Log in

No account? Create an account
This is now... [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
This Is Now

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

(no subject) [Jul. 10th, 2005|11:29 pm]
This Is Now

[Current Mood |determined]

These journals seem to be fading, or something. So I reckon it's kind of dumb to be writing this if it's just going to disappear. But then, maybe it's good. Maybe if I put the things here that I can't really say out loud, and they fade, then maybe the stuff that the words are about will fade some too and it won't hurt so much.

He left a note before he went. Hermione and I found it yesterday when we were packing up his things.

I know you'll both be angry about this, so I won't tell you not to be. You guys remember first year, when you stayed behind to help each other and I went in after Quirrel. You trusted me. I need to make it stop, one way or another, and I don't see any reason I should lose either of my best friends in the process. I'll be back before you know it... don't be mad. Save me some supper.

He knew Hermione and I would have wanted to go with him. I was angry with him at first for going without us but now I think he was right. I would have stopped him, cause I'm selfish. I would have wanted to have him safe even if that meant Voldemort would be alive. I reckon Harry knew Hermione and me better than we knew ourselves sometimes.

Burying Harry was the hardest thing I ever did. He was my best mate and for the last seven years we did everything together and with Hermione. We got into more trouble than it ought to be allowed for three people to get into. It was going to be that way forever. We had plans for things, and the things we didn't have plans for we were going to have a hell of a time figuring out. Those things aren't happening now. Harry and Hermione aren't getting a flat near me, and I'm not going to floo over to beat his arse in chess every night (he was a crap player), and we aren't going to go for strawberry-peanut butter ice cream anymore, and Harry's not going to sneak the last of the treacle tart when I'm not looking, and a lot of other things I don't want to write cause I don't want to keep thinking about them if they're never going to happen.

What I really want to do is remember the stuff he taught me. Because if I forget it, and I let other people forget it, then what Harry died for doesn't mean shite.

He taught me that it's ok to be scared of a word as long as I don't let it stop me from saying it anway. It's okay to be scared of anything really - only stupid people aren't scared - what matters is getting over the scared. He taught me that the best thing you have is your word. And he taught me that you have to always make sure the truth is heard, no matter what it takes.

Harry might be gone but if he thought I was sitting around moping he'd probably come and haunt me or something and I'd deserve it. He'd want me to get off my arse and do something. So yesterday I went and got a flat. Hermione's going to come and stay with me for a bit cause I don't think either of us wants to stay by ourselves right now. I'm going to start my job in two weeks. I'm going to spend lots of time with Luna and my family cause I'm lucky to have them.

And I'm going to remember that if it wasn't for Harry, I wouldn't be able to do it.

I miss you, mate.

Never is an awfully long time. [Jul. 10th, 2005|11:01 pm]
This Is Now

[Current Mood |indescribable]

This morning, as I was packing up some of his things while Ron took the servicing kit to the Firebolt, my mind began to wander and I remembered being in the hospital wing with the both of them just before Christmas, watching over him. Ron and I were going to visit him, as he was in there to recover from an attack and we were worried about him. I'd wanted to take him a fresh change of clothing, and I had decided that I was going to read to them as well. Ron hadn't heard of the story, J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, and I told him that it reminded me of us, of the three of us. Not everything about the story of Peter Pan reminded me of us, but there are bits and pieces here and there that did. That still do.

He was The Boy Who Lived, and he had so much responsibility thrust upon his shoulders, mostly unwillingly, but some of it he brought upon himself. He wanted to save everyone, to fight to protect because he felt he had to do it and not because he really wanted to get into it. What he wanted most in the world was a family, his family. He wanted his mother and his father, and more. He wanted to be normal and, while others viewed him as something abnormal, Ron and I always thought him that way.

The first time I saw him, I admit that I'd stared at the scar on his forehead. I'd read all about him, you see, and coming face-to-face with someone whom you've read all about is very daunting. But as soon as I shut the door to the carriage he and Ron had been sharing on the Hogwarts Express, I realised that he was just like me, just like Neville (whose toad I'd been looking for at the time), and just like everyone else. Ron knew that as well as I did; I saw that the moment I'd opened that door and spotted them together, stuffing themselves with sweets, laughing, and already forming a bond that was as thick as thieves and thicker than blood could ever be.

He and Ron rather thought me a nightmare at the beginning of first year. It wasn't until they saved me from the Mountain Troll that they considered me a friend, and I was glad for it, as I'd secretly envied the way they were so close and always laughing together. I'd never had friends like that before, and when they brought me into their fold I thought I was the luckiest witch in the world. They were so brilliant and fun, which I never told them because I was always after them to be serious, study, and follow the rules. To let them know that I secretly thought such things would have been daft; they never would have let me hear the end of it! But really, I like to think that I was as good for them as they were for me. Together, they taught me that it was all right to let go and laugh and not be so intense all the time, and I like to think that I taught them a little bit about organisation and how important it was to always try your best.

When we were second years, I became petrified by the basilisk. I was in that state for weeks, and I remember Madam Pomfrey telling me almost the moment I'd been revived that he and Ron had been in every single day to see and talk to me, even though they knew I wouldn't have been aware that they were there. He never gave up on me and neither did Ron. He never gave up on either of us.

