Monday 10th February
I have a detention tonight.
It wasn't my fault, though. Helena Hodge came at me outside the Great Hall this morning after breakfast and started hissing shit at me. Apparently, Potter is 'hers,' I missed my chance ages ago and I had better leave him to her if I know what's good for me. I told her that I do know what's good for me, mainly exercise and green vegetables, at which point she tried to hex me. I do not like to fight, but I will also always defend myself against attack. She had hair growing out of nearly every orifice by the time we were caught by Professor Sinistra. Not bad for a girl with no shoes on.
Funnily enough, it was Potter who broke up the argument, although I'm not sure that one breaks up an argument by pointing their wand at somebody's head and threatening to remove their spleen whilst gibbering madly about some kind of love potion. It was rather nice, though, when he grabbed me round the waist to pull me away from Helena. After Sinistra gave me detention, I told Helena that I would not be drawn into a physical or magical fight with her again, but that if she thought that she could have what was rightfully mine she was completely mad. Potter followed me all the way down to History of Magic asking me what we were arguing about, but what was I supposed to tell him? Eh, over you? Emily and Beatrice both think that I am insane for fighting with Helena, but I think they're just annoyed because I am refusing to tell them why. I didn't even know why until earlier!
I am glad that I have Potter's cloak on me. I am using it to hide in the library on Bernard Chitock. I figure that I'll give it until Wednesday before saying yes; I'm kind of waiting for Potter to ask first. Of course, I'd say no if he asked, but I would hate for him not to.
I just saw Peter Pettigrew whispering something to Helena Hodge!!! They are plotting something! Perhaps Helena is going to tell Potter what I said to her? But then I could always claim that she is lying, and accept Bernard's invitation to prove my point. Still, I wonder what they could be talking about?
Still no shoes, I did get another note though. It says: Go to Slughorn's party with me, my Cinderella? I promise that I shall return your slippers to you before midnight. Creepy much? What kind of person would write a ransom note to that effect? I am not easy! Granted, I forgot to wear a bra yesterday, but that very rarely happens. Do I look like a common whore? What a sick, sick thing to do.
Potter, I have your cloak, and you're not getting it back until you lie on top of (the very unsuspecting) Lily Evans, or at least snog her until she can't breathe. Signed, someone who isn't Lily Evans.
No, too obvious.
---
The world has gone mad. I don't know what's going on anymore. Only good thing that happened today was that Kettleburn returned Algernon to me, free of any dratted potions. I think he's well worn-out, as he spent the rest of the day curled up under my bed. I doubt any other cat would ever try to take up residence under there - Algernon's firmly marked it as his territory. I think. I'm not sure if cats are territorial, but they seem like the sort.
Wormtail hinted today that he fancies someone I wouldn't approve of. Remus gave me another look, and that turned out well last time, so I shut up again. I wonder if it's Helena. I saw them chatting today. I don't know why he thinks I'd be bothered. He can have Helena for all I care, but even Peter can do better than Helena.
Speaking of, I had to break up a fight between her and Evans this morning. Most unusual. It was exciting for me because for one, Helena was hairy for the rest of the day, and I'm still pissed off about Algernon, and two, I got to hold Evans. It wasn't for very long, but it was nice all the same. She's slender, but not to the point where it hurts. Some girls starve themselves, but I think that's dead stupid. No bloke wants to be stabbed by some rib that's poking out. More proof Evans is brilliant. So I suppose that wasn't a total loss this morning, but Evans refused to tell me what they'd been fighting about. I asked Remus, but he chuckled and said I had to figure it out on my own. What use is having a smart bloke like Remus for a friend if he withholds his knowledge? Sirius was as lost as I was, and Wormtail was surprisingly nowhere to be found. Maybe he was off snogging Helena. If so, I hope she had the decency to shave first. That would be dead unpleasant.
I saw Evans rubbing her feet today in the common room after dinner. I wonder if she caught whatever Peter's got? I hope not. Whatever Peter's got is bound to be bad, as it's probably some rat disease.
No sign of the Cloak. Damn it. I should label it so I can find it on the Map, or something. I wonder if that'd work….
---
More proof the world's turned upside-down: I'm going to Slughorn's party on Friday. All I'll say is, I've learned my lesson about lurking about the corridors without the Cloak. Slughorn cornered me and has roped me into a blind date on Friday. This cannot end well.
Tuesday 11th February
My detention was a fairly uneventful one, I merely had to polish trophies for Mr. Filch. He doesn't seem to hate me as much as he does Potter and his friends, but I still can't feel at ease when he's carrying that belt around. And his cat scares me somewhat.
