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And then I accidently became a thief...
Dancing in ‘empty’ corridors, mysterious laughter and invisibility cloaks.
And then I became a pranking mastermind...
Planning, pranks, points and chickens.
And then I deal with the fact I ruined James Potter’s life...
Melinda No-pants, apologises and exploding strawberry creams.
And then I am reminded why people confuse me...
And then I actually enjoy myself...
Dates, vomiting and dramatic exits.
And then further complications arise...
Divas, letters, and boyfriends in-the-know.
And then I am forced to socialise with a wider range of people (read: not Dom)...
Classes, judging and more explosions.
And then I turn seventeen...
Books, chocolate and family.
And then there is quidditch (and quidditch related activities)...
Alcohol, vomit and near-misses.
And then there are not-so lazy Sundays...
Weasley jumper's, Nifflers and studying.
And then I am in mortal danger (and so is James Potter)...
Rat poison, definitions and unexpected help.
And then we were all prissy...
Study dates, letters from home and a side order of tension (oh, and cornflakes).
And then I’m a terrible girlfriend...
Siblings, homework and voles.
And then we talked...
Homework, lack of sleep and voles (again).
And then there is a deviation into toilet humour...
Freddie, glue and sweets.
And then there is a brief calm...
April, essays and typical Slytherins.
And then the proverbial excrement hits the metaphorical fan...
Bathrooms, rumours, and ultimatums.
And then I run into another wall...
Running, sisters and shock.
And then there are decisions to make...
Dogs, letters and Australians.
And then I think about the world...
Flats, Benson Flint and interventions.
And then there are shifts...
Crises, Dom and broom cupboards.
And then I start to fix things...
Me, James and April.
And then I have a merry Christmas...
Christmas, me and joy.
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