Disclaimer: I suppose I own Christopher. In essence. That, sadly, is all.

Author's Notes: Deep breath. Okay, this is a story I've been dying to write. It was going to be a oneshot with actual dialogue, but somehow it came out in the form of Lily's diary. This post was actually going to be the prologue, but then the diary idea came up, so some thoughts might seem a bit... calculated. I dunno how to explain it, but if you notice it, mention it in your review, but if you didn't, completely ignore what I'm saying and leave a review anyway. D

Ugh, that doesn't make sense. What I'm saying is that some of Lily's comments toward the end of the post are in the past tense, making it seem like it's after this whole ordeal, but it's really not. Just keep an eye out for the date at the top of the post. Oh yeah, and--

REVIEW.

Aliss

Christopher

4 January, 1977

When he had walked up to me, all charming eyes and dashing good looks, I hadn't known what to expect.

He is by far one of the most gorgeous men in all of Hogwarts, with eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles and matching dimples in the middle of his pale cheeks. And he's brilliant, too; very witty and better-than-average grades. He's agentleman and easy to be around.

Now I know I'm a good-looking girl; everyone's told me and I'm not blind. There may be a few things I don't like about myself, but I don't let them hold me back. So when he walked up to me and asked me out, I wasn't very surprised.

But what did surprise me were the emotions running through me. He was a wonderful person and would make a fabulous boyfriend. Just why was I so hesitant to say yes?

I knew the answer, of course. It was him. Everyone had to have their school-girl crush on him and it was just my turn. Surely it would pass. But, I reasoned with myself, wouldn't that silly little crush pass all the quicker with a dashing, dimpled boyfriend? But of course, I quickly reassured myself.

Besides, hadn't I giggled and gossiped with my roommates and friends about him and his dimples and how fabulous we would look on his arm? Wasn't I one of the girls who often swooned over what his kisses would be like? This was a chance many girls were pining away for; why waste my chance?

So I said yes.

I am now officially the lucky girl on Christopher Danes' arm. I get to see his dimples up close and gaze into his charming eyes whenever I please. I get to swoon over his feather-light kisses, which, might I add, are better than what Clarisse had ever said.

I'm happy, of course, for who wouldn't be happy with Christopher Danes? He pulls out my chair on dates, sends me flowers almost every day, and even reserves my favorite table in the library. He's sweet and charming and gentle with me, as if a kiss could break me. He compliments me and sends me sweet little notes when I'm upset or overwhelmed. He's an even better boyfriend than I though he would be.

But somehow, my psychology simply isn't working for me. Don't get me wrong, Christopher is a perfect gentleman, but I just can't seem to find the spark between us that makes you feel like you've got a bubbling potion within you.

You see, no matter how I try to distract myself with Christopher, his head pops into my mind and his voice fills my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts of him even go so far as to distract me into ignoring Christopher.

It makes me feel awful. Christopher is an absolute doll and deserves my full attention. So why is it that I can't seem to give it to him? It almost makes me feel as if I'm cheating on him, except without actually cheating on him. It's a consuming feeling.

Time and time again I question myself on why I actually agreed to go out with Christopher. It wasn't because I fancied him and it wasn't lust, and I couldn't even go so far as to say that I did it because I had the chance. No, it was something much different that made me say yes.

I had just come out of a meeting with the Head Boy when he asked me. He had looked anxious and had waited for me to clean up. Incidentally, the Head Boy had knocked over a stack of parchment and had told us to "pretend I'm not here." Christopher listened and asked me right then.

I have to admit I was a bit gob smacked. He'd said it so suavely and yet with a tinge of nervousness in his voice that made him irresistible. Perhaps I looked a bit gob smacked as well. At least that would explain my hesitancy to answer.

The real reason, though, was the Head Boy. He was staring intently at the parchment in his hands, awaiting my answer as much as Christopher was.

My heart went out for him then. He'd watched me go through my own fair chare of boyfriends and heartbreak, waiting relentlessly. Maybe he really chased me for the challenge; maybe it was really some dare he wouldn't live down; maybe he really did fancy me. But for whatever reason, he was waiting for my answer with baited breath as well.

That is when I did the quickest thinking I've ever done. Do I really want my obsession with the other Head to continue? I asked myself. Do I really want to get over something we would never be able to have? Do I even know how he really feels about me?

No, I answered myself confidently. I shouldn't be feeling this and I'm going to make to go away. It's what's right for both of us.

My mother often told me I was truly awful at gauging emotion, and I'd have to agree with her. I wasn't able to see what everyone else saw about the Head Boy's feelings toward me. I wasn't able to see what everyone else saw about my feelings toward the Head boy. But even if I could have been able to see it, I reckon I would've been too stubborn to admit to anyway.

I agreed to go out with Christopher right in front of him. I thought that with a bit of a distraction, my obsession with the messy-haired Head Boy would quickly melt away.

Much to my dismay and confusion, it's not.

It was just another thing I couldn't—or rather, wouldn't—let myself understand.

My mum told me loving someone would be easy. So then why am I so confused?