We did so much together, the three of us. We avoided three-headed dogs and evaded Devil's Snare. We braved the Whomping Willow to rescue Ron and met Sirius for the first time. We made the best out of rocky times in all of our friendships at one time or another, even though it was difficult, especially during the ups-and-downs of our fourth year. Ron and I refused to leave him alone, even when he shouted and raged at us, accusing us of keeping things from him. We stood by Ron's dad when he was very badly hurt fifth year and fought Death Eaters with Ginny, Luna, and Neville. We grieved for Sirius together. We tried to understand that prophecy together. We tried to make sense of Sirius coming back to us together but decided it wasn't important, that it only mattered that he was back. We've buried housemates together and seen one another in the hospital wing more times than we'd care to remember. We've been on adventures great and small together and risked our lives for each other. We've comforted one another. We've been a series of firsts for one another. We've been a trio, the three of us together, for as long as I can remember.

We've been a trio for so long that I don't know how to be a duo.

I'm going to have to learn how, though.

He always said I could learn anything.

I'm going to learn what it's like to be without him and, for the first time ever, I am not looking forward to learning.

We're almost done packing, and it won't be long before Ron and I are unpacking in our new flat. I can't be alone right now, and neither can Ron, so we figured this would be the best thing for the both of us to do. I was looking forward to picking out a shelf space in my library for Harry, rolling my eyes and tutting when I'd catch him Flooing back from Ron's flat in the middle of the night after a game of Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess, arguing over the best way to arrange the furniture, making him dance with me in the kitchen to some Celestina Warbeck song on the WWN that he'd hate like we've seen Ron's mum and dad do...but I have to learn what it's going to be like to not be able to do these things.

It's funny, the things you notice sometimes. I've not been paying much attention to the stars lately, and I used to always love to watch them, even when I was a little girl. Has anyone else noticed Sirius? There are three small stars clustered around it, and I've just never noticed them before. Maybe they were always there. Or maybe they weren't. My point is that they're there and I've just noticed them and they're so bright. It's probably daft, but I almost feel like it's them. Mr Potter, I told you that I'd take care of Harry for you. I did the best I could, and with all my heart. He's with you again, the both of you, so you please take care of him for Ron and for me, all right?

And Harry?

I'm watching you. Always. Second star to the right, and then straight on till morning.

I love you.

(no subject) [Jul. 9th, 2005|01:34 am]
This Is Now

So it seems the ink is fading from my journal, and so it seems that we are to forget all the old plans and memories as well. I wonder if we were ever intended to remember. Easier to forget. Even easier when someone's erasing the words. I suppose it's how things will go, because I can't even remember what I'm meant to be doing right now.

Well, for what it's worth: Until the ink fades, then, Bones, Potter, Corner. The rest. In peace.
Link1 comment|Leave a comment

(no subject) [Jul. 6th, 2005|09:52 pm]
This Is Now

[Current Mood |accomplished]

Now that's a send off, if you ask me. Fireworks, ferrets, and fake arms.

Where are you, you red-headed bastard?
Link28 comments|Leave a comment

(no subject) [Jul. 6th, 2005|01:19 pm]
This Is Now

Smelled cigarettes in the green house.

Back already, then?
Link34 comments|Leave a comment

The Daily Prophet [Jul. 6th, 2005|04:24 am]
This Is Now
July 6, 1998
LinkLeave a comment

LEARNING TO APPARATE [Jul. 4th, 2005|12:48 pm]
This Is Now

[Current Mood |accomplished]

It really is very unfortunate about my cousin Rodolphus Lestrange's untimely demise. He was a dark and treacherous man, and I'm quite certain he would have preferred a more glamourous death than to be stomped flat by Sarsparilla whilst hiding amongst the bramble in the Forbidden Forest. I daresay he likely regrets having banished me to the Forbidden Forest when he came calling last week, for he never took the time to understand one of the most fundamental things about me, that being that I get along well with flora, fauna, and magical creatures exceptionally well. When I whistled for Sarsparilla finally, she came to me straight away (I found myself in the company of a most sour and off-putting creature who reminded me rather of Professor Umbridge, and it shortly became clear that the protective factor of a fire-breathing Sodzilla would be most useful). Anyhow, Sarsparilla came willingly, and more's the pity for my barmy cousin for it. I've his journal if anyone needs it (highest bidder, cash only)

Rodolphus had on him a magical dagger at the time of his death, which pierced the delicate pad of Sarsparilla's foot. It also had the unfortunate side effect of impaling his flattened body to Sarsparilla's toes, so I had to whack him loose with a fallen tree branch. I left him in the forest, figuring no one had use for him really.

I rode upon Sarsparilla's back for several days, figuring there was something amiss owing to the occasional group of hooded figures that hurried by, as if trying to hide. Most importantly, though:


It's funny what one can do when they have to, isn't it? I'm not sure I ever realised how true this is.

