June 5, 1938 AD
Today I am eleven years old. My invitation to Hogwarts arrived during breakfast this morning, and Father allowed me to reply almost immediately. I cannot wait to finally see the castle, and I will be able to spend more time with my cousins. They travel quite a bit, and those who are older than me are already attending.
I hope I will be Sorted into Gryffindor, and I hope to make friends on the train. Or, perhaps I will meet someone in Diagon, while Mum and Father and I are shopping for school supplies. I hope they will let me pick out an owl.
I can't wait to finally get my wand from Ollivander. Father tells me that the process is an interesting experience, and I am quite excited. I wonder what wand will choose me.
We have plans to head to Diagon this afternoon. I will write more when I get back. No doubt many people will be in the Alley. Today is the first day letters go out, as long as the receiver is eleven years old.
June 6, 1938 AD
My wand is ebony with the tailfeather of a thunderbird, twelve inches and supple. Ollivander said that I'd be talented with Battle Magic. Father seemed unsurprised by this news.
I also got a tawny owl that I've named Helios for his golden coloring.
Yesterday, I met a boy in Twilfit and Tattings. I never realised how secluded our family is from all the rest, but the Blacks are a big family - though not nearly as large as the Potters - and they are very important. By all accounts, the Blacks are even older than the Potters, though we have more seats on the Wizengamot. But the boy I ran into yesterday was a Black. He introduced himself as Alphard Black, and promised that we would sit together on the train.
I never realised how secluded we are until I stood in front of this boy and it hit me that the only people I know are my family members. I'm sure that the Blacks and Potters are related somehow - it would be difficult to find a family who isn't related to anyone, no matter how distantly - so it is still impressive that I have never seen him before.
September 1, 1938 AD
Alphard kept his word. He found me on the train within the first few minutes of my arrival. Then, he invited me to sit with him and his cousins. There are more Blacks than Potters in our year, with Orion and Lucretia - they are less than a year apart, and Orion is the Heir of the family - as well as Cedrella and Dorea, and of course Alphard. They are all very kind, and when I mentioned that some of my cousins were starting this year, they invited them to their compartment.
Solomon, Cicily and Tatiana accepted, and though we have only known each other for a few hours, I believe we will be great friends.
A talking hat - it is rumored to be Godric Gryffindor's, though I don't know if I believe that - Sorted us. I got into Gryffindor along with my cousins. Alphard and Cedrella got Ravenclaw, the other three got Slytherin.
A Muggle-born was Sorted into Slytherin, as well, and everyone seemed shocked. His name is Tom Riddle. I think I would be worried if I hadn't met Orion and Lucretia and Dorea, but if they're in Slytherin, it can't be as bad as everyone says. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being cunning, is there?
September 7, 1938 AD
I have been to all my classes, and so far they seem interesting. Professor Dumbledore teaches Transfiguration, which I have with the Slytherins. Professor Merrythought teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is with the Ravenclaws. Professor Slughorn teaches Potions, where I see the Slytherins again, and I have Charms with the Hufflepuffs. My cousins and I have agreed to meet with the Blacks to study.
I think this will be a solid friendship. Rea, Tia, Rion, Alphie and Ella seem to enjoy our company. Sol has introduced Holland Longbottom, Jasper and Bilius Weasley, and Ignatius Prewett into our group, while Rion dragged Abraxas Malfoy along one day. He acted as though he didn't want to interact with us, that first day, but he quickly warmed up to our company.
Alphie has mentioned bringing Tyran Lovegood and Timothy Higgs to our study group tomorrow. From what I've seen of them in class, they are perfectly nice, and quite intelligent. From what little I know of politics, I believe that the Lovegoods and Longbottoms are allies of the Potters, as are the Weasleys. In any case, they all have seats on the Wizengamot.
January 1, 1940 AD
Riddle is behaving strangely. None of the Blacks have been able to connect with him, and even Xas says that the boy gives him the creeps.
He stalks through the halls with this sort of dark look in his eyes, and the glares and scowls he can twist his face into can be nerve-wracking. He is altogether unfriendly, maybe even hostile.
I have heard that he lives in an orphanage, and Father says that the Muggles are in the middle of a war right now. I wonder if it as bad as the terrors the Grindelwald brings to our world, or if it is worse. If it is worse, then perhaps Riddle has a reason for his hostility. It must be difficult, growing up exposed to violence, even if it only a fraction of what we experience.
