AN: Don't worry! It's (probably) not over! ;) enjoy please.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.

Feb. 11, 11:43 am

Hey all, Padfoot here. Messer. Prongs is slightly out of commission due to certain circumstances. He asked me, that nancy, to record what he dictates. He would like me to note, first and foremost, that he DID end up getting some muggle tattoos. Only a few though. Apparently the plan was to get his entire body covered in them.

Thankfully enough, the tattoo bloke only had time to finish his left buttock before he passed out. Prongs I mean, not the tattoo man. He stopped when Prongs fainted.

Oh, Messer. Prongs would like it to be noted that he did not faint, thank you very much. He passed out from loss of blood.

-Messer. Padfootwould like to note that there was no blood. He was there. And Messer. Prongs cried like a little girl.

Anyway, Messer Prongs has a very sore bottom and cannot sit well. And while I, personally, am rather fond of the bugger, Madame Pomfrey has had quite enough of him for one century. Thankfully, Mme. Pomfrey says he'll be here for a week or two while he's healing, and as such, will not be able to torture-I mean pursue poor-I mean lovely Evans-I mean Lily. Ow.

Journal! He hurt me!

Oh, hey, It's Evans-I mean Lily… She's holding a limping Alice. I wonder what's wrong with her. Oh- Messer. Padfoot is to note that Messer. Prongs needs to speak to him about Alice and Bellatrix. –Hey what?

"Hey, Evans, what's goin' on?"

"Shove off Black."

"Ouch Rosie, that hurt."

"I certainly hope so."

"Hey, can I show you something? It'll only take a minute, and it'll guarantee you a peaceful Valentine's Day."

"Did Potter die?"

"No, but it's similar enough. He tried to cover his entire body with 'I love Lily Evans' tattoos, but the artist only got so far before he faint- sorry, he 'passed out'."

"Why did they start with his left butt cheek?"

Feb. 14, 4:23 am

*sob* I'm stuck up here in the hospital wing with no lovely Lilies to keep me company. *sob* *sob* *sob* No I'm not crying journal! I have the hiccups. *sob*- I mean *hic* Madame Pomfrey's sleeping, the old cow. Keeping me locked up in here while I should be enchanting the entire school to sing Lily's praises! *sob* Oh! I have an idea! I must get started!

"Lily, what's wrong?"

"I don't know Alice, I just woke up with this terrible feeling of premonition."

"What, like we're all gonna be murdered in our bed's or something?"

"No, like I'm going to murder Potter in his bed or something."

Feb. 14, 11:45 am

Hello, Padfoot here again. This journal has been confiscated and the owner has been forced to undergo counseling. He will get it back once he's undergone several months of therapy.