Once upon a time (it was 2011), a much younger version of myself wrote ten chapters of this story. I had bright eyes, a bushy tail and (inexplicably) a very poor grasp of the English language. Yes, I am a native English speaker.

Because I can't read my old fanfiction without making my eyes bleed, I decided to regenerate this story by re-writing all of the previous chapters and adding an additional one just for fun.

Originally posted as "Lilies and Distractions" if you want to submit yourself to that torture.

The thing about Petunia is, she's never very thoughtful. There's no doubt that she is well aware that you don't have a lot in common. It's not as if you look similar, participate in the same co-curricular activities as each other or like the same type of clothes. You certainly don't have the same taste in boys, as you think Vernon is possibly the most revolting human you've ever met and Petunia mistakenly believes that he resembles Adonis.

What irks you the most is that she doesn't try to understand the differences. It's as if she goes through life blindly pretending that you are the same. That you have the same goals, interests and dislikes. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth because Petunia loves gossip magazines and hates magic, and quite frankly you couldn't live without magic and would rather burn your eyes out than read about the Grapefruit Diet in Ladies Home Journal .

Because Petunia's birthday is during the school term, you'd thought up her present well in advance, poring over home magazines to find the perfect set of hair rollers for her flat, compliant, dirty blonde hair. You assume she appreciates them because her hair is in pristine curls when she turns up in Cokeworth for your birthday in late August, fresh out of her typewriting traineeship in London.

She turns up with a gift, in fact. A pink, leather diary.

Well, you think, as you receive it with as much polite appreciation as you can muster, you should be thankful she came at all. Last year, Petunia met Vernon and was far too busy in London pretending to typewrite but in actual fact trying to impress the most boring person on earth.

You shoot a dark look at your mum who is evidently trying to hold in laughter at the sight of Lily Evans holding something that clashes so horribly with your burnt, red hair. You usually avoid the colour pink like it carries a bad case of spattergroit but here you are, ready to spill your secrets into its fairy floss coloured pages.

You're no stranger to stationery. You have no aversion to the crisp, clean smell of paper or parchment. In fact, you can spend hours in the stationery store in town during the school holidays picking out pens and brightly coloured tabs for your revision notes. Your Gryffindor cohort think you are a bit nuts for using so much muggle stationery, but they also didn't receive an "Outstanding" on every single O.W.L, so there is clearly a case to be made for highlighters.

You own stacks of planners. Every year they're filled to the brim with revision time tables prepared at least twelve weeks in advance of exams and notes of every single class you attend. Everything is colour coded and meticulously organised. Green for potions, yellow for transfiguration, blue for charms etcetera.

You're a planner in every sense of the word. You have never, however, thought of yourself as a diary writer.

Diary writing requires self reflection and you'd rather just use your well organised planners to barge ahead into the future. You're out to make a name for yourself, and you simply don't have the time to be thinking about your feelings . Plus, in a school where everyone can do magic, you hardly think the little metal lock around the tab is going to be a useful mechanism in keeping the deepest, darkest secrets of your heart private.

You can't imagine a more tantalising prospect for Sirius Black than finding a bright pink diary while he's snooping through your things, looking for answers to homework or worse. His prank du jour is writing rude words into the margins of your homework when you're not looking so that Flitwick, when he returns another near-perfect score, does question why you chose to describe the bubble head charm as "weird as shit."

Your planning, unlike pointless diary writing, is the reason that you're currently sitting in your bedroom, running your thumb over the shiny badge that says "Head Girl." It's a satisfying moment, because although you know that academically speaking deserve it, a small part of you worried that the current anti-muggleborn climate might have caused the teachers to choose someone less controversial. It was bittersweet knowing that you could prove your worth, even if it meant you had to outperform every other student for an entire six years. You imagine life as a pureblood must be simple. No one ever questions your magic, even if you're more of a dunce than Pettigrew.

You wonder who is Head Boy. Plainly, you hope it isn't Severus given that you haven't spoken since the Levicorpus incident at the end of fifth year. You hear rumours that the Head Girl and Head Boy have to share a separate dormitory, and you just can't bear the thought of having that painful interaction brought to the surface of your memory every waking moment.

Maybe diary writing could have it's benefits, you think as you place the badge on the bedside table and pick up the pink monstrosity. It might be a good dumping ground for stuff so you can clear your mind for other things. Like a muggle form of occlumency.

You can't imagine ever bringing yourself to write what you truly think, though. The thought of anyone ever reading it is just too anxiety-inducing. Perhaps you can write in code, you think. But that involves creating a code, which is far too much effort that could be spent on more useful things.

How does one even begin a diary entry, you think, as you pick up a pen absentmindedly. You imagine it starts somewhat like a letter, but writing "Dear Diary" makes the diary sound alive, which quite evidently, it isn't. It would look odd just writing out a first sentence, too. You don't want to mess up the first page because the diary is one of those annoying book-type ones where you can't easily remove a page without it looking like you tried to give the book a haircut.

Maybe you can just make lists, you think. A list of goals would be helpful, and reflective. It would also take far less time. You'd also be far less likely to stuff it up.

You uncap the pen lid and write:

September

You sit back on the bed and think for a minute. Are you really going to spend the entire year writing lists every month? Then another thought comes to you. Who cares? Honestly, if it doesn't work out you can incendio this hot pink detritus and no one, not even Madame Pince, would give it a second thought.

Chewing the bottom of the pen you write another line on the page.

1. Create a table of prefects duties and distribute at the Hogwarts Express prefects meeting to establish authority.

To be fair, you had been thinking about the table system ever since Dumbledore made you a prefect in fifth year. It makes so much more sense, and you have no idea why your predecessors never thought it up themselves.