I Apparated away from my cousin when he first took me to the forest, and ended up in the pocket of a very large, very unarticulate, sixteen-foot man, who spoke little English. He squeezed me and called me "Germy" -- WHICH IS PATENTLY FALSE, THANK YOU SIXTEEN FOOT MAN!!!! -- and so I Apparated again, and this time found myself visiting with a herd of rather pretentious centaurs. They did share their alfalfa treacle with me, after we discussed Mars, the stars in general, and my personal position that centaurs are not human in the slightest, although they may share a general physical resemblance in certain areas. Alfalfa treacle, for the record, is quite fortifying, albeit a bit bland. I then went walking, and found a very lush grotto somewhere deep in the forest, where a group of unicorns live. I thought Regulus would have quite liked it there; he is back in Santorini, though. I then Apparated again, and that's when I met the aforementioned dour creature, who was a poor host indeed, and it was then that I decided to whistle for Sarsparilla, figuring she would be tall enough to be able to see above the forest canopy. Sarsparilla and I spent until Saturday navigating the forest, for as it turned out, she was often not tall enough to see above the trees, and when we finally emerged from the edge of the forest, we were on the Hogsmeade side.

So I rode Sarsparilla into town, and tethered her outside Madam Rosmerta's. My flat was undisturbed, so I felt comfortable fixing tea and crumpets for myself, and it was then that I was able to peruse the newspapers. While sipping tea, mind. I see that Draco and I will have only had tea with Potter the one time after all. I then began musing, for . . . it had never before occurred to me that Harry Potter was capable of death. Colour me surprised. In the face of Potter's death, I was, of course, prompted to consider my own mortality, which rendered me depressed and weepy. If Potter can die, then so can we all, so we had best make the most of the time we have. It was then that my life's plan unfurled in my mind, and I quickly shed my morose and reflective mood, and APPARATED!!!! to my solicitor Hannson Curmudgeon's office, a business plan taking shape mid-flight.

In the past twenty-four hours I have executed a hostile takeover buyout of the Isle of Drear FROM THE OTHER FAMILY IN QUESTION!!!!, and now am the sole possessor of the Deed of Ownership of the Isle of Drear, and all its many Quintapeds. This is neither the time, nor the situation to elaborate, but suffice it to say I find myself most determined at the prospects ahead of me.

Draco, I knew you would not bear ill will toward me for taking care of business matters before showing you that I can now Apparate, for I saw, once I reclaimed my journal, that your faith in me and my well-being was as strong as it ever has been -- it was good to go it alone. It brings into perspective what one wants when not alone.

There is something I wrote to you many months ago, that I wanted to say again, but when I went back to find the exact words, I noticed the ink in my journal is fast fading. I cannot see anything written before this last Christmas, and December and January's words are very faint.

Anyhow, Sarsparilla misses the lake at Hogwarts, so I'll see you there. Then we can decide where to go -- you do want to go with me, don't you?
Link7 comments|Leave a comment

Purify [Jul. 1st, 2005|11:19 pm]
This Is Now
[Current Mood |triumphant]

Today's events render me sated in a way that I have not experienced in some time.

A little child can never kill this clean, this way. I feel like me today -- tell me, do you feel the same, Ma Bella? Come with me, my love, like our a little child, like the homeless, restless, known to none. You wanted a haven, a place to hide, so I gave you an alibi and took you inside, but a rock and a hard place is all that awaited me.

Bella, remember my face in the fire, in the reptile house?

I held out my arm and my scar started to show, howling for the glory of the pureblooded; do not despair, for shame I know not -- it is but the taste of ash on my tongue, yes?

We served an old man in a dry season, Ma Bella -- a lighthouse keeper in the desert sun. See a body and dream of the dead days, following lost and blind, and tomorrow is hard to glimpse. Doesn't it seem like twenty-fives of promises and give me more? Scenes of things heard previously.

What do we need to make our world come alive?

Bella, we have served an old man in a dry season. First, and last, and always.

First, and last, a
Link2 comments|Leave a comment

(no subject) [Jul. 1st, 2005|04:42 pm]
This Is Now

[Current Mood |crushedcrushed]



Link5 comments|Leave a comment

(no subject) [Jul. 1st, 2005|09:50 am]
This Is Now

I saw it all. I'm older than the fucking hills but I still have my eye and in the end I can say I BLOODY FUCKING SAW IT ALL.

He went straight for Gringotts. Didn't even ask me where the bastard was, he just knew. And when the dirty stinking dark lord sprang out of Gringott's and onto the street Harry barely even flinched, just took cover behind some crates and started fighting.

Then the bastard stopped and said something that made the kid grab his head and scream, like I've seen him do before.

He held his head like that for a minute. Wonder what he was thinking.

Because after that he stepped out from behind the crates and faced the bastard down. They exchanged a few curses, deflected them with shield charms... and then Harry said something to HIM. Whatever it was made the bastard bring his wand up high.

And then Harry flicked his own wand aside. Just dropped it on the ground.

Green light.

What's left of the bastard dark lord is still breathing, but it's also boneless, oozing and... might be able to fit it in a jam jar.

So. I saw the end. Though the rest of you might want to know about it.
Link13 comments|Leave a comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]