These characters, however little a part they play in her canon, belong to J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter series. This story is written in journal from the point-of-view of Albus Potter, younger son of Harry Potter. All grammar and spelling of terms is confined to the character in question.
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Boys of this Chapter~ (NOTE: all characters are third generation Potter alternative canon)
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-Louis Weasley: son of Bill and Fleur Weasley, seventh year Hogwarts
-James Potter II: son of Harry and Ginny Potter, sixth year Hogwarts
-Albus Potter: son of Harry and Ginny Potter, fifth year Hogwarts
-Charles Garely: son of Carol and Jessie Garely, sixth year Hogwarts
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Second Entry
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I REPEAT: This WILL NOT be one of those stalker/lonely-lover novels where the girl doesn't know the guy actually likes her. I can't define how I feel for Louis. Louis is a distant relative but a close one. I share many memories of Louis's love and kindness very fondly in my past. I can't put a pin on what I want. All I can say is he's the most fascinating guy I've ever met.
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The assumption I stalk Louis because I love him is what I find would be the worst thing someone could extrapolate if one were to find out about my…thoughtful investigation.
I'm not love-sick for Louis. Louis is more of a pet project of mine; a curious case that has more than perked my interest and that is exactly why I want to discover the origin of my fascination. I would brush this off as a passing fling, which I did, however I realized with surprisingly little shock I had actually always been this fascinated with Louie. 'Louie' is the 'proper' pronunciation for his name, by the way. Aunt Fleur has insisted since our childhood we keep the 's' silent, for what reason not even Louis himself understands. Louis never wanted a nickname, or much of anything for that matter. I've become deeply invested in mining through my memories to discover new traits about Louis. I pride myself in being the only one of the boy's 'fans' (if that's what you'll call me) that doesn't need to get close to Louis to find out more about him. Louis has had many problems with women in that regard. One girl, snitch and evil as she was, actually began dating James to get more information about Louis. I wasn't really shocked to hear this, as the girl had been one of Louie's most avid fans years before abruptly throwing herself at James. My brother did not share the thought apparently, and I was the one who gathered his strain in bulk. Suffice to say James was angry with the girl after finding out she couldn't care less about him. It was days before James got over that one.
Yes, I am most privileged to be aware of Louis's many best kept secrets, whether he likes it or not. During most of my summers, the Weasleys and Potters have something of a melting of the pot. Shell cottage had to be expanded to nearly six floors to accommodate every couple and child from either family dating back to Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur. The Potters and Weasleys eventually melded so many of their holiday traditions, we actually began calling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley "granny and boppy", like we were all one big jumbled family. Bill Weasley, however, is usually out during our gatherings. Legend says Bill used to come to the Quidditch World Cup with the gang, but now we only see him with us at Christmas. Maybe he thinks we're scared of him, what with those creepy scars of his…
So Louis is often dumped at Shell Cottage to bunk with the liked of us if Fleur decides she needs to be somewhere or if she gets Ginny to go with her into town to go shopping for the day. Louis has always seemed content with the whole deal as far as anyone's asked him, but I have a feeling he wishes his parents would be more sensitive. I'm also aware of Louie's incessant reading. You wouldn't think an Adonis like Louis would be a book-worm, but then again, you wouldn't think he listens to ABBA either.
Oh, that's right; Louis listens to all the stereotypically emasculating bands and loves them all.
My answer to that is 'who fucking cares'? The fan-girls also wouldn't know of Louis's yearning for the ocean like I do. Louis doesn't show it, but he loves the ocean. Louis might not care for Shell Cottage, but he'll live in a shack if it's next to the ocean. I can see the expression on his face while he walks down the beach with a book in-hand. Louis likes the peaceful things. Most of his fans think Louis has a scarred background and needs or to be so attractive. Unfortunately, Louis wouldn't lie and say he's been around the world, but when he says he and his family spend time in Paris every girl shrieks with interest in the assumption that traveling between two countries makes you a world traveler. Louis doesn't care much for Paris, he says the city is far too busy. Personally, I wish I could live in the city more often, but Mum and Dad are really protective about that sort of thing.
I could list the nuances of Louis's self, but my journal is not for doing that. I already have a notebook that keeps a proper record of all Louie's odd tendencies. People think that simply because a boy pops into a school with a rather bland personality, they can surely say there's something dark behind that façade. Truly, all the fake smile means is that Louis holds a continuing distaste for social contact but endures it with class so that nobody will disturb his peaceful times later on. I'm still waiting to see if that plan has worked, because it seems Hogwarts is NOT the right place to make that conclusion. For some strange reason, Louis doesn't want people to discover he's a book-worm. Maybe he doesn't want his fan-girls trying to mimic that as well, as if reading were such a sacred thing that any use of it for the sake of provoking a relationship would be a debauchery of the form. I find this ironic, as most of the books poor Louie reads are romance.