I put a note up in the common room today.
To whoever took Lily Evans's shoes -
I don't care how many references to Muggle fairy tales you make (and for your information, I do not like Cinderella, because Snow White or The Little Mermaid are far superior stories), I will not go to Slughorn's party with you, and I want my shoes back! I don't have any other shoes and my feet are bloody killing me. Also, does anyone know how to prevent your feet from aching without going to Pomfrey?
Lily Evans
I saw Potter looking at it earlier, maybe he took them. I hope he did not, because then I would definitely not go to Slughorn's party with him. I went to his Quidditch practice wearing his cloak last night, and charmed the Quaffle to fly near me every three minutes, so that he would have to keep flying after it. He looked all sweaty and annoyed and sexy nice. I will definitely take more of an interest in Quidditch from now on.
Speaking of Potter, which is all I do now, I spent most of Herbology writing ransom notes on scraps of paper, but I couldn't write one that a) wasn't creepy and b) didn't give away my identity. I think I'm just going to return Potter's cloak to him. I can't keep it forever and if he finds out I did it, he might like me even less than he already does. Not that I'm sure he doesn't like me, of course, but he's certainly not flirting with me any longer.
---
I am under Potter's bed. I am covered with the Invisibility Cloak and I have cast Muffliato so that he can't hear my Quill scratching on this paper. His cat is here, but Algernon does not seem to mind my presence. The smell is fucking awful.
I returned his cloak alright, but when I got downstairs I realized that one of my mock ransom notes was missing, so I had to go back upstairs to get it before the stupid bugger found it and twigged what was going on. Only then, he came up the stairs himself, so I had just enough time to dive under the bed, drag my bag with me and cover myself with the cloak. I have no idea what he's doing up there, but he doesn't seem to be making any noise. In fact, I think he may be writing something too.
I am going to say yes to Bernard almost as soon as I get out of here.
---
Someone has stolen Evans' shoes, and according to Remus, they've been missing for some time. I was surprised I hadn't noticed, but I suppose between my sick cat and chasing off Helena, I've been too caught up in my own life. Is it strange that I feel bad for neglecting her? I'm also still upset that she's going to the party with Bernard, and that I'm going with MerlinSlughorn-knows-who (I refuse to compare the two). The sad thing is, I know I could easily get out of it. Sirius keeps trying to discuss ways for me to skip the party so I can spend the night with him and the others, but I want to go so I can hex Bernard with bad breath. I'll show him for stealing my Evans.
Cloak is still missing. If it were anything but my dad's Cloak, I'd follow Evans' example and put up a note. At least Algernon is better. I saw him chasing some mice earlier.
Wormtail disappeared after dinner. He seemed quite unhappy. I hope Helena hasn't been too hard on him.
Wednesday 12th February
Potter, the stupid bastard, fell asleep on his bed last night and it took me ages to get out. When I eventually crawled out from under his smelly deathtrap of a bed, I made to drape the Invisibility Cloak over his headboard and fell on top of him. It was the bloody cat, I swear it. He darted out between my legs and knocked me over. Potter woke up but it was dark and he didn't have his glasses on, so he didn't actually see me properly. Also, he fell asleep right after, mumbling something about nipples. Nutcase. At least he has his cloak back. I have not yet seen the return of my beloved shoes.
I told Beatrice about my Potter problems and she said that I should give him the opportunity to 'rescue' me, because men apparently love that. I disagreed, because I am terrible at being helpless and never require saving. She said that there are ways around that. I think she is going to try to hex me from behind my back or something. It's the kind of thing she finds funny. I love the girl and everything, but I don't feel safe walking in front of her any more.
I told Bernard that I would indeed accompany him to Slughorn's party and he was very nice and happy about it, so hopefully Friday will go well. Helena Hodge has left me alone for the time being, I keep seeing her skulking around the library with Peter Pettigrew, who by the way, just came in to Potions but darted back out again when he saw me here alone. Maybe she has told him that she will break up with him if he comes near me, since she hates me so very much. He's gone now. Potions doesn't start for another five minutes, but I don't feel like sitting with Beatrice at lunch, she's starting to freak me out. I think I'll put some of that lotion Emily gave me on my feet while nobody's here.
Shit shit shit there's Potter!!!
---
My Cloak has been returned! No clue who took it. Maybe Wormtail borrowed it so he could sneak off with Helena. He should've asked, first. That's dead rude. It smells nice now, though, which makes me suspect that it was not Wormtail.
