and applause.

No one noticed the pale ghost at the doors to the Great Hall, tears forming in evergreen eyes as she turned and fled.

o0o

Lily curled up on her bed, her body shaking as violent sobs racked through her fragile form. Hot rivers of tears streamed down her face, staining her robes and her cheeks.

How could he? How could he do that to her? He knew, surely he knew! How could he not know? Of course he knows! It was impossible to think that he didn't! He had to know! He needed to know. She needed him to know.

She buried her face into her pillow as fresh tears came. Oh Merlin, why did this have to be so difficult? It was only a boy. But then again, calling James Potter just a boy was like calling Dumbledore just a headmaster. It was unfathomable and just not done.

And of all the boys in Hogwarts she had to fall in love with him. The one who would never look at her the way she wanted him to. The one who would never love her. The one who would never care for her. The one who was going out with Felicity O'Connor the next day.

The sobs would never cease for the entire night.

o0o

James stormed into the Heads common room and literally stomped onto a chair. He loosened his tie and straightened his glasses as he stared heatedly into the enchanted fire. What had he done? Oh he was a git, that's for sure.

As derogatory thoughts circulated within his brain, James sighed and took out the little black journal he kept in his right robe pocket. It was his safety blanket almost. He would constantly touch it as if it were a connection to the mysterious beauty he was so enthralled with. He needed it almost as much as she did (though he didn't know this).

He caressed the cover with one finger as he turned to the page he was at and began to read.

12th September, 1977

Dear Rose,

Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to not wake up one morning, or just not get up and lay there in bed. I cry myself to sleep every night, Rose. And that's on a good day. How I manage to get through the day without breaking that perfect smile, that façade of everything being fine and okay I don't know. How I keep from crying in class because I sit by myself I don't know.

How does one stop crying? It seems like my tear capacity is far greater than that of my courage. I can't stop crying, day in, day out. My pillow's wet in the morning because I cry myself to sleep all night.

Sometimes I wonder why I keep up with it. I'm not strong, Rose, and I don't think that I ever will be. I've never been able to go through one day without crying since fourth year – did you know that? You probably did, but I just felt the need to state that to show just how pathetic I truly am.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. That's all I am, Rose. Me in a nutshell. Describe Lily Evans in one word. I hate being who I am. I hate being me. Life sucks and everyone in it for treating me like this. I just want to be accepted and not cast out. I don't want to be the lone wolf, always hanging on to the edges of everyone else. I may be unwanted, but I still have my pride. What little I have left of it, of course. Along with my spirit and my courage. So many things have deserted me over these years.

Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to be someone else. What it would be like to be someone who's accepted for who they are, and not hated because of the person they were made to be. I wonder a lot, Rose, and sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if my wishes came true.

But of course, the chances of that happening is like James Potter falling in love with me. Which is a zillion to one considering he can have any girl with a click of his fingers. What would he want with shy Lily Rosanna Evans when he can have Felicity O'Connor anyways? A girl can dream, right?

But as always, dreams are called dreams because they never come true.

Love,
Lily

A/N: I can really feel with Lily, as a lot of the same things she's described in her diary entry has been happening to me over the past few weeks as well. A great deal of emotion was stuffed into this, and the diary entry in this chapter has a certain emotional value for me.