The unfortunate demise of common sense.

(December 21, 2013, 9:44pm)

Throughout life, a single person can accumulate a million things that they regret doing. Some look back on their actions with scorn, believing they could have done things different, if only they were given the knowledge of what the repercussions would be. Other's regret not acting, standing off to the side when they knew their help was needed. Then there are the many who regret both aspects of their life. These unfortunate souls are the ones who, at some point in their life, become disillusioned with society.

I myself am one of these beings.

My life was not at all pleasant, and was often wrought with danger and death. There were times when I believed the weight of destiny too heavy to bear, and I will admit that I broke under pressure in a few instances.

Nearly everything I loved was stolen from me. My family murdered, childhood a wreck, and future non-existent. I treasure what I do have, but it is not enough to sustain my humanity.

Emotions are slowly fading, and even now I can feel them slip through my fingers. There is no one to show me joy, so the thought of experiencing it has become a memory. Anger that simmered for years, now a low ember. The essential part of me that makes me feel human is fading, and simply because there is no one left to make me feel.

I hold no pity for myself. To do so would be folly on everything I believe in. No, I think at the moment I am simply in a stasis, waiting for something to come along that would disrupt the monotony that is my current being.

Those who now lay sleeping in the arms of Death knew me as Harry Potter, my few enemy's that still live know me as Caspian Rathe. A persona I crafted when the danger of not aging became apparent. Nowadays I don't care much anymore, but the name has grown on me, and has evolved into the person I truly am.

There was a time when I believed that by sacrificing myself, my small world would remain untouched by the ravages of war. That by some leap of faith, they would be protected. How naive I was. My sacrifices did nothing to save them, if anything it made things easier for the Death Eaters. And so my family was taken from me, one by one. By the time I had finished the war, there was no one left to celebrate, and I am alone.

Here lays my dilemma. Being alone is such a dreadful experience, and as such I have concocted an experimental theory to remedy that fact. With any luck, this journal will fall into the hands of another who wishes for change, a chance to rid themselves of their regret. Or perhaps it will be as if there never was a journal in the first place, the changes to be wrought upon the time stream are unpredictable to me. I will not take this with me, for no material possessions will pass through. However, no matter what becomes of my dear confident, I wish the reader will become disillusioned of the facade around them.

Over these long years I have met many strange and powerful men, but I have still yet to find one as eccentric and genius as one Jonathan Caldwell. John's a muggle of course, a brilliant physicist with a passion for doing the impossible. Naturally, we got on splendidly together. The two of us, when combined, became an impossible force of intelligence and power. It was his mind that drew me to him, and after a life-saving event, John agreed to help in my endeavor.

At times we thought ourselves insane, but accepted our insanity with open arms. The two of us became brothers, kindred spirits in a world of monotone. What I want to do is the craziest thing I have ever done, and his genius bordering on madness helps greatly.

He and I have gone through many different ideas, and a plethora of failures. It is through these failures we have happened upon what John believes to be, "The lane" or in mundane terms, the road we have been looking for. Our project is complex and intricate, but can be summed up quite efficiently. We have created a temporal rupture in space. A way to travel through different worlds within our dimension with a vague time frame of arrival.

I wish to change things before they begin, a way to prevent myself being born.

Some may think it barbaric, but it is the safest way for things to change. I feel no remorse for my decision. Thousands of years of culture and knowledge was lost through the various magical wars that dotted the years. Most of what I know has been obtained through trial and error. A method that would not have worked if I was mortal. Many of my attempts have caused damage that scarred once beautiful scenery, and so I have perfected the technique needed.

Today shall be my last day on this Earth. For better or worse, I will be somewhere entirely different from here. In a new world with a new perspective. The consequences can be great and far-reaching, but I believe the benefits greatly outweigh the costs.

To whomever comes into ownership of this diary, I wish you luck. And i warn you, though " the lane" is a method of travel, it is unclear whether or not a mortal would survive long enough to make a difference. I implore you to search for a different route, if only you have the time.

Good bye, and Godspeed.