Mum-
How are you? Like I promised, I’m writing in the first week of the new term. I probably would have written sooner, but with it being seventh year and all, the professors are piling on the work. In the first day I got two foot long essays, one from Slughorn and one from Flitwick. I’ve finished them and everything of course, but I really hope they don’t give us too much work.
When I first got my badge in the mail, you immediately gushed (not that you ever gush, so it was probably just an exuberant discussion) about the dormitory. It’s far more amazing than I ever imagined. Of course, instead of having the gold and scarlet combination you had, I’ve got the green and sliver which I love. James, on the other hand, has the gold and scarlet room. If you can believe it, I think I’ve got dad’s old room.
On the first night that we arrived this term I went to my room and was going to bed when I stubbed my toe on something. When I looked back, there was no furniture or anything that I could have possibly stubbed my toe on, so I immediately thought there must be a concealment charm on whatever I had tripped on. I lifted the charm, of course, and there was a little pried up block of stone. I moved it out of the way and found a little dark green book inside with a snake on the front cover.
Curious, as I can imagine anyone would be, I flicked to the front page and found that the diary was the property of Draco Malfoy. Can you believe it? There was a picture of him from when he was my age, and it’s startling how alike we look. Of course, his hair was shorter and didn’t have the slight curl that your hair gave me, but we have the same face shape, eye shape, skin colour, hair colour, everything! I know that people always say we look alike (I think Fred’s description was the best one: “Basically, you look exactly like him. Oh, except you have boobs”. How eloquent of him, don’t you think?) but I had never seen a photograph of what he looked like at my age other than the one that’s on the mantelpiece at home. In that picture he seems a bit more preoccupied with someone though. Have I ever told you how wonderful you look in that picture? Anyway, the book was a diary of his seventh (though I suppose it would be considered his eighth due to the war. We’re learning about that in History of Magic at the moment) year here and he talks about everything. How he felt at the end of the war, the new school year, how isolated and alone he felt, and then, of course, you.
I finished reading it last night (consider it my bed time reading. I need some new books, by the way.) and, well, he loved you so much, mum. Even back then, when you guys were still young, you were everything to him. In the last entry he said that he would bury it beneath the stone floor and conceal it, saying that it would only be found by someone whom he knew he could trust with his secrets. I suppose he never expected that I would become Head Girl, or that I would even exist, but it happened, and I know it all now. I know how much he adored you and how far he would go to protect you. I don’t know the proper mechanics of truly loving relationships, but I know how strongly he felt about you, and I thought you’d like to know as well.
Speaking of relationships, I’m beginning to question my own with James. I mean, he’s funny, smart, handsome, charming, and everything that a girl should wish for in a relationship, but I don’t know if he’s right for me. Everyone says how good we are together and, though it makes me shudder at the thought, how we should get married, but I’m not entirely sure I want to settle down and marry the first person I kiss. It just doesn’t feel right. And, because this has to be a melodramatic situation where I blow everything out of proportion and you are the onlooker, praying that your daughter will find the right guy some day and settle down in a house with a white picket fence and have 2.4 kids and a dog, I’m thinking about someone else. But I know this someone else would provide great cause to gossip. He isn’t exactly my age. Think three years older than me and working at his dad’s joke shop.
Fred and I have been talking a lot recently, or rather writing. We saw each other in the holidays a lot, but I was always with James and things seemed awkward between us, but through letters it’s far more relaxed. I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to him. He, like James, is funny, charming, damn good looking, smart, but he also has a sense of maturity, and he knows me better than I think I know myself sometimes. It’s ridiculous, childish and girly, but I really am attracted to him. Then there’s still James though, who would probably blow a fuse if he ever found out that I was attracted to someone else whilst I was still in a relationship with him.
James aside, McGonagall decided to start having Hogsmede visits earlier this year, so the first one is tomorrow. James is on patrol for this one, and then he’s going to head back up here for some Quidditch practice (ugh, boys). I’ve talked to Fred and we’ve decided to meet in the Three Broomsticks for his lunch break. He’s working at the Hogsmede branch of the joke shop. I can only hope that it was a joke when he offered to meet me in Madam Puddifoot’s. That place is Hell in shades of pink. I remember when James asked me to accompany him there in fifth year. He couldn’t understand why I was so desperate to leave. He thought it was ‘romantic’. Ew.
Anyway, because you’re my mum and I feel like keeping you up to date, I’m so nervous for tomorrow. Do all teenage girls go through this sort of thing? It kind of, in a way, reminds me of what dad wrote in his diary about the masquerade Halloween ball in your seventh year. Was it romantic? Dad said that you kissed, and that it was the best kiss of his life. Do you want me to send you the diary so you can read it? I thought you might like to read what he said about the night though, so I managed to create a duplicate copy of the entry for you:
October 31
It was perfect. She was perfect. When I first saw her all dressed up, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I never knew how beautiful she was. I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into my arms and keep her as my own, but I feel that would have been rather indecent of me. Instead we proceeded to the Great Hall, as was expected of us. Of course, no one knew who we were, but we got a lot of stares from the people we passed. I wish I could say it was because of me, but Hermione was truly radiant.
As soon as we got into the Hall, we were greeted by the Weaselette and Potter. I had to be on my best behaviour, so I actually shook Potter’s hand. I don’t think anyone was expecting that, but I have to admit, Hermione was beaming. The night was going flawlessly. I had tried to bury the feelings I felt for her deep inside of me, but seeing her like that made it impossible. We danced, we ate, and we were conversing quite cheerfully with Potter and the Weaselette when that utter git, the Weasel himself saw us holding hands, and decided that making a scene would be the way to make the evening amazing. He stormed over, tried to get me to back off, I didn’t and he left the Hall quite angrily.
Hermione, understandably, was quite tense, so I got her to dance until it became too hot in the Hall for the both of us. We left into the gardens, and that’s when everything became incredible. We kissed. I never for a moment thought that I would be kissing Hermione Granger, but I did, and it was indescribable. Everything was perfect. She was perfect. The scene was perfect. The kiss was perfect. I’ve kissed a fair few girls in my lifetime, but there is no doubt in my mind that this was something special, that this was more than just a kiss.
But I suppose that everything comes to an end. We broke apart and went back into the Hall before returning here shortly afterwards, and now I’m in my room listening to the water in bathroom run and her sobs. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, and I don’t know why I care so much. She’s been in the shower for over an hour now. Is she trying to drown herself?
That’s the end of it. I know the reason for your excessively long shower now, but poor dad. He mustn’t have had any idea about it. There’s an entry a couple pages later where he was just berating himself the entire time, but there was no mention of why. Care to share, mum?
Anyway, it’s getting late and I have to be up to get ready for tomorrow with Fred. I’m so nervous, even though I know it isn’t a proper date. He’s too old for me, and why would he be interested in me anyway?
Lots of love,
Charlotte
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment