(Oh. For those of you who are interested, there really was a guy in my Primary school called "Justin Case". Insufferable little pillock he was too. And, I assume, still is even if I haven't seen him in ages. Anyway, for seven years I was the only person who found his name funny. No one else understood why. Typical really.)

And no, Harry Potter still isn't mine. For the record.

Quidditch Journal
Entry 6
July 18th

Dear Thing,

EVANS WROTE TO ME! EVANS WROTE TO ME! EVANS WROTE TO ME!

Oh yeah, so did everyone else. But the point is EVANS WROTE TO ME! Granted she did it at wand-point but I choose not to focus on that particular nuance of the situation and rather focus on the fact that she did, in fact, write to me. Did I mention that she wrote to me? Because I think that should be made clear. Evans, as in Lily Marie Evans, born on the thirty-first of August and aged sixteen at the time of writing, wrote to me.

Ah Lily Evans. Lovely girl.

Wants me dead, but she's still lovely. And gorgeous, intelligent, witty, talented, kind, happy, gorgeous… I'm repeating myself. Oh well. She is gorgeous though. Big green eyes, long red hair, creamy skin, a glare that could kill a man at ten paces. Perfection. And she's really good at insulting people too, or at least at insulting me. She signed her letter "Quite emphatically not yours, Lily Evans" which cheered me up to no end.

She loathes and detests me you see. Always has and probably always will but I don't care because I adore her. How could anyone do anything but adore her? Anyway, she's extremely stubborn about refusing to go out with me. I've also sort of come to the conclusion that me asking her on an hourly basis won't change that fact, so I haven't asked her out since Christmas. A huge feat for yours truly, requiring such phenomenal levels of self-restraint that it almost killed me. After all, it's Lily Evans.

First time I met her was on the Hogwarts Express. She was shorter than everyone else (and probably still is) because she'd only turned eleven the previous day. Dumbledore apparently gave her a choice between starting that year or the next but she chose that year because she wanted to learn as much magic as possible as soon as possible. She'd already learned half the syllabus by the time she got on the train because she was so interested.

Ah Evans. Never get tired of that girl. She cursed Bellatrix Black you know. She was in seventh year, Evans was in first year and she called her a "Mudblood". Evans said she didn't know what it meant but that "she didn't particularly like being called it by an inbred lunatic". So she made her grow thick purple fur everywhere. Deeply amusing. Our dear Bellatrix had to miss three days of classes for that and people were calling her the Lilac Hairball for months.

Evans, Evans, Evans. She's got a good name too. "Lily Evans", who doesn't love lilies hmm? Well I never used to. But I do now. So terribly wise of her parents to name her after something of great beauty. Pity about her sister though. But then I only met her sister once. Daft bint.

She was "escorting" Lily to Diagon Alley for her school supplies. So far as I could tell that meant glaring at everyone and calling them freaks of nature while repeatedly telling Lily that it wasn't "too late to enrol in a proper school and live life like a normal person". Apparently Sirius's comment about what a great loss that would be to Wizarding kind didn't go down well with her. I think her name was Petal or something, sticking with the flower theme. No, wait… It was… Think James, think!

PETUNIA! That was it. Petunia Evans. Horse faced cow. Quite plainly doesn't deserve to have a sister as wonderful as Evans. She's actually quite an aberration anyway. Nobody related to Lily Evans could be that unattractive without some severe genetic flaws and nobody related to Lily Evans could be that close-minded without a few serious brainwashing sessions. Apparently Sirius threatened to turn her into a gecko. Too good for her in my opinion but it doesn't matter.

The point is that Evans wrote to me. And now I have to write back. And I don't know what to say.

What is there to say? "Yeah hello Lily, just to say that I'm really very pleased my best friend threatened you and your family because it means I get to communicate with you." I don't see that making her like me much more, do you?

It's about midnight you realise. I've just been staying up re-reading that letter of hers. Which smells just like her by the way. Ginger with lime and brown sugar. I have no earthly idea how she ends up smelling like that because none of the taps, not even in the prefects bathroom, give out anything smelling of ginger, lime OR brown sugar, but she does and it's delectable. And her hair, I haven't spoken about that yet have I?

Her hair, it's brilliant. It's fire engine red, reaches down past her shoulders and falls in these beautiful waves… Sirius was right. I do practically stalk the girl. I should stop that, really. Not so much for my mental well-being (I'm perfectly happy to obsess over Lily Evans till my dying day thank you very much), but rather her emotional well-being. I fear she may lose her mind and attack me soon. Which I wouldn't mind to be honest. I can think of worse ways to go than having Lily Evans go mental and rip me to shreds…

But I still have to write something to her. It's only polite. So what do I write?

Hmmm. This'll take a lot of thought. I'll probably stay up half night thinking about this you realise. I always end up over-thinking things when it comes to Lily Evans. Which is stupid really because no matter what I do I'll come across as an arrogant prat but hey, a bloke's got to try doesn't he?

Well, if my time studying to become Prongs has taught me anything it's that you can't pore over notes without tea. And if my time being Remus Lupin's best mate has taught me anything, it's how to produce tea and chocolate seemingly from nowhere.

I wonder if I'll actually be sleeping at all tonight?

- - -

Harry smirked. The great James Potter, it seemed, could quite easily be reduced to a gibbering wreck by nothing more than the scent of Lily Evans. That was, to him, terribly amusing. As was his father's rather apt description of Aunt Petunia.

He wondered how long it would take for James to actually do something right so that Lily would notice him as something other than a cocky git. Actually he wondered if that hadn't already occurred since, to him at least, nothing in Lily's letter spoke of any particular feelings of animosity. It spoke more of a habitual sort of contempt.

He was also oddly pleased that his mother had cursed Bellatrix Lestrange (nee, Black) at the age of eleven. It didn't begin to cover the multitude of offences Lestrange had caused him, but it made him feel a little better.

Turning the page slowly, Harry silently made a bet with himself about whether James would be able to go a whole hundred words without mentioning the name Lily Evans. Harry was betting he wouldn't manage it, but even he was surprised at just how right he was.

- - -

Quidditch Journal
Entry 7
July 19th

Dear Thing,
Lily Evans is impossible to write to. I was up half the night and I still couldn't come up with anything. Then Iggy woke me up at four AM because he had to go to the bathroom and was scared to go alone.

Normally I'd be angry at such levels of nervousness in a kid his age but apparently Justin Case has decided to start getting up early in the morning and hiding out in the bathrooms. He then pounces on anyone who goes in and stuffs a dungbomb, or something equally unpleasant, down their trousers. Quite clearly a desperate cry for attention either from his parents or from the counsellors, I'm sure you'll agree.

Well the little berk will certainly be getting attention now. I charmed his forehead to read the words 'Spoilt Brat' in big flashing letters. Seth Jefferson says that this was an extreme response but "no doubt my fierce loyalty to my charges impaired my judgement and so I cannot be held accountable". I wasn't in the mood to argue with him on that particular point, so I kept my mouth shut.

I'm also Iggy's hero. Which is sort of fun, I admit. I'm trying to convince him of my spectacular medicinal knowledge so that in a few days, when I spring mum's potion on him, he'll actually consider taking it rather than throwing it back at me and accusing me of trying to poison him. Which is, if I'm honest, what I'd do in his position. But then, I've been accused of being paranoid.

In other news, Albert is starting to calm down. And by calm down I mean he's no longer jumping six feet in the air at loud noises but is still highly strung. Very highly strung. I keep getting the urge to stick a warning sign around his neck. Something like "Caution: addition of caffeine will result in instant paroxysm."

Ping is actually getting healthier I've noticed. Not by much I'll grant you but he can participate in class for a bit longer than he could when he first got here. I've also started using mum's suggestion about sneakily making him exercise and he doesn't seem to have noticed yet.

And then there's Sofia. The girl is impossible. I still quite like her though, it has to be said. When Justin Case was screaming threats at me ("My father's going to get you for this!" "Just you wait!" "I'll see you're locked up for this you big jerk!"… What does that even mean? 'You sir! You are a large jolt!' What the hell? I don#t understand American insults), Sofia rolled her eyes impatiently and stood with her hands on her hips glaring at him. He finally cottoned on and yelled at her "And what the hell are you looking at Morticia?" Her only response was to sigh, shake her head and storm past him being sure to kick his feet out from under him as she went. He landed on his arse.

It was brilliant. But when Albert commented on it later she just scowled at him and then refused to look up from her book for the rest of the morning. She's on a new book by the way. This one's called 'Cliodna, the Forgotten Healer'. The grand sum of my knowledge on Cliodna comes from Chocolate Frog cards so I can't really comment.

I think our Albert has a bit of a crush on her. Maybe it's the fact that while he's bouncing off the walls, she's hardly deigned to blink so far. Opposites attract and all that. I got a bit of life out of her last night though, with Remus's ghost stories.

There was some claptrap about a Headless Horseman that would have made Nick go nuts. Apparently she found it amusing. She smirked slightly. When I told her about Nearly Headless Nick she could have, I swear, giggled under her breath. I'd call that progress wouldn't you?

In other news, I killed Amy the Nutcase… tomorrow. She's driving me bonkers. So is McLaggen but he was preoccupied today with Justin Case (who is in his cabin) and so he isn't bothering me as much.

I took Sirius's advice and told Amy how terribly in love I am with Lily Evans. She said that Lily clearly wasn't the girl for me and that I needed to start dating as soon as possible to get over her. Can't the girl take a hint?

It's getting late. I need to go to dinner. Tonight's special is Cornish Pasties… Made with real corn apparently. I think someone rather misunderstood what a Cornish pasty was, don't you?

- - -

Harry snorted. It was, he had to admit, fairly amusing to see James complaining about being stalked after his little ode to Lily Evans. Even more so since James didn't seem to notice the irony.

It was also quite startling to see how fiercely loyal and protective the man was without even realising it. Not to mention how involved he was with the children he was taking care of. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how different his life would have been if his mother and father had survived. After all, any girl deserving of that much adoration from Sirius and Lupin, that much garbled rambling from James Potter and that much outright hatred from Petunia Dursley struck Harry as being pretty cool.

And speaking of hatred from Petunia Dursley…

"I hope you realise that just because your writing to those freaks of yours doesn't mean that you get excused from everything around here mister! You'd better get down here and peel these potatoes for dinner for one thing. If you're eating in this house then you'd better contribute!" came his Aunt's shrill voice.

Harry, who had spent the first ten years of his life peeling mountains of potatoes on an almost daily basis, didn't really mind having to do as his Aunt asked. What he did mind was the fact that the entry he'd just been about to start read as follows:

Quidditch Journal
Entry 8
July 20th

Dear thing,

I AM GOING TO KILL DUANE MCLAGGEN!

Harry sighed. "Coming Aunt Petunia." he called. He got to his feet and trundled out the room, trying not to wonder what was in the next entry…