A Literal Scrapbook

by Claire Whitmore

A scrapbook is messy, it's full of everything, an essence of what was. It has the smiles, the sadness and the moments when you laugh for no good reason and just want to be with someone loved. This is the Marauder's scrapbook, literally. It's a big bundle of warm fuzzy blankets, cheap wine and the comic section of the paper on a rainy day, just in the form of drabbles. R/S and J/L

30. Dear Book II

Dear Book,

I am now confident that James will never dare to open you again, not after I described about how 'sexy', 'hot' and 'irresistible' Evans is. This was, of course, followed by an abstract sketch of what I imagined Evans to look like without a bra and shirt. Prongs is no longer speaking to me, oh, but my dear little book, it was worth it.

I only had two weeks of tormenting nightmares and I still can't quite look at Lily in the eye.

It was still worth it.

Now that the animagus that-shall-remain-nameless is well out of the way, I can go and tell you more pressing matters that has been bothering me for some many weeks or months now.

I think I have finally cracked. There, I said it, I think I am insane, I think slowly my Mothers antics and the stench of dirty socks in this dorm have gotten to my head.

I am saying these things because-

I CANNOT WRITE IT DOWN, IT IS TWO EMBARASSING.

i think i may be in deep like with remus lupin.

It sounds a lot less serious when I write it in lowercase.

But, if I wrote it in uppercase like this:

I THINK I MAY BE IN DEEP LIKE WITH REMUS LUPIN.

It makes it sound a lot more daunting.

I have no idea what to do anymore, we made eye contact for half a second in Potions, and my heart started beating so hard I thought I was going to have a heart attack, then he asked me to pass the eye of newt.

The whole eye-of-newt-heart-beating-thing isn't nearly as romantic when I write it down.

I want to snog him silly and then be with him until I die.

I would like to say I'm in love, but I don't believe in love at all because it is too mushy. I don't like mushy things.

That's why I shag MacDonald on a three-daily basis, because we both enjoy it very much and it doesn't mean anything to both of us.

I hate MacDonald so much.

I borrowed a book from the library, and I didn't even need it for school! I better hope I don't need it for school, because it's one of those self-help teen books for morons (such as myself) who think they might like to snog someone that has the same genitalia as themselves.

The book is a load of bull, just so you know.

I'm hiding the bloody book under my bed so the guys don't see it and get all "DO YOU LIKE MEN NAKED, SIRIUS?"

I'm stopping here so I don't go on about how Remus makes me feel, because then I most certainly will be embarrassed.

With much overdue respect,

Padfoot.