Remus would think of something as logical as a table, you think. You dearly hope Remus is made Head Boy but given his frequent absences, you think it unlikely.

2. Ensure Sirius Black does not disturb the peace on the Hogwarts Express.

A lofty goal, you think. Sirius Black disturbs the peace by virtue of his very existence.

3. Establish a solid study routine and commit to it.

Not a difficult goal, left to your own devices. Unfortunately, you work best early in the morning and the library isn't open at all hours of the day. Doubly unfortunately, James Potter will probably repeat his annoying habit of pretending to be a morning person too, in a desperate attempt to get your attention.

Another thought pops into your head.

4. Threaten to deduct house points from Potter on at least three occasions.

It isn't technically an abuse of power if you don't actually do it, you reason. Plus, what is the impetus of deducting points from your own house?

You wonder whether it is acceptable to deduct points for failing to do one's hair , or better yet, messing it up on purpose. Rumour is that Potter's father is the creator of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Well, their advertising isn't very good.

5. Best Potter at Transfiguration at the earliest possible opportunity.

This one would actually be quite difficult. Regrettably, Potter is actually quite skilled at Transfiguration, but you will eat a murtlap tentacle before you let him beat you at anything this year.

You add another line to the end.

And make sure he finds out about it.

Stooping to his level a little, but he deserves it.

6. Find out how Potter successfully sneaks out of the castle so much and catch him in the act.

Ok, so it would be a slight distraction from your solid study routine goal, but it would soothe your curiosity a great deal to know how he gets away with breaking five hundred school rules every year. You know he's started smoking muggle cigarettes too, because you can always smell them faintly on him and Black, but you've never managed to apprehend them.

7. Get Marlene to show you how to apply winged eyeliner without smudging it.

Another challenging task. You aren't very accomplished with make up, so you will need Marlene's full attention. Marlene also knows how to do it by magic so it's always perfectly symmetrical. You're still putting it on like a plebeian with one eye half open and perpetually on the precipice of poking yourself all the way into the retina.

Another thought comes to you.

8. Convince Marlene to reject any Hogsmeade dates that Black may ask her on, because he's a prat and then you'll have to go with Potter just to save her.

Marlene seriously agreed to put her mouth on Sirius' last year, which still alarms you. To be fair, it was on a dare during a particularly raucous post-Quidditch party, but still. Marlene tells you it's Potter, Black and Pettigrew's fault for spiking the punch, but you wouldn't know because thankfully you are always on your guard around those three.

Besides, you have a ten to nil record with Potter to uphold. You can't just start saying yes to his Hogsmeade dates now.

9. Bewitch the snitch Potter is always carrying around to ram him on the head at random intervals.

You actually laugh at this thought. Then you do a double take. You can't be pranking people as Head Girl, that's just as bad as Potter himself! Besides, you think as you briefly appraise the list, you have a lot to accomplish in one month.

Then you look at the list a bit closer and frown. It troubles you that of nine semi-achievable goals, Potter is mentioned in more than half. There are two logical explanations for this, you reason.

The first is, that James Potter is a giant prat who is so terribly irritating that half your schooling life is spent thinking about all the ways he irritates you.

The second is, that you voluntarily think about James Potter, for reasons unknown, and that his presence actually entertains you.

You pause, chewing the pen absentmindedly. It must be the former. There is just no real reason why Potter would suddenly be taking up your thought space.

It's not as if he's particularly interesting, although he is always very engaging to talk to, but that's probably because he's weirdly obsessed with you. Upon reflection, he probably knows you better than Petunia does by now, and it takes an awful lot of effort to get to that point. He could possibly have accumulated enough content to write an unauthorised Lily Evans biography.

You admit he can also be funny, on very select occasions. He is also fairly intelligent, even if he is always putting his intelligence to poor use.

He's not exactly hard to look at either, although you'd never in a million years admit it to anyone. You'd literally have to experience a personality transplant to become a James Potter admirer who actually bothers to watch him flit around on a broomstick and occasionally do something useful on the pitch.

You have to reconcile with yourself that the growth spurt between years five and six definitely did him favours. No one could objectively say that a tall, lean and muscular physique is ugly. Plus the eyelashes. It is woefully unfair that boys have nice eyelashes when they don't appreciate them. James has jet black eyelashes that are ridiculously long and have that natural curl that-

Christ. Since when was an area of your brain reserved for remembering what James-bloody-Potter's eyelashes look like? That information needs to be dumped, pronto. There are far more important things to be remembered. Like what charms you have to perfect to get a world record Charms NEWT. Rumour has it that Defence Against the Dark Arts is introducing the Patronus Charm this year in response to the alarming news that the Ministry has lost control of a few dozen dementors. That should be interesting.

No doubt you will be able to produce one, at some point. Charms is your best subject, and a Patronus Charm is a charm of sorts. You wonder what form it will take. You wonder what form Potter's will take. You hope it's something useless, like a sloth. Knowing your luck he'll probably manage to produce a lion and call himself the "Heir of Gryffindor" for the rest of the year.

Upon reflection, this diary writing has done nothing but make you reflect on Potter. The last thing you want to be doing in the dying days of your summer holidays is thinking about the person who will haunt you at every opportunity while you're at Hogwarts, Head Girl or not.

You throw the pink monstrosity and pen to the side and stretch your legs, thinking about wandering down to the local corner store for ice cream. With any luck, you'll forget all about your strange James Potter monologue by the time you get back.

The trouble is, you don't.