A/N: February has arrived for Lily, James, and the rest of the gang! Things start to happen though it's a short month. Lol. This chapter is quite distressing to Lily and it's more conversational than anything – it's her talking to her diary, really. She needs to say these things, but she doesn't know who to tell, so she chose her journal. Some of the things she says won't make any sense at all, but she knows that – she acknowledges it. xD But I hope you like the chapter and will review!

And for those of you who are starting to freak out because of Lily's bad habits, never fret – I love Lily far too much to torture her for a long time. James will come and catch her in Chapter 35, I promise. :)

Lily

February 4th

Dear Diary,

You'd better be ready for contradictions, diary, because today, I'm full of them.

Who are they about, you may ask? Well, if you don't know, I'm disappointed. It is, of course, James Bloody Potter that I absolutely hate right now. Maybe I liked him a tiny, itsy bitsy amount before, but now, that's not true. Now, if he tries to do something "nice" for me, I'm going to turn around and walk the other way. I don't want to have to put up with his shit anymore, because it's just not worth it.

Yeah, I am pretty annoyed. Why? Because people think that I'm in love with James. I hadn't known that this was the public opinion until today, when Leila brought the conversation up this afternoon at lunch, but I just can't believe it. I have made it my life's work since I was eleven to establish that I want nothing to do with those boys, and now here was this idea that I was in love with James. I was not! I doubt that I ever will be! We are just two people – one that is smart, one that is an idiot (go figure which is which) and they are forced to communicate with one another because they had the misfortune to go to the same school. That doesn't mean we're together.

"So Lil…the current thoughts are that you are in love with James," Leila had said, obviously trying to sound offhand. "What do you say to that?"

"I say that whoever thinks that could use a good old smack upside the head," I said viciously, stabbing the table with my fork. "Why?"

"Because that's what people think right now," she said. "I heard some Gryffindors talking about it the other day. I said that I was your best friend, and I knew that you didn't, but I'm not sure."

I exhaled roughly, more upset than I could tell her. "Really? You honestly think that I love him?"

"Yes, even though I didn't tell those girls," she said simply. "You guys are a cute couple. I'm not the only one who's noticed."

I bit my lip so hard that it was perilously close to bleeding. "I hate him. We're not right for each other."

"You look together, is what I'm trying to say," Leila said. "And your personalities fit together. Lils, you're going to fall so hopelessly in love with him one day that you're going to wonder why you ever tried denying it; just give up."

I shook my head. "I don't love him. And how are our personalities fitting? He's stupid, I'm not. I'm a bitch, he's not. He's a jock, I'm an academic person. I like to read and he likes to run. His hair is always messy, and mine always lies straight. How do those go together at all?"

"Well, when he's being stupid, you can help him out – balance it," she said. "When you're being a bitch, he can calm you down. You can cheer him on during Quidditch games, and he can sit with you while you read. You can straighten his hair out, and he can mess yours up."

"That makes no sense – he's everything I'm not," I said. "I couldn't stand that. I want someone who shares my interests."

"James would share your interests – he would share just about anything with you," said Leila. "And if he's everything you're not, he'll complete the missing parts of you. He's made for you, Lily."

I couldn't argue with her logic, so I settled for a pout on my face and another bite on my lip. "I hate this," I grumbled.

"Face the facts, sweetie," Leila said with a sigh. "You're in love."

"I'm not," I said, my tone short and dark. "I don't love him."

"But when you do, will you tell me?" she asked.

"I might," I said. "It depends on how much you bug me about loving him when I don't."

Leila snorted, but smiled at me. "If I don't push you, Lily, you will never go for what you want. That's just how you are; you need little shoves to keep you in the right direction, otherwise you'll just run away."

"And what's wrong with running away?" I asked.

"Lily, how will you ever get what you want if you run away from it?" she asked me gently, patting my hair.

"I don't want him," I said abruptly after a moment of dwelling on what she had told me, standing up. "I'm sorry, Leils; I'm going upstairs for the rest of the lunch period."

"Fine." She withdrew her hand. "See you in class."

She knew that she had said something that had miffed me, which was why I was able to get away so easily, but that didn't stop me from pondering what she had said. Leila had scared me, quite honestly, when she told me how compatible I was with James. I had never thought of it the way she said it – him hyping me up, me calming him down. It did work irresistibly well when she put it that way, but at the same time, I could never think of it that way when I was actually in the situation. James Potter was the most vexing person on the face of the planet, and I couldn't believe I might love him.

I settled into my bed, curling up and hugging my knees. I had to think; I had to concentrate. James Potter. What came to mind first when I thought of James Potter?

That was easy – his smile.

He had a sweet smile. His mouth was a lovely thing; it was big, and almost always open, but I secretly liked it. His lips were full and healthy, and when he had them in his usual grin, he was almost childlike in the most mature way I had ever encountered. Contradictory? Yes, it is, but I do remember warning you that I would be contradictory today. Just let me say what I want to say, and maybe this'll all make sense.

