Refus : Les sept chroniques de Harry Potter ont été conçues et écrites par Joanne K. Rowling.
July 25, 1993
Dear Journal,
Summer is fine.
You know what's interesting? Those Weasels have won a Wizard lottery and -instead of investing or saving or home improving or anything wise like that- have decided to go on an expensive month vacation in Egypt and then return to their lives in poverty. What a strange world.
The business of my father's job is kind of cleared up. Even with his loss, he still retained a heavy influence in the Ministry, which he reinforced by way of a few donations to St. Mungo's.
He has a lot more free time, however, so he roams around the house doing whatever Mother requests of him. Once I was just reading my book on the dining table when he cried aloud, having burnt himself cooking dinner. There's a lot to do these days, since Dobby is gone and most house elves already have work. Speaking of Dobby, I never really found out what happened to him...
To draw attention away from the burnt digit on his left hand, he pointed, with his spoon, at the book I was reading. Or rather, rereading. "What is that?" he asked.
For a moment I considered saying "a book," but realized that could be flippant. So I said, "a book I'm reading." I then realized how similar that response was, but it was too late to take it back.
Father rolled his eyes at me. I elaborated. "I'm researching for an essay for History of Magic. About Merlin's life." He accepted that and didn't force me to help him cook. However, Mother is much wiser in that matter and made me cook later anyway.
Home EC should be taught at Hogwarts,
DLM
August 16, 1993
Dear Journal,
Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban a few weeks ago. I asked Father if he had had anything to do with it, and he quickly denied it. Funnily enough, it didn't really seem like he was lying. I pressed on. "Did you know him?" "How on earth would I know him?" he replied, not missing a beat and with a small twitch of his lips. Although he was amused, he was strangely enough still quite sirius. I mean, serious. Whatever.
Father is probably not getting me a firebolt. It would be inconsiderate, in the current circumstances, to request selling our house to pay for a heavenly broomstick.
It would've been amazing,
DLM
September 1, 1993
Dear Journal,
We also have yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I stayed away from Potter and friends because they were basking in the shabby, snoring protection of the poor professor. I suppose this professor is so poor he will take the cursed jb just to get a bit of salary.
Now, time for a dramatic tale I call Tale of the Tragic Trainride:
The Hogwarts Express darts down the railroad tracks, a silver blur of light and laughter, until it creaks down and stumbles to a dramatic halt. A dark figure approaches the window, and from under its hood takes a long breath of the savory joy emitted from the raucous children occupying the vessel. A certain handsome white-blond boy with pale cheeks feels an iron hand grip his heart and squeeze out the happiness of his life. Suddenly, he feels young and confused as a dark shadow defends. "No, Draco!" his father cries sharply at him... he begins to sob, for he fears no one loves him anymore, but then he discovers something much, much worse... A white, distorted face, as if doused in acid, laughs inhumanly and inhumanely as his cries increase in volume, until they aren't just his cries, but those of someone else, someone he doesn't know very well at all... in a strange flash of underage, uncontrollable wizardry, he descends into the woman's memory... an anguished cry coming from a dying mound of mud... weak stomachs growling at frightened babes... and the same crying, unceasing, from his own fat, flushed throat... after all, it isn't so bad, is it, if his father never loves him... the pain of the pain of others... lost empathy, lost virtue... what is the point of it all? what mark could he leave on the world? not anything good... never anything good... no mark other than a dark, dark one... who would even see it, if there was... why.... why is it so..... it shouldn't be...... The hooded thing approached closer, opening its mouth for an even longer breath, to take in more than happiness, maybe a few lost souls...
And with, that, I ran from the dementor wildly into a nearby cabin, which was unfortunately occupied by Identical Weasels. To hide my confusion, I just scurried out again, hoping they didn't see my face. In the hallway, I was torn. Finally, I decided to head by the new professor's compartment, where I witnessed the dementor YET CLOSER and Potter out on the floor (soulless? Dare I hope?) and Weasel, Weaselette, Longbottom, and Granger looking as though they were drowning. The new professor had woken up, but that was all I could gather before I bolted back to the Slytherin end.
No one really cared where I had gone (passing over Pansy, of course); they were all trying desperately to regain their stability and breath. I had never even realized I had such a memory of horrifying proportions... I must have been only a few months of age at that time, and the dementor showed it with such terrific clarity. When the blurry memory passed, I half-blocked it out and groped for the door (and ran out). That was really cool -blocking it out. It was so random and instinctive and didn't even work, but the idea amazed me and lightened my spirits enough to get out of there.
Other than that, weather isn't aware that summer's over,
DLM
A/N: Ah, a restful week. Well, here you have it, a few nice summer entries. Draco, instead of making glass disappear and growing back his hair, used Legilimency on a muggle being tortured. AND he randomly found a moment of peace by using Occlumency on the dementor. By the way, no, occlumency does not resist against the power of a dementor. It can dull the effect (or at least, that's how I'll use it) only; I stand by that laughter is the real cure.
Husky713: I'm giving him all my favorites, so I'm glad you enjoy them too! Great readers... er... read alike?
StrawberryGreen: My sincerest apologies, mademoiselle. At least I'm back now!