She Said What?

Chapter 8: I Continue to Float Along

September 30

Morning Check:

Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up, but that's only because I wake up at five in the morning with a jolt because I didn't do some stupid assignment I was putting off. I guess guilt is nature's most effective alarm clock. Definitely something to think about.

9:45 AM
Status: Slacking off in Runes

I was on a roll last night and actually finished reading up on the translations we're doing today. So, instead of having to feverishly take notes and stress, I get to slack off and write in here.

To be honest, I've been missing my diary. It's been several days since I've written and that doesn't feel right.

Looking carefully at the situation, it seems that I'm bonding with an inanimate book. Maybe I would've found that strange as a twelve-year-old, but twelve-year-old me didn't have the mad-cap schedule I'm trying to keep up with right now, so I think strange is just par for the course this year.

Take the days I haven't written as a case in point. I've gotten to the point where I have to dedicate my lunch period to studying as though I have exams the next day. When I'm showering, I am so busy running through my head-lists that I forget if I already washed my hair. Last night, I fell asleep at my desk with my open Potions textbook as my pillow – something Alice smacked me soundly for this morning when she came in to wake me up.

I'm tired. I'm a bit of a wreck. I'm running out of shampoo. I don't know how I'm supposed to survive November, let alone the rest of the year. It has to get easier, it just has to; and yet, I truthfully don't know if it will. That scares the living hell out of me.

On a happier note, good things continue to happen here at Hogwarts. The Let's Be Friends policy that James and I created has been working as well as one could hope, with us being considerably less awkward than usual while we wander about the empty hallways, wishing we were sleeping or getting something done (but mostly sleeping).

Mostly, our topics involve school and work, because that's really all we do these days, but I think that's good enough. Sometimes I'll repeat a joke Mary told me the other day in Charms. Sometimes he'll tell me the real reason why Sirius's hair was pink yesterday, or why Remus looked like he swallowed a lemon in Transfiguration. Pretty weird stuff, generally.

Nowadays, though, his attention is focused on Quidditch. He'll tell me all about how he's doing the training, how his team is doing, what their prospects could be at this early point. There's a match tomorrow – the first of the year, between Ravenclaw and Slytherin – and he's been getting pretty excited about it.

"It's good we're not playing first this year," he had said to me last night. "That way, I can get a look at the competition and train the team accordingly. We have to win the cup this year."

And, because of this, I know more about Quidditch tactics than I would have ever cared to know in my lifetime. It's much more complicated than I thought it was. No wonder Livvy is so exhausted after practice these days – I'm exhausted just hearing about what they're supposed to do in theory.

I suppose this is a good thing. This peace, this chill conversation. I get along with James as well as I get along with the other prefects, with all my various acquaintances in the castle. He really has changed. He's a good sort of guy – polite but funny, sweet without overdoing it, rebellious enough to interest me but not enough to irritate me.

His little games have become tamer now than they have been in the past – probably part of his campaign to be a good Head Boy – and that's great. That's grand. That's even wonderful. In the span of a year, James Potter has become certifiably and inexplicably perfect.