I am however surprised at the wealth of appreciation Louis has for classical literature, especially plays. Louis loves reading plays; he even showed me one he wrote over the course of three or so years. The idea was not so original, but I thought the way Louis could bend words was sensational. If only Louis was interested in translating that sense of manipulation towards the willing female kind, he'd make a lot of people from both sexes very happy, including his frightened parents. Apparently Fleur thinks the fact the Louis hasn't been 'around the bend' yet is abysmal, and hopes to change that fact by setting him up again and again with super-models that actually seemed quite interested for the most part. The girls that didn't were just playing hard-to-get to pull him in, only to find me giggling when it didn't work.
Somehow, I felt like I knew Louis better than anyone. I can't tell why I feel like I can quantify him so easily, but I just can. I'm continuing to write in this journal while sitting against a tree that is rooted uphill from the big lake around Hogwarts. I'm glad the weekend is always scheduled right after the first day of introduction, because Hogsmeade looks so much more appetizing right before school. I'm not at Hogsmeade luckily, though James would want me to be. Like Louis, I have no desire to make idle chat about rumors or happenings to people. I really don't care about all those things. I'm guessing the only two excuses Louis has for being in Hogsmeade would be either he was taken there via peer-pressure, or some cute girl cried enough and made him emotional enough to reluctantly bring her down there to cheer her up. Otherwise, Louis and I would be laying here killing as much time as possible at peace.
I can write more easily than I can read, sadly enough. When trying expertly to devise a plot of any kind, I flop around the third or fourth minute. I can write continuously however, so I suppose that counts for some sense of commitment to the literary arts. Maybe I can write for a magazine one day, because that's about as much ambition as I'll ever get. God help me when I turn sixty and suddenly realize I let myself go numb around the age of twenty and stayed on auto-pilot all those years.
This is too sad.
I need to go hit something…
And so, the very minutes after writing that were spent traveling to Hagrid's, who greeted me as soon reunited kin. I told him I wanted to do some more training in archery, so he gladly set me up in back with an over-sized bow and a bag of rocks he collected from the forest. The giant told me I came at just the right time, as he needed to go collect some "new agmonitus serum" from some mystic creature and wouldn't be back until a few hours later. The man told me I could just leave everything there and he would collect it all later, even though Hagrid himself knew I wouldn't keep anything out to be stolen.
Soon enough, my forearm and shoulder were aching from shooting the powerful arrows. I had gone through all the arrows and striped the heads off, as not to waste them. It seems like every time I come out to practice, I have to re-learn everything I learned twelve times ago. Hagrid says it simply takes time to get everything in order, but I beg to differ with a lot of the things he says.
Interestingly enough, my trip back to the tree did not go without pleasant surprises. I find a partial vela-blooded man lying there with a pornographic novel against his breast and decided to let him have his rest. I instead opted to lie down near him on the grass. The boy would know I was there and aware of him when we woke up, for I knew him to be at least that smart. I didn't have time to think on it much, as the very boy stirred awake almost the moment I sat down. I hesitated in confronting him, but my doubts were soon washed out when he greeted me. I turned around to watch his glorious self, and that soft smile was on his face that made me a little fuzzy inside. Only Louis could make that happen, but then again, Louis was a mob of people's 'only one'. I chatted him up a bit after his vain attempt to hide his lewd literature. After explaining to him that I didn't care, the man opted to loosen up a bit and let it slide.
After our silent agreement to stop talking, I laid near him for nearly two hours awake. I was thoroughly surprised the man didn't leave during all that time. Louis even left with me as I got up to leave. He followed me back to the slytherin dorms and parted ways in complete silence. Neither of us were trying to play up a 'I don't care about you' act, we just regarded each other with an understanding that must have constituted thanks on both our parts. Maybe avoiding social contact with each other is wrong, however that issue does not concern us at this time in our lives. It seems Louis and I were glad to be in each-other's presence without feelings of awkwardness or expectant feelings of desired but strangely forbidden interaction. That must have been a refreshing feeling for Louie, now that I think about it. With all the unabashed cries for attention he receives every day, maybe my silent presence was something of a hope to him.
Whatever, I'm tired and everybody's coming back now. I need some rest and I want to get a head start so I won't need to experience the snoring chorus again tonight. Merlin knows that never gets any better.
