Thank you for clicking on this fic! Read and enjoy! Also, I just recently passed a few more of my "goals" so in celebration, I'm writing this!
Disclaimer: I am not a genius. (aka J.K. Rowling) Enough said.
~Dear Diary~
A Harry Potter fanfic by
Marie E. Brooke
Dear Diary,
Mummy gave me this book today. When I opened the book, I was very confused. Why would Mummy give me a book with nothing on its pages? Of course, she explained that to me right away; this book was no ordinary book. It was very special. It was called a diary. Doesn't that sound so - here's another good one - sophisticated? See how good I am with words? Mummy tells me that I will become a fine gentleman. She said I have the looks of a heartbreaker too. What's a heartbreaker, Diary? I dunno, but it sounds like an awfully hard word.
Mummy told me to write in you everyday. That seems like a lot of work, but she says that I'm very responsible. I'm not really what that means, diary, but it sounds good. Did you know Mummy said that we could become best friends? Isn't that simply superb?
I like those two words, 'simply superb.' The hissing noises they make almost sound slippery together, and the change of vowels makes it seem crisp and spicy. Simply superb.
It's beautiful.
Mummy's calling me now for dinner. Bye, new best friend!
Dear Diary,
It's really fun at home, playing hide-and-seek with Mummy and such, but the tales Daddy tells me about Hogwarts make me want to go there, too. He says that you make loads of friends there and you get to learn all sorts of spells and if you're good enough, play Quidditch! That sounds so cool! I think I could play Quidditch.
I wish I could go to Hogwarts. Eleven is such a far way away.
But Daddy also said that it was very hard and took immense (look at that big word!) effort and skill. I think I have enough skill, but probably not enough effort. You should know, diary, as I write in you every day.
Dear Diary,
Mummy just took me shopping at Diagon Alley, and I'll tell you, it was amazing. Hundreds - no, thousands of wizards bustled around in brightly colored clothes, stopping briefly to peer at queer shop displays or simply to talk with their friends. You couldn't turn a corner without seeing some witch or wizard Apparating on the spot. Why couldn't they just use the Floo Network, I have no clue, but God was...it was fantabulous! See? I had to make up a word just to describe the sheer beauty of it all. The sound of the chatter nearly burst my ears in half, though. That wasn't very beautiful.
My head only reached Mummy's waist and others knee's, so it took a considerable effort to climb up Mummy's leg, use my own leg to secure my position, and use my only available hand to shove people out of the way (my other hand was still wrapped around Mummy's leg). I couldn't even make out that much, but what I saw wasn't bad at all.
We went over to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor and ate a sandwich and some ice cream. It was delicious. We also went over to the Owlry to get some more food for Tawny, our owl.
Too bad Mummy's going to be busy extremely busy with Minister elections the next few months. And Daddy, too. Oh well. I'll manage somehow.
Dear Diary,
I'm so glad you're here to talk to me, dear Diary, because I am deathly bored here. Mum and Dad are busy with work, and it's only me and Fluffy the cat, but he's always growling and biting people, especially without Mum's Blunting Charms. Besides, it's only so long before you grow tired of reading about a Muggle-killing pot that's covered in warts.
Anyways, I came across a fascinating discovery. I was wandering through our manor, staring at the dull white wallpaper with its plain designs when suddenly, after poking at a portrait of a balding man with a round belly, the walls spun around and I was knocked to the ground.
I recovered quickly enough, though, and pealed my eyes open, rubbing my sore back.
What I saw made my jaw hit the ground.
Tall maghony bookshelves adorned the walls, piled high with books of all colors and sizes. Across from each other were two long, spiraling staircases that led up to the second level, which had a small reading lounge and even more books.
So many books! I ran over to the bookcase, grabbed a random book - A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot - and rushed up the stairs, settling down into a comfortable red sofa to immerse myself into the epic of Gordic and Salazar.
It was wonderful, Diary. Absolutely breathtaking. It was almost as if I was watching Rowena writing in the candlelight, mapping out what would soon be the greatest school in Britan; Hogwarts. I was watching Salazar stab the Sword of Gryffindor into his own brother's back.
I certainly wasn't bored anymore.
Dear Diary,
The elections are finally over. Mum and Dad are now considerably less busy. Thank goodness. I was starting to miss them. Just because I spent most of my time in the library doesn't mean that I wouldn't rather be spending it with Mum or Dad.
Mum also found out about my splurging. So what if I spent a few hundred galleons in Honeydukes? They have some good candy. Besides, they just came out with a new type of candy: explosive sugar pops. They look and taste like heaven.
My mum wasn't pleased about this new development, obviously. "You shouldn't eat so much sweets," she told me sternly, hands on her hips, but I swear on Merlin I saw her thin pick lips stretch into the smallest of smiles. "As some Muggle so wisely said, 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away,'" she quoted proudly.
"Don't Muggle doctors give out candy to their patients?" I quipped.
She just shook her head in exasperation.
