I'm working on making longer, quicker updates. We'll see how it goes.

If you like Grey's Anatomy, I've been working on some fanfics that you should check out.

Dear Lily,

Happy Halloween. The Great Hall really looked spectacular tonight, didn't it? I have to admit, as cruel as it seems, watching Alice Horowitz – you know, the Hufflepuff going out with Frank Longbottom (he was a year above us) – scream as the bats came flying through. Funny how they've never used them before; seems fairly logical to me. Hagrid's pumpkins were really lovely, too. After the feast, Remus, Sirius, Peter, and I all climbed into one and enchanted it to float around as we sang Christmas carols at the tops of our voices. Oh, you should have seen old Snivelly's – I mean, the foul, vile, loathsome and evil Slytherin's – face. Bloody hell was that a sight.

I must admit, however, the highlight of my day had to be when Slughorn sat us at the same table today in Potions. Not only that, but it gets better – you were actually civil. You even let me use some of your armadillo bile because I ran out (or at least that's what I told you). I was amazed.

I believe that we have made tremendous progress since our little spat in the Astronomy Tower, dear. Although I'd still like to know what you were so upset about that you were willing to break curfew and go out of bounds just to get a bit of crying done. I wonder if it had something to do with Wilkes – you two have seemed to be a bit distant lately. Or at least you've been distant with him.

For instance, at dinner today he kept trying to make jokes (or at least that's what I think he was doing)… either way, you didn't seem amused. You were stabbing your steak with your fork, and when he tried to wrap his arm around you, you sort of shrugged him off. Eventually you said that you were full and were going to go upstairs and sleep – you told him you'd had a "long day".

When you got up, you'd barely touched your food. I would know – I was sitting three seats away, facing you.

If things don't work out between you two, I will be sorry. Not because you broke up, but because he hurt you (if, indeed, he does). And then I'll find him in the changing room and beat him to a bloody pulp, but that's beside the point.

The point is I'm concerned about you. And I think that you're digging your own grave here, because I don't think Wilkes is your type. I'm just beginning to worry that maybe I'm not your type either. Of course, you'd say I wasn't, so I wouldn't bother with asking you – you see, you haven't seen my newly formed mature side yet. I think you'd like this version of James Potter, but maybe I'm wrong, and, if I am… well, let's just say that the only plans I've made for life after Hogwarts involve you and James Juniors.

You know, I'd be happy to be your friend. Not forever, because, eventually, that would stop being enough and I'd want more – I know that about myself and I can admit that – but for a little while. And if you told me something, anything, any tiny moment from your day or little secret, I swear to Merlin that I wouldn't tell a soul. That's what you're afraid of, I know it. You think you can't trust me, that I'll tell all of your thoughts and secrets to Sirius or Remus or the whole of Gryffindor, but I won't. I wouldn't.

You're not the only one who's seemed a bit off lately. At our last practice, Wilkes came storming into the changing room in a huff and when any of us tried to ask him what was wrong, he just snapped at us to stay out of it.

I just hope he's treating you with all the respect you deserve. And I hope that you find something or some comfort that makes you happy – really, truly happy, as in not settling and not feeling as though you have to run up to the Astronomy Tower and cry because it's all too much.

And, if I were your friend, I could be that comfort.

I'm not an idiot, Lily. I know that I might go through the effort of writing you a letter every day only to have you take one look at these and chuck them in the bin, or that you might read them and laugh at me. I understand this and I'm ready for it, if that's how it happens. I hope that you can believe me that I'm being honest here, but, just in case, I've been bracing myself for your rejection.

I can handle it. Because even if you're rejecting me at that point, at least you'll know by the gigantic stack of letters that I was serious about you all along, even when you doubted me.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that you were nice to me today, so… thank you for that.

Happy Halloween, Lily.

—James