Everything In A Word

Disclaimer: See chapter one.
Author’s note: Sorry it’s been so long! I thought that I had put up more chapters and when I went to check I hadn’t! I had a DOH! moment! :P I also apologize for it being such a short chapter!

September 20th, 1975
It’s Fifth year now, and I guess I haven’t written all that much at all. I wonder why I even got this journal. I only write in it when something important happens anyhow, and I guess that this counts. James and I figured out how to transform ourselves into animals. We did it to help Remus. We all felt terrible about what happens to him every month, and we decided that we needed to do something to help.

I am a large, black dog resembling the grim, earning the name Padfoot. James a Stag (Prongs), and Peter, with tons of help from James and myself, was able to become a common garden rat earned himself the nickname Wormtail. There is something about his other form that bothers me. One’s animagus form is meant to reflect on the personality of the real person. A rat? Any way it probably doesn’t mean anything. I’m just being paranoid. Remus, as we all know to be a werewolf, is Moony.

Anyway… As time has past, I have change as well. You don’t really notice getting taller or becoming smarter until you really think about it like I am now. I am a different person than I was two years ago and I like to think that it is for the better.

I like to be by myself a lot now. I spend the time I’m not hanging with the guys, alone, holed up somewhere. My tastes in things have evolved as well. I no longer abhor coffee, but now drink it as though it is a nectar of the gods. Also, I find myself reading more than I might have before. I used to put it off as something boring, but now I carry a book with me to most of my classes. I like reading muggle books about witchcraft and laughing at all the inaccuracies. Mysteries also appeal to me because I like to figure out who did the crime before the end and then check to see if I’m right.

Now that I really think about it, I’ve become more like Moony than James. Sure, we all like to joke around and torment Snivellus, but I think that I would rather read than run around some days. Which brings me to another point. I have found a calling that truly draws me in: writing.

I love to write anything. Poems, stories, articles, (I think I wrote someone’s obituary once as a joke). I love unfolding a story, introducing the main players, and throwing them into a scheme that they have little chance of crawling out of. That’s my favorite part in the whole process

Continuing on filling you in… I have this tree. Yes I know it’s cliché, but it’s so secluded that it is really a great place to hang out. I always went to my tree at around 3 in the afternoon if I could. Some days I had Quidditch practice. I play Beater for the Gryffindor team. James talked me into it.

I was having the worst day of my life.

First it was raining when I got to the great hall. That always predicts a bad day for me. I don’t know why but it always works out that way. Don’t get me wrong, I love the rain, but I always seem to have my worst days when it rains. Then when my friends and I sat down in Transfiguration, I went to pull out my essay that was due and James spilled his ink all over it. Could my day really get any worse? I have now learned to never ask that.

Snivellus decided to get us back for the hula-dancing incident last week, and slipped something into my potion that turned it hot pink. It was supposed to be green. Yeah, I failed that class if you didn’t get that. After potions we had lunch, so I decided I was going to skip classes to avoid any more incidents, and head towards my tree, even though it was raining. The rain is so nice when it hits the lake, its pattering against the surface is calming at a very base level.

I threw my bag to Moony and told James that I’d be back later. That wouldn’t be that hard. It’s not like I was skipping anything really important, just History of magic, and if anyone asked, my friends would cover for me. They never questioned me on where I always went, so I never really had to explain what I’m explaining here. I was really looking forward to taking a nap there, or maybe just sitting there listening to the rain until I was too cold to remain.

I ran as fast as I could to my spot and when I got there, there was girl sitting right where I always sit! The nerve!

“ Excuse me!” I said, “ But I do believe that you are in my spot.” The girl jumped in surprise and replied:

“I don’t see your name on it. Anyway… I was here first and if that bothers you so much… Go somewhere else.” She snapped at me with a glare. “Thanks.”

“What?” I replied. Was she thanking me prematurely as if I was just going to leave? I’m still a pureblood heir, and no one talks to us like that. I may be a black sheep, but I was still raised according to tradition.

“When you startled me, I jerked my brush and now my painting is ruined. She sounded almost weary. “Now I have to start over.”

“What are you painting?” I asked sitting down next to. Smart girl had placed a waterproofing spell on the ground and made a kind of bubble so she was perfectly dry. Her face shifted into a slight frown when I pressed a little closer to her to look over her arm at the canvas. I was genuinely curious about her painting. I snuck a look at it before she wiped the canvas clean with a well-placed stripping spell. It was a rough picture of the lake with the storm disrupting the smooth surface.

“Nothing. It wasn’t very good anyway. I’ve tried painting this three times but it keeps getting messed-up. Now might I ask why you are still here?” She asked, her hazel eyes holding a questioning gaze with mine.

“Jeez no need to get huffy. This is my tree to you know.” I said getting kind of annoyed. “Have I seen you before? You look familiar.”

“ Uhh… Duh! I’m in the same year as you.” This was about when I realized that I’m not as observant as I thought I was.

“Why haven’t I seen you before?” I asked, cringing at my own stupidity.

“I don’t know. I’m in a bunch of your classes.” She replied with a frustrated edge, getting out her paint and brushes, “Maybe you aren’t very observant. Now if you will excuse me I need to try to get some of this painting done again before the rain stops and I have to try to paint from memory.”

“Oh! I know who you are. You’re that girl who sits by the hearth and sketches in a notebook that you carry everywhere.”

“I ‘ave a name you know.” She snapped, a French accent forming in her words. “And eet’s Mita Cadmus! Use it!”

“Sorry! Might I watch you paint?” She’s French? This is THE official note that I’m writing to myself to find out more about Mita Cadmus.

“I can’t stop you if you really want to stay.” She said with a sigh. “Just don’t touch me!”

“Okay.” I replied as I scooched back a little from her. It was just far enough that I wasn’t touching her, but I could still see everything clearly. “So when did you start to paint?”

I saw the knuckles of her hand gripping the brush turn white. “Since I was five. Now,” she grated out, “no talking either or, so help me, I will hex you.”

I raised my hands and pretended to lock my mouth shut. With nothing else to do, I pulled out you. I can only hope she’s not reading over my shoulder… I also hope she doesn’t tell anyone.

“Sirius Black a writer? The world would never guess.” She said after she glanced over. I looked up just in time to see her head move back to its original position, he eyes rolling. Now I have to show her. She’s underestimated me! No one underestimates a Marauder! But what am I going to write? I mean I can’t exactly show you to her. I’ve written only a little in here, but there are some important things that I’m sure no else should see.

I glared a bit in return before turning back as well. I’m coming back tomorrow to reclaim my tree. A moody little girl isn’t going to push me out of my special spot. She just glared right back. I glared over her shoulder at the canvas once more and was astonished to see the painting taking shape once more. The blend of blues, blacks, and greys, seemingly random at first, were forming into waves and storm clouds in a more dramatic form of the storm overhead right now.

I’m guessing from all the glaring between us, that this is going to be the start of a wonderful friendship.