My dad, on the other hand, was a totally different story. Reaching into my giant bag of Bertie's Every Flavor Beans, he mumbled between bites, "This is pretty good stuff, you know. I mean, that was very irresponsible of you, young mister," he corrected under Mum's withering gaze, trying (and failing) to look stern. "I'm afraid I must confisicate these, for they are very dangerous for your health," he finished, snatching the bag from my hands. Once Mum's back was turned, he leaned in towards me. "Where did you get these?" he whispered, munching on some more beans.
"Honeydukes," I whispered back.
"Oh." He looked sheepish. "Well, maybe next time you could get me some when I'm at work - I mean, hand them over to me to confiscate," he began awkwardly.
I hushed him. "Don't worry about it, dad," I said with a grin.
"What's going on here?" Mum had approached us, a suspicious look on her face as she surveyed the scene.
"Nothing, honey!" Dad and I gave her innocent (OK, they were flashing 'guilty' in neon lights) smiles until, with one last glance, walked away. Once she had tromped up the stairs, we exchanged hi-fives.
Sorry, I've got to stop. Mum is coming to check on me in about 30 seconds, and I don't want her seeing what I'm writing here.
Dear Diary,
OK, I've got news.
Serious news.
Ready? Now? No? OK...I'll just say it.
My letter arrived.
It was on my 11th birthday, obviously, like most young witches and wizards. My father, my mother and I were sitting at our round living room table, eating vanilla-chocolate-mint chip-cookie dough-rocky road-strawberry ice cream cake from Honeydukes. The unique cake design had only recently come out, and it was at a bargain price. We were chatting aimlessly about random thing: such-and-such broke what's-her-name's wand or whoever took some thingie to someplace.
Then a dark shape soared through our slightly ajar window and landed on my cake, making deep gashes on the cake and getting speckled feathers all over it as well. Its onyx eyes scanned the room. He held out his leg, which had a letter tied to it with a dark silk bow.
We all stood in our places, shocked at what had just happened, for five whole seconds. Then my mother recovered and tried to untie the bow with shaking hands, and soon my dad started to help her and soon we were all tugging at that one little ribbon.
Poor owl.
Anyways, we got that ribbon off soon enough. My mom handed be the letter silently. I opened it, discarding the seal with careful fingers. I knew exactly what was in there before the letter tumbled out.
"Mum," I said quietly, "my Hogwarts letter." Silence. "Mum," I said urgently, "it's my Hogwarts letter. My Hogwarts letter!" I shrieked excitedly, shaking her by her shoulders. "I'm going to Hogwarts!"
My mother shared a look with father before smiling at me. "Yes, honey," she said softly, "your Hogwarts letter." She and my father both started to talk in hushed tones, every so often glancing at me worriedly.
Of course, I was too busy jumping for joy on the tables to really listen. I had just gotten accepted into Hogwarts! Everything was perfect.
Dear Diary,
I was too foolish to believe that was the end of it.
This is probably the last time I'm writing in you.
Not because of me. Well, kind of. But that's not the point.
We were getting ready to go on a long - and what I hoped would be exciting - shopping trip to Diagon Alley. I was eager to get my wand and owl, and of course, my books. I had started to pack a few of my most basic necessities: a toothbrush, some books, Gobstones, etc. I was about to slip you in and finish up when you were snatched rudely away from my clutches.
My mother was towering over me with my diary in her hands. Her stance was defensive, but her eyes were apologetic.
"Ministry procedures. The Death Eaters are rumored to have been enchanting objects such as these. It has to be checked by the Ministry," she said to me, her voice sounding flat. I wonder why.
"How long will it take?" I asked.
"Well..." she started hesitantly, trailing off and shooting me a nervous look.
"What?" I said warily.
"With the huge waiting list we have, it'll take many years. Maybe five," she said dully, looking deep into my eyes, urging me to understand, but how could I understand? She was going to take away my best friend for five years.
"Mom," I pleaded, giving her my best puppy eyes.
Then I realized it.
"You weren't out for elections, were you?" I said in an incredulous whisper. "It was all for checking."
My mother nodded numbly. "They ordered a number of wizards and witches to do the same."
I sunk to the ground, shocked speechless. "No," I choked out. They couldn't take you away from me.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, wrapping an arm around me. My thoughts were too sluggish to push it away.
I wish I could bring you to Hogwarts, diary, but I can't. I wish it so so badly, but I can't. I'm so sorry.
But I'm looking out for the two of us. And you will be there when they're through with you. I promise I'll never forget about you.
Ever.
He finished the last word with a flourish of his quill, and handed it to his waiting mother. Not without signing his name for the first (and last) time, though. His name was there as the two very last words.
GILDEROY LOCKHART
That may have been the fastest one-shot I've written. Two days. Not bad, considering first quarter is ending and I'm being hit by a barrage of tests. If you liked that, REVIEW to show me that you did! ^^
By my magical quill,
Marie E. Brooke
Written for the following challenges:
Battleship II [hosted by TheNextFolchart]: Prompt: "I'm looking out for the two of us/I hope we'll be here when they're through with us." - Long Long Way From Home, Foreigner
Battleship Challenge [hosted by reminiscent-afterthought]: Prompt: "An apple a day keeps the doctor away." - Unknown