Hey all! Okay, I'd like to make an apology to Paige Halliwell-Matthews, and anyone else who didn't know who Lila's mum was. How I typed that was really rude, and I've been raised better than that. I have no excuse for my behavior. I hope you will forgive me and continue reading my stories. I will attempt to be less of a jerk. Kay-kay? Here it is! Enjoy!

August 10th, 2014

At a café whose name I can't recall (or spell)

Dear Diary,

Bonjour!

And no, I'm not faking; I truly am happy!

Why, you ask? Because, I'm here with Heath!

Oh, he's so brill! He's into a ton of things I am, like Creed and Evanescence and the outlawing of SPORKS.

And he's just so easy to talk to. I didn't even mind him asking about my birthmark. Of course, I couldn't tell him the exact truth, but I got as close as I could. Something about my father getting scratched on the head by a bull when he was bull fighting, and it forming something in his genetic makeup, or… um… something.

Anyway, he loved hearing about my family and all the crazy stories, which turned out somewhat less crazy, as I had to edit out the magic.

Being friends with Muggles is complicated.

Anyways, I have lately taken to hanging out with Heath whenever I see Marshall and Theresa together. After gagging for seven billion years, I go to his room. I have sadly memorized the exact amount of steps it takes to get to his room from mine, and from the lobby, and from my parents' room. It's 124, 336, and 122. I think. Or maybe it's 122, 339, and 125...

Or maybe I am way off because of my astounding case of brain malfunction-ness that I have recently started getting every time I'm around Heath. And when I look into his deep blue eyes, I completely space out. Like yesterday when he was talking about how he hated football and rugby, I said something to the effect of, "Yeah, they're good, they're just a little runny." I was, at the time, eating breakfast in this dining place, and I thought he was asking me how my eggs were.

I usually do not have room in my brain for thoughts of Marshall when I'm with Heath, which is odd as I always have room for Marshall.

Diary, I think something is terribly wrong with me.

I have been feeling lately the way that I used to feel about Marshall, about Heath. Did that make sense? Oh burgundy, hardly anything makes sense anymore. (Yes, I said burgundy, Heath told me it was his fave color, and I thought it sounded interesting)

Oh, must go. Heath has returned from the loo, and I don't want him to see me writing and think I'm weird or something. Because I'm not. Much.

August 10th, 2014

In room listening to Theresa rave about 'Marshy'

Dear Diary,

Theresa must DIE! On and on, she blathers on, until I want to STRANGLE her!

Maybe poison is better. Less easy to pin on me.

Would Josh poison his sister? Probably not.

You know, I could try telling her the truth. Except, I don't know if it's true anymore. I'm not sure how I feel about 'Marshy.'

Maybe my stupid brain will let me know soon.

Oh for the love of Jamie's trousers. Now she's repeating word-for-word their conversation about Dumbledore's love of socks.

"And then he said…" "And I agreed…" "Then he laughed and said…"

She did not!

She totally just told me that I write too much, and I should 'put that dumb book away and tell her what I think of Marshy's hair.'

I wonder if they send 15-year-olds to jail for maiming their best friends.

Think I'll look that up.

August 11th, 2014

Hunting down my brother, am determined to thank him for sending Heath to me

Dear Diary,

I have been prowling the halls of the hotel looking for my idiot brother for the past half hour. Just when I have something to say to him that isn't insulting, he goes and disappears on me.

Typical.

Oh good grief. I have come upon a most disgusting sight: Jamie is snogging some poor girl senseless. I guess it's time again to make him want to kill me.

SPLEE! Am running away from my brother! He is very fast! Curse his Quidditch training!

August 11th, 2014

Hiding from insane twin in utility closet

Dear Diary,

Okay, I have some time to write down what I did.

I went around the corner and shouted, "James Christopher Potter, how many times must I tell you not to leave your dirty boxers in my room? Once more, and I might just have to tell this lovely girl about when you peed your pants because I pretended to be a werewolf!" That's when he yelled, "Lila!" and grabbed for my hair.

I shot off down the hall, through some corridors, and found this rather small closet.

For the love of Heath Derrick Dalen, what's taking Loverboy so dang long to find me?

Apparently nothing. He has found me and is pounding on the door and shouting quite loudly.

"Lila! I can hear your quill scratching! Stop writing in your stupid diary and get your bleeding arse out here! Now!"

How rude of him to call you stupid. Shall have to hit him.

August 11th, 2014

In room, am pissed at Jamie

Dear Diary,

To make it short, I came out of the closet swinging you at Jamie's head and made some good contact before running to my room. After he seemed to cool off a tad, I let him in and told him why I was looking for him.

Jamie: Who's Heath?

Me: The American chap you sent to my room a few days ago.

Jamie: I haven't met any Americans since we've been here. Except Andrea, but I don't expect her to ever speak to me again because SOMEBODY just HAD to barge in while we were-

Me: Oh, bloody hell! I don't even want to think about what you were doing!

Jamie: Whatever. All I know is I've never met anyone named Heath. Did he tell you I sent him to you?

Me: Yeah, but maybe he made a mistake.

Jamie: And maybe you should stay away from him.

Me: Why?

Jamie: Because he lied to you. I mean, how well do you know this guy?

Me: What are you babbling about? I know him better than I know myself.

Jamie: How can you be so sure?

Me: What are you saying?

Jamie: I'm saying you should stay away from him so Dad and I can trail him for a bit. If he's all right, then you can see him again. Okay?

Me: You are unbelievable! Do you really think you have the right to tell me who I can and cannot see?

Jamie: Lila, this is for your own good.

Me: (I stand and back away) No, Jamie. Don't you do that to me. Do not talk to me like you're my bloody father- (he interrupts, we yell the next two at the same time)

Jamie: I'm your brother!

Me: Because you're not!

(Silence, we stand a few feet apart, glaring and breathing heavily)

Me: Get out.

Jamie: Lila-

Me: Get out. I don't want to see you right now. (After a moment he turns to leave. Then I say, in a moment of stupidity) You know, you should be happy. At least I'm no longer crushing on your best friend.

Jamie: (turns back and stares at me) You mean…

(I look away)

Me: Never mind. Just go. And don't bother coming back until you can support me. (again, he turns to leave and I speak up) If you could be at least courteous enough to not mention that to Marshall and Theresa, I might forgive your betrayal a bit sooner.

Jamie: (finally leaves, muttering, "Betrayal, tuh!" scornfully under his breath)

I CAN'T BELIEVE HIM! He's so arrogant, and stupid, and BUDDHA, he's such a MAN! It's just so typical, they all think they're ALWAYS right and we women can't possibly EVER be right! I'll show him. I will! Heath is the best person I've ever known! Even better than Marshall Malfoy!

I don't need my stupid brother, or my father. I can take care of myself. To hell with all of them.

I should tell you that if I finish chappy 5 while I'm still here in the public library, I will probably post it. But PLEASE don't be sad if I don't!