Evans has lovely feet. I caught her putting lotion on them today. At least I know why she's obsessed with her feet, though I don't know why she hasn't bought another pair. Hogsmeade isn't until Saturday, but she could've sent an Owl order or something. Girls are strange sometimes usually always. I told Evans I thought she had nice-looking feet, but I don't think she heard me, and I didn't want to say it again because then Sirius walked in. She was busy scribbling away in her Potions notes when I entered. She's so brilliant at Potions, I don't know why she has to take notes, anyhow. She could probably teach the class. I'd partner her, if I weren't me.
I fear for Friday. I forgot that I not only have to go, I'll have a date. Today Sirius tried to scare me into ditching by guessing my date's identity. Of course, all the people he mentioned were atrocious. What if it's Silvia Dodgson? She's nice enough, but I couldn't stand to listen to her go on about History of Magic for hours on end. I get enough of that during Binns's class. I also don't like her hair. It's not red.
Wormtail looked mildly happier today. Remus refuses to discuss it with me, but he seems very amused by it all. I think Peter dating Helena is funny, too, but I'm also more than willing to talk about it. Remus must know something I don't, as Sirius and I had a good laugh about the idea of them up in the Astronomy Tower together.
Thursday 13th February
I'm at lunch now, but somebody ate all of the pancakes. Wankers.
Potter told me that I had nice feet yesterday, only I think he was mocking me, so I ignored him. He and Sirius were giggling at the back of the classroom and I distinctly heard them mention Helena Hodge, so I bet that they are making fun of me for some reason. They also said something about economy showers or something, I swear, those two are insane.
Peter Pettigrew is my hero! He found my shoes for me! Apparently, he went into the third year boy's dorm to borrow a Remembrall off of his cousin Nick Crabtree, and he saw them underneath Terry Heaney's bed! What a darling! I could have kissed him when he handed them to me at breakfast, as it was I gave him huge hug. Then Remus came over to the table and sat with us. We had a rather nice conversation, although Remus seemed amused about something mysterious. Peter, as it transpires, is not dating Helena Hodge, merely being tutored in Herbology. Helena is apparently very good at it. Peter's cousin Nick is going to the Slug Club party tomorrow and he is bringing Peter along. Peter asked if he would see me there and I told him that I would probably bump into him at some stage. He asked me to save him a dance, and I said yes, although I have no idea why he would want to dance with me. He ran off then, citing a need for the lavatory.
Remus and I are patrolling tonight, which will be nice.
Emily says that Beatrice is going to try and attack me so that I faint in the corridors, but she has promised to do it only when Potter is around to catch me and administer the snog of life, which, Emily says, is like mouth to mouth resuscitation with tongues. I told her to warn Beatrice not to do this. We were sitting at the back of Transfiguration class, waiting for it to start, and Black and Potter were walking by when Emily mentioned the snog of life (although they thankfully missed the preceding conversation) and Black made some smart remark about how it would be difficult to breathe again if Bernard Chitock's smelly tongue (or anybody's, for that matter) was in my mouth. I didn't bother to respond, even when Potter asked me how I got my shoes back. I'm still angry about his slight on my feet. Emily told him that Peter Pettigrew found them and Potter just mumbled something under his breath and stalked off. He has a rather nice bottom, now I come to think about it.
Potter, not Black. Or Peter Pettigrew. Urgh.
---
I think Evans is upset with me. My mates and I were all heading to Defense when Peter suddenly let out a little squeal and darted behind a suit of armor. I went back to investigate, but as soon as I'd reached him I heard a cry behind me, and then a thud. I spun back around to see Evans sprawled on the ground. She has dead awful friends - neither Wood nor Booth did a thing to help her in her moment of need, although Wood seemed a bit more upset over Evans's mysterious fainting spell than Booth did. I'm happy to know that any of my mates would catch me if I suddenly became dizzy. Not that I would, of course. I am a Marauder, after all. I asked her friends if she was all right, and they muttered something I couldn't understand. Not wanting to intrude, the four of us kept on. Evans must've felt better because she came to class with the rest of us. After class, though, I stopped to ask her how she was, gentleman that I am. She seemed dead mad, though, and just glared at me. When it comes to her, nothing I do is right, it seems.
