I'm not in love with him. Really, I'm not. I hate him.

Oh, shut up. I know what you're thinking. We're absolutely perfect for each other. We must be, since we hate each other so much.

Okay, he doesn't hate me, he even says he loves me. And, I suppose I don't hate him...He's just so immature and mean and arrogant, and he's such a bully and he's so prejudiced, and he's so bloody gorgeous...

Wait, what?

Not gorgeous. Absolutely not. Attractive, yes, oh god, definitely yes, but gorgeous, no. No, of course not. No, no, no. Yes. No!

Bastard. He has me under some sort of spell, I know. Why else would I be having these thoughts?

He wouldn't be so bad if he would leave the first years alone, but he keeps telling that its a tradition at Hogwarts to let a troll in on Halloween. Honestly, when would that ever happen?

My friend Alice is looking at my parchment oddly. I wonder why?

I look down.

Lily Potter.

Lily Evans Potter.

Mrs. Lily Potter.

Mrs. James Potter.

LE 'hearts' JP

Now how did that get there?

It's in my handwriting. I must have written it subconsciously while I was complaining about that arrogant prat. I only wrote it because I was thinking about how much I dislike him.

Right?

Yes. Yes, that's it! If I keep saying that, then it will be true!

And, in the words of a great short, fat, bald man whose name escapes me at the moment, "Its not a lie if you believe it!"