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True Confessionals of Hogwart's own walking accident.

Chapter Two- Bookshelves really aren't meant to be used for that.

Dearest Diary,

Oh for the love of Dumbledore's spotty pants.

It was official, I now had a new title to live by in life-I had become a walking accident which not only was thicker than the thickest thick to ever live, but one who went around walking into huge, muscular walls with the names of James Potter.

So there we were, me and Potter, Potter and me, LYING on top of each other, much like a sandwich but just less nutritious and sweatier- due to Potter's excuse of 'Quidditch practise'. I'd rather like to believe he has hygiene problems and so is not fit for human habitation at Hogwarts, but I'd rather believe he didn't exist either and annoyingly, he still does. In fact if anything, I'd sworn he exists more…Yeah, I don't really get it either.

Its quite safe to say believing has got me nowhere in life- much to my utter disappointment.

I lay there, for probably a good 10 seconds, my lips on his, before realising the whole stares of the library were now placed fully on me and Potters little 'accident'. Truth be told his lips weren't as rough and 'eww' like as I'd hoped, they kinda melted into mine like warm butter.

Pretty nice, actually.

Sweetish.

WAIT.

STOP.

REWIND.

No. Just no.

I can't believe I just compared my arch rival's lips to melting butter; there is seriously something wrong with me today. No wait, scratch that, it's definitely not me; I'm as Lily Evans-ish as ever, I entirely blame the smooth, melting butter like lips of James Potter.

It was then when I realised I'd have to do some kind of pathetic attempt of an action, so I did. I did something ALL 'typical teenage girls' would do in my position. I squealed.

No, really, I did. I squealed, leapt off him and drew my wand out- I achieved all of this in about half a second. I pride myself on my multitasking skills; they got me out of some sticky, embarrassing situations- like this one, for instance.

"EVANS! Merlin Evans, now I have to purposely wash these robes just to get your Evans like germs off!" Dear lord, I think I may just have heard wrongly, James Potter, yes, THE James Potter seams to be under the impression that he didn't have to wash his sweaty Quidditch robes before I (fortunately) managed to knock him over and give him my 'Evans-Germs'. That's just disturbing- sickeningly disturbing. Who in their right (or in Potter's case, wrong) mind don't wash their Quidditch robes after they've been used?

I'll have to look into that.

I truly have no life.

Growling, I said the first thought- which wasn't necessarily a clever one, which popped into my head. "Yeah, because we ALL know that if you didn't have the 'luxury' of knocking me over; you'd probably go for months without giving your robes a good wash."

His features seemed to twist in a wickedly evil snarl as he made his way over to me. Merlin's pants he could look quite scary at times, I could feel my stare wavering as I realised just how tall he was, at least half a head taller than me. "May I refresh your memory; YOU were infact the git that managed to knock into me, NOT the other way around. At least I, unlike you, can actually see where I'm going."

By now my witty replies had just gone out the window and blown half way across the Atlantic Ocean, so I did what my natural, fighting instinct was. Gripping my wand tightly, so tight, in fact that I was mildly afraid of it snapping in my hand, I yelled a few jumbled words which wasn't even a proper spell and waited for something to happen.

Fortunately something did happen. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't what I had quite expected.

A burst of crimson light decided to shoot out the tip of my wand and straight into James' chest. He literally flew against one of the many bookcases, with such force I was sure he would have left a dent in the wall behind. I could hear Sirius' yells of "What the fuck do you think your doing!" Crystals yells of, "Jesus Christ Lily! Don't do anything stupid!" And of corse, the sour cow Librarians yell, NO, screech of, "Miss Evans! Get out my Library! OUT!"

Books went flying everywhere at Potters sudden impact, unluckily for me, they went flying mostly at me. I screamed. Yes, screamed. I was scared of a bloody book- I wanted to crawl into an extremely deep hole and lie there for the rest of my life.

Potter, luckily, or unluckily in some cases recovered from his sudden slam against the bookcase and was moving wearily on the floor while muttering curses under his breath, "Slimy little bitch," and "Who the fuck does she think she is?"-Were my favourites.

Many girls came rushing to his side, glaring me glares of pure evil to where I laid sprawled out on the floor, random books placed on top of me. Sirius and Crystal actually RAN to help James up, they didn't even give me a second glance.

That's it.

It's official.

I have no friends- nobody loves me.

I have no friends and the chances of me getting a friend now, considering I managed to slam Hogwarts's very own James Potter into a wall, were very slim. Bollocks.

When I get back to the girls dorm I shall be having very, VERY serious and anti-Potter words with Crystal, traitor.

For the second time in the past 15 minutes I was on the floor, what incredible skills.