Not only is she mad at me, but it seems I have unexpected competition for Evans's affection. Apparently Wormtail was the shoe thief. Sirius, Remus, and I confronted him about it after Defense because we didn't believe the story he'd fed Evans about them. He finally confessed that he'd sent her the creepy ransom notes (my words, not his). Helena has been helping him in his efforts to seduce her, except according to Wormtail, Helena is pants at seduction. I could've told him that. In short, I've told Peter to back off, but he insists on coming with to the party tomorrow all the same. Remus barely said anything during the intervention, which makes me suspect that maybe he was the one we should've been interrogating.
Professor Hallosheth was ill today, and Dumbledore was his replacement. I don't think I'll ever look at acorns the same way again.
---
I've been lying on the sofa in the common room for the past half an hour. My head is killing me. Apparently I hit it when I fainted earlier, and I now have a huge bruise. Beatrice, who is the fiend behind all of this, has been rubbing my head, but now she has had to leave and snog Karl Pilkerson over in the corner. Whore. Emily told me to sit up because I might have concussion, so I've decided to write in here instead. It gives me something to concentrate on, in any case.
Oh, here comes Peter Pettigrew. Sweet boy.
So Peter and I just had a nice, long chat. He said he didn't see me faint today as he was late to Defence, but he can't believe that nobody made any effort to help me when I fell. He gave me a cold cloth that his mother owns. It is enchanted to stay cool and soft, and also to stay attached to your head while you go about your business. I am quite possibly in love with it. I must look like a right fool, sitting here with a big blue cloth stuck to my forehead (Potter certainly finds something funny about it because he keeps looking over here), but I don't care. Bernard Chitock was very nice about my fall, too. I told him about it and not only did he offer to cover my patrol with Remus tonight, he also told me that I would look beautiful even if I had knocked all of my teeth out. A rather odd and stupid compliment, to be sure, but it is like Shakespeare when compared to something like, "Those are nice-looking feet you've got there, Evans."
I can't believe that Potter found it funny when I fainted. Peter told me as much. He said that he had a word with him about it, though. He's such a dear.
I am going to go to bed now, and tomorrow night I guarantee that I will look so stunning that even Potter will wish he'd asked me to the party. But I will just laugh at him. Ha ha ha ha ha.
I hate Potter. Also, I don't think that Dumbledore should be allowed near acorns ever again.
Friday 14th February
I'm about to dash off to Sluggy's party. Sirius has got me paranoid now. He's convinced my date is Deborah Munnings, and, well, I might have to kill Slughorn if that's the case. (Note that I am pointedly not mentioning her beaver-like hands.) To top it all off, I saw Wormtail getting cozy with Evans in the common room today. I'd know that cold cloth anywhere. The fiend! Evans is mine!
---
The good news: my date was Winifred Barnes, that sweet fifth-year Hufflepuff with blonde hair. The bad news: I may have permanently ended any chance I ever had of ending up with Evans.
The evening started off well enough. I met Winni outside the Great Hall. She was wearing a red hair barrette, the agreed-upon sign. I looked rather dashing myself, but did not forget to compliment her. And no, that was not because Remus reminded me to do so on my way out of the common room. We met with Peter and his cousin, and then journeyed down together. Everything was grand until Evans walked in on the arm of The Berk. He's such a dim-witted swine, I can't stand it. Evans, of course, has never looked more radiant than she did then. She had a swig of holly behind her ear. The Berk kept readjusting it, but I know it was merely an excuse to keep touching her. I wanted to vomit whenever I looked over at them. How dare he cavort about with my woman! I tried to be polite enough to Winifred, but I suspect she saw me glance over at them one too many times. Oops. Not my fault, as I kept reminding myself.
The low-point of the night was when I finally had had enough and asked Evans, very nicely, if she'd like to dance. She rolled her eyes and me, then waved at someone over my shoulder. I'm dead tired, so I'll merely say that I will never, ever forgive Peter for stealing that dance from me. This did not help my mood, so I went over and tried to reverse the situation by dancing with Winifred. I made sure her back was to Evans so I could look at her and Peter. He may have once been my friend, but Peter can't dance. Evans, lovely girl that she is, was pretending she didn't notice how often he trod on her nice-looking feet. I hope she doesn't have any bruises. Her feet are likely sore enough as it is after Peter's theft. If I thought she'd believe me, I'd tell her the truth: Peter is a lying scumbag. Maybe I can convince Remus to talk to her about it.
More things happened, but they were all relatively unimportant. Suffice it to say that I doubt The Berk will ever be able to satisfactorily snog anyone again, and that I have detention for the next two weeks with Professor Weber. Worth it, I say.
I am not speaking to Peter.
---
I am not speaking to Peter.
