The Fire Within

*IMPORTANT* Okay My beta made this chapter with some of my help. But it was mostly her becuase I really can't write very good diary entries. So here it is. oh and the entries are not necessarily in order. if you have any questions about the order just tell me in the reviews and i'll explain in the next chapter that will be out this weekend or monday.

Chapter 5

Dear Diary,

Silly girl. Sometimes I simply can’t fathom the thoughts that run through my sister’s head. She wastes money on silly trinkets such as stuffed animals and flowers. I don’t know why since we have an entire garden of them back home.

We went to the fair today. It was…Enjoyable. Tell Zohra that and I will deny it with every fiber of my being! Oddly, I don’t think you’ll say a word. We meandered around the square…playing games we haven’t touched since we were seven – winning eachother objects both magical and muggle. My sister won me a cat. Odd, I know, but endearing nonetheless. It supposedly suits me. “Silent and deadly with all the attitude to boot.” I obviously haven’t a clue what she’s spouting off about, and I’m sure you don’t either.

Dear Diary,

Betrayal. A dripping sense of irony that tends to purge you of all emotion. It’s now been 35 years, and I’m supposedly 20. 2 years long finished Hogwarts and she wasn’t even there for the graduation. But then I guess that’s all for the best. For some reason, I don’t find the image of my sister seeing me strung naked to the Hogwarts ceiling enjoyable. However, I could’ve accepted the bitter sweetness of seeing her horrified face. An indication that she still cares for and remembers me. Nevertheless, I must live with the fact that not a day does an owl come bearing me a letter or my floo station hold her lovely face within its depths.

I wish I could hold her…see her warm smile…Tell her about the apprenticeship with Evard Guggenheim I wrote 3 essays and created an advanced form of the pepper up potion to get. He’s brilliant. The man at the end of the finish line who holds within his grasp my trophy. In the 4 months I’ve been studying under Mr. Guggenheim, none of the potions have been as difficult as The Elixir of Life and the Felix Felicis. Time consuming; they both require constant patience and attention. One misstep, and the entire endeavor is blown to smithereens and starting from the beginning will most likely send you tumbling into denial. One does not want to redo the Felix Felicis.

You’re my only companion now, diary. Especially since my sister so obviously doesn’t plan on coming back. I can’t really blame her though. Even I’d leave me. Still hurts.


Dear Diary,

42 years. Is it possible to lose hope? To suddenly find yourself foreign and unfamiliar to great bouts of emotion? I sit among grand rambunctious crowds and yet…I cannot find it with me to crack the smallest smile. I will one day grow old and wrinkly – a man without a single laughing line upon his ugly face. Someone will most likely hex me dead and bury me 6 feet under to avoid staring at my face. A slightly twisted version of “The Tell Tale Heart.”

I can feel it. My mind and soul were degenerating – the slow growth of a black hole budding where my heart used to be. I used to cry. Now I can’t find the feelings to express sadness. I often find myself lashing out. I am embarrassed to say Evard has multiple times found need to force-feed me a calming draught lest I get frustrated and bring down his house. As if he understands, he does not say a word. He thinks he’s obliviated me, but he’s never been much good at legilimancy. I am grateful I’ve never been asked. The shame would be too much. It is difficult enough when he asks me about my family. I must lie and tell him that they are often too busy to come visit me. It’s not technically a lie. The afterworld is, after all an around the clock job.


Dear Diary,

It’s not even that she left. It’s that she lied. She put my hopes up high only to gleefully drop it. My platonic amortencia slipping through her cruel fingers like dirty water from a well. She’s tainted me. Fed me false emotions that I’ve guzzled down like a baby and breast milk.

A part of me wishes she’d return just to prove me wrong, and another part of me wishes I’d never known her. Then I wouldn’t have…

Dear Diary,

The insufferable imp! Stole my hairbrush! Now how am I to prep myself for school! I do not consider myself particularly vain, but that doesn’t mean I must treat myself like a common street urchin and not keep myself well kempt. When I get my hands on her…

Dear Diary,

Is it strange? To live in a body you’ve already experienced, and somehow fail to recognize it? Pale cheeks turn sallow…Soft hair grow greasy. I’ve always suffered from potions fumes, but then again, I’ve always taken care to eliminate from my skin the toxic reminders of my hobby. I gently prod my latest black eye – rummaging around my trunk to find some kind of potion or salve to help me heal it. I found none.

I do not know when I lost control. When I simply seemed to stop caring about myself. A hollow shell of what I was sits here writing to you.

I hope you’re not disappointed.

Dear Diary,

Ssh!

Don’t say a word.

I’ve stolen Zohra’s chocolate herbal essence and don’t intend on giving it back till she finds my hairbrush. Can you believe she lost it? The heathen! I’ll now be forced to use my hand! Do you know what chaos that causes to my hair? Well do you!? I just spent the past 2 hours shampooing, drying, and conditioning it only to find I have to run my FINGERS through it!? Inconceivable!

Oh she’ll pay. Dearly.


Dear Diary,

I did it again. I can’t seem to forget her. The shampoo she uses…The way she likes her morning pancakes (with strawberry, chocolate, and maple syrup on top. A combination certain to give her magic something to fight against) and eggs. Even the scent of her soap has yet to leave my nostrils…and house. I’m obsessed. Odd since one should be obsessed with a love interest. No. I have no love interest. Fate is cruel in not allowing me one. I have only ever had my sister and now…Now she’s gone. I’m afraid, diary. Afraid that one of these days, I’ll willingly hand Potter my wand. Let him do with me as he wishes.


Dear Diary,

I think this is the last time I shall be writing you – burdening you with my pathetic problems. I am sure you’re sick of my whining. So I shall leave you with a poem.

Diving off the edge
Desire has left me
The cold seeping through my bones
And a cold calculating persona taking over

The summer months I find do not warm me
Meaningless that further separate me from the rest.

Strange
Different
Odd…

The sweetness of achievement is bitter
No one to share it with…
No one to keep me functioning.
I have become decrepit
The old man who denies help
Yet oh so desperately needs it
Is tormented by it when the sun slips away
And the darkness falls

Her name is on my lips.
Desperation in the tone of sleepless nights

She promised…
She promised…

I fear there’s no turning back
My one-way street
Dead End


Review answers:


BeckyH: no the category is not incorrect. It is a harry/ Severus. It is just that Zohra is important to the story. Along the way it will be known but soon it will start centering on harry and severus after a certain event that will take place in October of the story. So don’t worry. All will be solved in the end. So if you were expecting harry/severus you will get it. I promise. rather the next chapter will be part Zohra and mostly harry or severus.