I watched wearily as James got up and stumbled to one of the many tables, many sly, git-like bitches helping him (girls). When realising no prince in shining armour was about to rush to my side, I too go up, pushing all the 'precious' books to the floor and receiving glares now from the whole Library, Yes, even the portraits.

I must be the most hated person on Earth, screw Hitler, I was Lily Evans- convicted of many despised crimes, such as knocking James Potter into bookcases.

"Professor! There he is professor, that orange haired girl cursed him into the bookcase! I think she deserves at least an expulsion, Miss," Oh good. Oh great. Oh how bloody fantastic, Maria Cryer- one of the most 'typical teenage girls' you will ever meet had walked into the library, followed with my second MOST favourite person in the world, McGonagall. In case you didn't get the sarcasm, you should know that I and McGonagall don't exactly have the most loving relationship, if you get me.

Infact, it's the most unloving relationship ever, which is saying something considering McGonagall doesn't apparently hold grudges.

Whoever said that was the biggest liar known to man.

And anyways, why is it that even though I have been living in Cryer's dorm for the last 6 years that she still doesn't know my name! And when has my hair EVER been orange? My hair is nothing fruit-like. Nothing. If my hair's orange like, her hair's certainly a rotten banana which has spent one too many days out in the rain.

"Thank you, Miss Cryer; you did the right thing in immediately coming to get me, 5 points to Gryffindor as reward for your quick thinking." McGonagall gave Cryer that look reserved for only her best pupils-bitch bitch bitch. "But you, Miss Evans, you, are in deep trouble. Mr Potter, Miss Evans, please follow me to my office."

Potter gave that 'Oh-but-proffesor-the-horrible-teenage-girl-cursed-me-and-I-am-now-too-pained-too-move' look, which the girls immediately fell for, giving him hugs and all that mushy crap.

I gave him my look, which was basically the worst glare I could muster.

He glared back, unblinkingly.

"I am sorry, Mr Potter, but due to Miss Evans childish behaviour, it is urgent we discuss how this 'accident' occurred, to make sure it doesn't happen again," again, McGonagall gave me one of her looks of pure disgust, and again I returned with my equally disgust-filled looks. "Now, if you would follow me please."

Potter let out a grown of 'pain', which was merely just acting. Nevertheless, the girls sighed and continued giving me evils. Sighing, in a, 'well if I really must get this over with', sigh, he got up from the table and began to follow the professor out of the room.

I, being my utterly polite self followed, well, ok, truth is I didn't want to get in anymore trouble then I had already managed to land myself in.

On the walk to the tower, I prepared myself for the speech which would un-doubtedly lead in detention for the rest of my life. I was tempted to put a sign reading: 'Attention: My Professor- the mega bitch', on her back for future warnings to younger students who hadn't yet felt her wrath, but I resisted the urge.

We walked in silence, broken only by the portraits manic whisperings of gossip. What sad, sad lives they lead.

In McGonagall's office, she ushered us both into chairs, giving me one last look of dis-taste before speaking. "Never, never in all my days at Hogwarts have I encountered such rivalry between two members of the same house! It's preposterous, Miss Evans, Mr Potter, that two Gryffindors such as yourselves can't settle your differences. I don't want to blame anyone of you for the 'incident' which just occurred, I am sure that you both had significant roles to play." Here, the old crumbly drew in for breath before she continued.

You know, I had never noticed just how dirty my shoes looked before; then again, I had never had a whole half an hour of just looking at them, either.

"Your punishment is two months of detentions, which will involve various tasks issued by Mr. Filtch. You will serve them without question and will serve them together, do I make myself clear?" I nodded to my exceedingly dirty shoes, praying that I could just get out her office and have my thoughts to myself. I stole a quick glance at Potter, who, unlike me, wasn't staring at his shoes- which were no-where as dirty as mine, but was grinning at the professor cheekily.

"Whatever turns you on, Minnie," Potter prat said without any flicker of remorse. I was tempted then to lunge at him violently, but I controlled my will-power.

"Yes, well, be sure that you do show," McGonagall was actually BLUSHING at that git's words. Damn his charming-ness, stupid Potter. "I'd like you to see Mr. Filtch every Monday evening after dinner, starting from next week. You may be excused."

Nodding to my shoes once more, her words took about a minute to set in before I realised I was free from captivity. I basically raced into the corridor, aiming to escape to the Quidditch field, where I could have a bit of a fly around to clear my exceptionally un-clear mind.

Why do I have such bad days?

Honestly, it's just unfair; Crystal NEVER gets a bad day, whereas my whole life is basically one big, never stopping bad day just refusing to get better.

XOXOXOXOX

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Xoxoxox.