Never mind the fact that he practically raped my feet while he was dancing with me and never mind the fact that he spilled pumpkin juice all over my dress. No, no, no, never mind all of that. Peter Pettigrew is a rat!
The party started well enough, I suppose, apart from the fact that I looked really shitty. Bernard was very pleasant at first, although he got way too amorous later on and thrust, and I mean thrust, his large and (yes, Sirius Black) smelly tongue into my mouth. So I bit it, hard, before kicking him and leaving him to dance with Pettigrew. I don't think I bit it that hard, but I saw him staggering around later on with blood gushing from his mouth and odd green bubbles growing out of his tongue, so Merlin only knows what I did to him. I'm quite proud of myself, in any case.
So anyway, I danced with Peter right after Potter came up and asked me to, no doubt because he had concocted some kind of hair-brained scheme to humiliate and make fun of me. As I just said, Peter raped my feet with his own, the ratty little bastard, and landed a clumsy kiss on my cheek afterwards. I thought that he was just being sweet and friendly, but before I knew it, I was being whisked outside of the office by Peter's cousin Nick. I was surprised to find Remus there, but then Remus told me (over the din of some kind of loud fight that was going on back in Slughorn's office) that it was probably in my best interests to know that Peter was the one who stole my shoes and had planned all of this in an effort to seduce me. He felt that I ought to know before I 'made any decisions.'
The worst part was that Potter knew about Peter and his shoe stealing, and never told me about it. That is proof that he is nothing but a cruel, ignorant arse, a cruel, ignorant arse who likes to snog people like Winifred Barnes. I'm sure that Winifred Barnes never loses her shoes or hides under his bed. I hope that Winifred Barnes dies a horrible, bloody death while Potter is forced to sit and watch her.
Not only that, but these new shoes (Emily gave them to me earlier because she thought that they'd go with my dress) have murdered my already raped feet! They have cut into my heels and my feet are now both bleeding. I am going to Remus's dorm to borrow some dittany as he is never without some. And while I am there, I am going to tell Potter and Pettigrew exactly what I think of them.
---
That went well. Ish. I told Peter exactly what I thought of him and he was properly ashamed. Luckily for me at the time, Potter wasn't there, Remus said that he'd been writing something but stopped briefly to go to the bathroom, so I made it quick in order to avoid him. Pettigrew tried to apologize but I wasn't having any of it, and then… and then….
I would have been fine if Potter hadn't come back but he did, and I couldn't exactly ignore him as he was impeding my way out of the dorm. My diatribe didn't come out exactly as I'd planned it, because all I managed to coherently say was that he was an arrogant, sly bastard and that I was well and truly over him. The rest was drowned out by his shouts as I whacked him over the head with the dittany bottle. He shouted, 'FUCK!' as I left, but that may have just been because of the trail of blood I left on the floor.
I am never speaking to Potter again. I hope he marries Winifred Barnes and that she gets horribly obese. Wankers.
Saturday 15th February
Mum sent me an owl this morning. She said Great Aunt Gertrude died, and now my mum and her sister are in a fierce battle over the silverware. Honestly, who cares about forks when I'm heartbroken? I wrote my mother back and, skimming over the details, informed her of my woes. I don't like to tell her too much, as she's faint of heart. I think if she knew everything that I got up to she'd pull me out of Hogwarts straight away. I tell some to my dad, but that's because he thinks it's dead cool. Except he probably won't be proud of how I lost Lily Evans…. Perhaps I shouldn't have sent that letter to Mum, as she'll tell him about it. Damn.
On the upside, Remus told Lily about The Rat's deception. Sirius joined me on my quest to block The Rat out of our existence. I've put up a sound barrier around his part of the room so we don't have to hear him. I tried to put up a wall, but the house-elves stopped me. Apparently it's against school rules to change the architecture.
On the downside, Evans hit me on the head with something last night, maybe because I sent all those hexes at The Berk. Come to think of it, it was probably a bottle of foot lotion or something. It looked as though Peter had cut into her feet deep enough to bleed. More reason not to talk to him. He tried to pantomime apologies this morning, but I was having none of it. Padfoot, Moony, and I went to Hogsmeade without him. I think he went off to commiserate with Helena, but I couldn't be arsed to check. I spent all day looking over my shoulder, hoping to see Evans, but I didn't spot her all day. Strangely, this made me feel worse.
I can't decide who to use my new Treacherous Quill on: Snivellus or The Rat.
Why would I ever need to Apparate when I can fly everywhere? These lessons are dead useless.
I should train Algernon to fetch me things.
---
I talked to Helena Hodge today, and told her that she could have James Potter if she wanted. She must really like him, because she asked me to sign a contract (I hereby agree that James Potter must forevermore belong to Helena Hodge, and I will never pursue or think about pursuing him again, signed ________) and shoved a sheet of parchment under my nose. I took the paper, but I am most definitely not signing it. She's probably hexed it to make me grow male genitalia or something. I wouldn't put it past her.
Emily, Beatrice and I went to Hogsmeade after our Apparition lessons (I managed it once, at the end of the hour. Huzzah! Potter was really annoyed because Peter, the disgusting rat, managed it too and Potter still can't do anything other than fall over) and we were joined by Remus in the Three Broomsticks. He apologized for the rumpus he caused at the party last night, and told me that Potter was sorry for hexing Bernard. I was most surprised at this, and told Remus that I didn't even know that Potter had spoken to Bernard. On the contrary, I am pissed off with Potter because of his deliberate and cruel attempts to reject me. Remus reacted strangely when he heard this and left the pub for a while. When he came back, he told me that he was trying to look for Potter but he couldn't find him, but that I should really talk to him the next time I see him. As if, I would rather stick my head unto a barrel of moldy cheese. Why a barrel? I do not know.
Ooh! Beatrice, Emily and I have decided to host a giant, feminist, man-loathing party in the common room tonight. I say that the three of us are, but it was actually Beatrice's idea. She has just come back from a trip around the Three Broomsticks and it seems that most of the girls in our house are well up for it. We're not going to cause any trouble, just make fun of every male who happens to be in the common room at the time, apart from maybe the younger ones, because that wouldn't be fair.
Oh, it seems that Emily has forged Winifred Barnes' signature on the contract. See, this is why I love Emily. Maybe now Winifred will die. Emily and Beatrice say that they have written a very nasty and anonymous letter that should reach Potter any minute now.
Yay.
Potter's cat is in my dorm, and he is either trying to make himself dizzy or make me follow him. I care not; I refuse to be fetched by something named Algernon.
Sunday 16th February
I thought after the party that things would settle back down, but I must've been higher than the Quidditch hoops. Yesterday was good enough, under the circumstances, until I received a mysterious letter. I didn't get a chance to read it, however, as Algernon pounced on it the moment it flew into my room. I tried to piece it together, but even a simple Reparo didn't do anything. I think there were simply too many pieces. Also, Algernon may have eaten some of the letter. Oh well, I hope it wasn't anything important. Probably a letter from Helena, or something equally dull.
Sirius, Remus, and I hold strong in our refusal to interact with The Rat. Maybe he'll up and run away to live among the rats. Serves him right. Last night the Gryffindor girls all got together to bash every bloke in the Tower. I thought this was unfair, but my protests went unheeded. Angus Hopkins was so distraught that his girlfriend Matilda had joined in that he fetched McGonagall. She followed him back, but when she heard the vile things they were all spouting, she just smiled and said they weren't breaking any rules, and if we had any sense we'd start taking notes on what they were saying. No clue what she was on about. I'm pretty sure I heard Evans going on about my cruelty to her friends. I pretended I didn't hear and went upstairs to continue training Algernon. Last night I tried to get him to fetch me a sandwich, but he came back empty-handed. Damn.
---
I received a letter from Pettigrew today, in which he explained his bizarre behavior of the past few weeks. He informed me that he only really liked me because I am one of the only people who was ever nice to him. He didn't want to admit to his friends that the person whom he really had a crush on was Bertha Jorkins, whom he has loved from afar (he didn't use that phrasing, but I think that 'loved from afar' is better than 'have a fing for er, yeh?') since he was a first year, because they would tease him, so he decided to try somebody more popular, whom his friends would approve of. Bertha Jorkins finished school last year, however, and Peter has been feeling rather upset ever since. Finally, he said that he hadn't meant to cause any fights, because his friends are 'the best in the world' and he didn't know how much I liked Potter.
I know that they are all fighting now, and I don't want that, so I gave the letter to Potter when I saw him in the corridor, only making one amendment. I blotted out the part of the letter that said, 'I didnt no ow much you liked im, yeh?' Not only do I not want Potter to know that, I just couldn't stand to let that poorly constructed and spelled sentence run amok on the world. Potter tried to say something to me when I handed it to him, but I pretended that I found something behind his left ear really interesting and walked away. I hit my leg off of a first-year's schoolbag and tripped as I went, but I don't think he noticed. Smooth, Evans. Really smooth.