So yes, his mouth. I think of his mouth first. Established. But what next?

That was easy too – his eyes were the next thing I thought about.

James had incredible eyes; I hate him, but he has incredible eyes. They're a mellow sort of hazel, with pretty little flecks in them – I know that from the many times he's been in my face. They're quite expressive; I could know what he was thinking just by looking at his eyes. I love his eyes but his personality still needs some work.

Okay, think, relax, and breathe. What else about James do I think about?

His hair.

Yeah, that's kind of lame, but his hair is of a great interest to me. It's blacker than darkness, and it looks thick and soft. I've never touched it, but I find myself wanting to. It's so messy – I want to run my fingers through it and straighten it out. Maybe while I'm at it, I can think about how wonderful it feels. Yes, I think that sounds right – just fix his hair while really adoring the texture.

Oh damn it, what is wrong with me? I'm not supposed to want to touch his bloody hair! I'm not supposed to want to think about his eyes or his smile or his mouth! I'm supposed to think about my work, and about the things that are important to me! At this point, I was close to tears for some reason, and I put my face in my pillows. I was alone, and I was confused – it was okay to cry. I could be strong later; for that particular moment, I just wanted to cry.

I just don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what I really want anymore. I know that one of the things I want is the truth, but I'm afraid of what I'll find. I also want to know what I actually think. It's a weird thing to want because you should probably know what's going on in your own head, yeah, I'm aware of that, but my head is not a normal place. My head is full of chaotic pandemonium, and somehow, I have to sift through it to find individual thoughts. In all my bedlam, I don't know anything anymore. That's why I want to know what I think – maybe what I think will be important. Unfortunately, I can't be sure, because nothing makes sense and the agony of it all makes me want to revert back to my old ways – crying and throwing things around. I'm not going to do that again, but I'm tempted.

I got up off the bed and began to pace; I couldn't be still. I thought about what had happened the last time I had felt this way, in a pathetic attempt to figure out what was going on in my head, and what I arrived at made me stop short. The last time I had felt like this was when I had been in love with Remus.

I was not in love with James. I was not, I could not be, I refused to be. No, out of the question. Not now. Not here. Not James. It couldn't be; it just couldn't be. It was as simple as that.

Now, purely for hypothetical purposes, I'm going to examine why, if I was in love with James (which I'm NOT!), why we couldn't be together.

He was a jerk. I didn't hang around with jerks, no matter what. End of story.

He was a jock. Jocks don't hang around with academic-type people like me.

I had a reputation to protect; if I'm supposed to hate the Marauders, I can not fall in love with and consequently hang around with one of them.

I wasn't even that desirable – I had a lot of weight still to lose, and I was a bitch a lot of the time. No one wants to hang around with a fat bitch.

The last time I had fallen in love and admitted it, the boy said no. The last time I tried to trust someone, I ended up in a room with a guy on top of me trying to get into my shirt. Nope; past experience tells me to stay clear of guys, no matter how you feel – they will break your heart. Guaranteed.

I was stubborn. I would try to get my way all the time, and he would get tired of me, which would lead to him leaving me. Not good.

I'm quite boring, as Kyleigh has told me on many an occasion – going along with number six, he would get tired of me and leave me. If I let my guard down and let him take the best of me, I couldn't bear that.

His second in command hated me, I had had a bit of a brush with his third in command, and I hated his fourth in command. My best friend had a crush on James as well; even though she would graciously move aside to let me have him, I would have her on my conscience. Not a good start.

Those are some really, really good reasons to not be with James, even if I did love him, which I didn't. So, as you can see, we are just not meant to be. End of story. Good bye. Finished. Nothing else. No sequels, no prequels, no fairytale ending – just done. So why did that bother me so much?

I was near tears again because I was so inexplicably unhappy with my conclusion. I had ended any thoughts of James I might have had, but that was distressing me. Why in the name of Merlin was that distressing me? It should make me happy. It should have me dancing around the room saying, "Yes! I was right!" But it wasn't; it was eating me up inside. Some part of me just wouldn't accept what I was trying to set down for myself. You knew that there was something wrong with you if you could feel yourself arguing with your own wishes.

You know, when I felt like this at home, I would sit with my mother in the backyard, where we had this big swing. She would sit with me, and I would lie down with my head on her lap. She would stroke my hair, I would cry hysterically, half of the things I tried to tell her not making any sense at all, and she would just listen. After a few minutes, I would calm down and we would have a rational conversation. Then we would go inside, and my mum would give me lemonade to sip on. I would ask to go back outside, and we did; I drank my lemonade, and she rubbed my back. I felt like a baby, but I was hurt; I wanted my mother. When everything came down to it, she was my mother – my center, my sanctuary, my superhero when I needed her – and I would need her forever, no matter what anyone said. I wanted my mother then, in my too-small dormitory, to sit with me and tell me things would get better in the morning. Any old person could tell me that whenever they wanted, but it was only when my mother said it that I believed it.

