27th December – Not even a holiday. Blah.

10.30am My own mother just forced me out of my lovely (and warm) bed in a most unceremonious fashion. According to her logic, if I can wake up at 5.30 on Christmas Day, I should have the decency to wake up before noon the rest of the year.

I tried to explain the concept of 'looking forward to presents' to no avail. I even went to far as to suggest that she might purchase me a present each day in order to make the concept of waking up as appealing as it was on Christmas Day. This idea suffered the same fate as most of my genius plans. Being so gifted can be a very punishing fate. (Harr! Gifted! Punny!) (Note to Lily from Lily: Kill yourself)

Anyway. Now that I am awake I have to face the daunting task of writing Potter a very official letter about all the important Head Girl things I can't remember… so that I can honestly tell Dumbledore that I wrote him. Though maybe it would be better if I wrote him at midnight the day before we go back so that he hasn't got a chance to reply and I can make lots of tutting sounds and tell Dumbledore that Potter failed to correspond with me over the break. And that he should be replaced. With a gorgeous male model slash musician slash intellectual. Ingenious.

11.46am Oh my god. What if he writes me first? That would be unacceptable. To the max. I will write out a rough draft here.

Dear James Potter, (Scratch the 'Dear') (Also, the 'James')

We have lots of important things to discuss. About our duties. Something about prefect schedules? I'm pretty sure I ranted to you at the end of the term and you took notes? Please, please, PLEASE tell me you still have those notes.

I mean, I remember everything of course. Because I have lots of brilliant mental abilities (one of which is remember things very well). I just wanted to make sure that you remembered everything because otherwise you might not have known what we were meant to be working on over the break, and might have spent said break making and eating cookies and doing other stupid, frivolous things like that. Hopefully not, because that would not be very Head Boyish.

Yes. Well.

Lily Evans

P.S. Thanks for the Christmas present. It was actually pretty nice. (Scratch the postscript. Postscripts are for weenies.)

I am a total mess. Ugh. It doesn't even matter. I will just send this. Anyway, it's only Potter. He probably won't even read it.

Actually that would be perfect. Maybe he won't read the letter, but will happen to send me his notes about the things we are meant to accomplish.

He will do this because he is irresponsible and will want me to do all the work. Typical.

--

2.30pm I am a champion. I have finished all my thank you cards. I have sort of started my Healer Applications (I have looked at them! And filled in my name at the top!). I have not done anything else on my list, but have decided that I don't really care. I have forever before Hogwarts starts back up again, so my progress has honestly been an impressive example of my unending self-restraint. Ha ha ha. Whatever. I will have loads of time to be responsible when I am old and have arthritis etc.

So. Instead of working on things, I rang Mary. She always sort of becomes my best friend over the break because she is much more skilled with a Muggle telephone than Alice (who is basically only good at hanging up the phone on me in the middle of very important discussions) and can therefore be relied on for many giggles. Also, we don't talk much when we're at school, so we don't get totally sick of each other by the end of term. (Read: I do not feel like murdering her and dancing on her grave, like I sometimes do with Alice.)

Anyway. I was making pasta while I talked to her, and then I accidentally held the colander out over the floor instead of the sink (I was focusing on our super captivating conversation about beluga whales) and poured the pasta (plus boiling hot water) all over the ground. And then I did a weird, reflexive hop/skip/flail thing and threw noodles all over the place and dropped the phone (not into the water thank Merlin). Hilarious.

Note to self: Learn poise. Also grace.

5.43pm Rawr. I wish Potter would hurry up and respond already, so that I could subject his letter to merciless scrutiny and just generally find fault with it. Procrastinating is dull dull dull.

Note to self: Quit fooling self into picking up journal, supposedly with intention of writing down deep philosophical musings about life / being seventeen / other such deep, philosophical things. Especially since journal entries have increasingly been focused on whining about Potter. Lame.