I may be a sixteen, nearly of adult age, but that didn't mean that I didn't need my mother.

I was cuddled into bed when the bell to go to the next class rang. I ignored it; I wasn't going anywhere. I was in no condition to go to class. Leila would never understand why when she came back to question me, but it didn't matter; I wanted to be in my room. I hugged my pillow tightly, as though it would somehow make everything better, and I wished that I could find peace. I didn't want whatever I was feeling; I wanted the serenity of my backyard, and I wanted my mother. If I had those two things, I would be all right.

As I write these lines, the day is almost over. The sun is setting, and the atmosphere looks heavy; I think it'll rain. I like rain – it's cleansing – so I'm glad. James won't be; James lives to play Quidditch, and Quidditch cannot be played in the rain. I will sit in the common room and I will watch the rain when it starts, and I will think about this more while craving simplicity and innocence. I will sneak down to the kitchens, and I will ask for a glass of lemonade, which I will drink while watching the rain. Maybe Leila will join me; I don't know. But if she does, we will be silent. Silence is something I could use some more of.

More silence and less James Potter would probably do me a world of good. Too bad I can't have either.

James

February 4th

Dear Diary,

Since Remus feels that I've been neglecting my diary (which I haven't), I'm stuck writing again, and this time, I don't even know what to write about.

Joyous, isn't it?

It is.

But anyhow, I suppose I can write a little bit about the latest rumor in the rumor mill – me and Lily. Since her birthday, people have begun to think about us as a couple. Lily, of course, is not at all happy about that, but I'm all right. It doesn't bother me at all, which is why I have nothing to say.

But see, that's the thing – people have always known that I love Lily Evans more than is healthy at my age, and with that, they have also known that Lily Evans hates me more than is healthy. It's always been an amusing sort of soap opera – the lovesick boy trying to win over his golden lady's heart through the slightly-too-unfortunate circumstances. Those are interesting, and they always work out – that's the main difference between the relationship Lily and I have. For five long years, we have had no breakthrough; Lily has never done anything to say that we're in love. Soap operas have mercy on your nerves and give you a breakthrough once in a while. But, as I said, Lily doesn't cut me a break. She's rather cruel that way, but I still love her anyway. Rational, aren't I? It's refreshing, I know.

I don't know what to make of it all. The way I've heard our case stated sometimes, Lily does love me to the ends of the earth. I wish I could believe she did. I have been known to trick myself into trusting the notion. I don't do that anymore though – it just makes things hurt more when she slaps me across the face (figuratively, of course) but when I put myself in that delusion, I feel like I'm in a utopia. After all, a world is only ever perfect to me if Lily Evans is a dominant part of it, since she quite literally is my world. It's crazy, but it's true – that's simply how things are with me.

Sirius thinks it's funny that we're rumored to be in love, but he's one of few who think that way – most are intrigued, curious, and/or ravenous for gossip. He says that having us get together would be like putting him, Sirius, into a learning camp – it was simply impossible and laughable if it happened. I objected strongly to it, especially when he said that I would be him, and Lily would be the boring camp; I knew from experience that Lily Evans was anything but boring.

Remus thought differently, of course; Remus felt that we should stay out of her business. He said that if Lily liked me, it was fine, but we shouldn't try to influence the decision – Lily could only ever fall for me if I left her alone to think about it. He also said it was rude to constantly gossip about her private, tender thoughts. To that, Sirius blew a loud raspberry and continued to speculate the possibilities. I was very amused, of course; my friends were so opposite, I often wondered how we all got along without exploding.

Peter…Peter had little opinion. He was least interested in the ways of Lily Evans, and if I asked him what he thought about her loving me, he said, "If it works, great. If not, whatever." I kept asking, and eventually he said, "James, if she makes you happy, then go for her. If she doesn't want you, then don't bother her – she's not right for you."

Peter isn't bright at all, but he had a point – if she didn't like me, she probably wasn't right. But at the same time, she might secretly like me, which brought us back to square one.

Lovely. Absolutely lovely.

But, for now, everything is in its early stages; I'll write about anything else that comes up later, but I have a feeling it won't; people won't care unless there's a witness to a snogging. I don't care about any of that though – at the moment, Sirius and I have a bit of filching to do in the kitchen, since we're hungry and need something to do that isn't homework. Remus also reckons that we have a full moon coming – we have planning that has to be done.

So…I guess I'm done then – yup, I am. Remus will be satisfied with my progress, and that's all that's keeping me writing. I'll document anything else worth mentioning later.

A/N: I had NOTHING to say about James. I thought about it for a lot longer than you would know, but I couldn't make him care about the rumors. He just doesn't get annoyed by that sort of stuff, so I guess that's another contrast between James and Lily that is kind of fun to see, but other than that, I'm done too. James will have more to say next time – promise! So yeah…review please. :P