His eyes say that what he has seen is worse than anything we have experienced, but his cold smile covers up his pain. The professors don't notice - even Dumbledore, who is considered very observant by other adults. But I get the feeling that his ignorance is intentional - he pays Riddle no mind, even when the boy is the first to complete a task in Transfigurations.
Riddle acts like he doesn't care, but his eyes - flat and dark and dangerous - say otherwise. He doesn't like being ignored, but he also doesn't like letting people in. As far as I can tell, he has no friends, and he has offered nothing more than his back to Xas' and Rion's offers.
I cannot honestly say I am disappointed. There is something about him… he is too perfect, like he is shattered glass that has been put back together with great effort, so that no one can see the sharp edges.
His birthday was yesterday, I heard. No one - not even he - mentioned it.
July 1, 1940 AD
The Muggles are in the middle of a war.
Mother and Father tell me that they fought in the great war together. They say that they are going to fight in this war, as well.
If I were to cross a boggart right now, it would show me the bloodied corpses of my parents. I cannot think about losing them to the Muggle war.
October 15, 1941 AD
Yesterday, Xas and Rion mentioned the Knights of Walpurgis during our study session. When I asked them about it, they said that Riddle had formed a little group of Purebloods - including Walburga Black, Nott, Lestrange, Carrow, Crabbe, Goyle, Fawley, Zabini, Flint, Macnair.
They couldn't say why Riddle suddenly attracted those Purebloods, just that he had, and the air in the Slytherin common room has become stale and heavy.
Riddle has grown these past years. He may be young, still, but he is dangerous. And he is angry at the world. He hates everyone and everything, including himself. I hope his power never grows; we cannot handle another Dark Lord, not with Grindelwald still causing ruin all over the world.
Despite his youth, Riddle has the power and the anger and the hatred to become a Dark Lord. And I already know whose agenda he would support - despite his blood, Riddle has a special hatred for all things Muggle. I think it is why he hates himself.
December 31, 1943 AD
Students have been turning up petrified for the past few months. They've been found in odd positions, and usually in bathrooms or near windows. The common theme found is that half-bloods and Muggle-borns are the only students being frozen in time.
Myrtle Warren disappeared today. Olive Hornby was mocking her - disparaging her blood and her looks and her magical talent - during DADA this morning. She disappeared after class, and no one saw her for hours.
Likely no one would have seen her for hours if Alphie hadn't told Merrythought that Myrtle was missing. The Professor spoke to Hornby and forced her to go and find Myrtle and apologize. Olive certainly found Myrtle.
Or, rather, she found her body - a mangled mess, with her abdomen severed open and some of her guts missing, according to the Mediwitch who inspected her. It was Myrtle's spirit - her ghost - that found Olive.
Apparently, Olive has been making Myrtle's life miserable since first year. Myrtle is returning the favor; she has made it her mission to drive Olive absolutely insane for her last years at Hogwarts. I can't say I blame her, really.
I passed Riddle on the way to the Great Hall this evening. We were to attend a mourning for Myrtle, and everyone was appropriately depressed. And if they weren't, they hid it well. But Riddle. There was something a little like victory lurking in his dark eyes, a certain twist to his mouth and a set to his features.
Riddle has something to do with Myrtle's death. I don't know what it is, but there's something missing from his expression that's been there since the first time I saw him.
He's not afraid anymore. I don't want to think about why. After all, Riddle's boggart is his own corpse. What does it say that he's not afraid anymore? What does Myrtle have to do with it?
February 1, 1944 AD
I sent Helios to Lord Arcturus Black last week, asking for permission to court Dorea. I received his reply this morning during breakfast, and I'm certain that my enthusiastic response to his permission was surprising - usually I am the perfect picture of Pureblood manners, despite being a halfblood; this morning, my upbringing was nowhere to be seen as I celebrated the permission I had been given.
I asked Dorea if I might court her after I got Lord Black's permission, and she agreed. We have plans to go to Hogsmeade together on the fourteenth of the month.
Our friends congratulated us on our courtship, and all of the Blacks, as well as Abraxas, threatened to castrate me if I dared to hurt Dorea.
I will never do anything to hurt her. I love her far too much, and I am man enough - Gryffindor enough - to admit it.
May 2, 1944 AD
Grindelwald returned to Britain. He attacked my family. For as long as he has been terrorizing the world, the Potter family has been dogging his footsteps, doing their best to prevent his plans.
We were in the way, perhaps his biggest obstacle. We were causing problems, and so he decided to remove his obstacle.
Yesterday was Beltane. Everyone knows that the Potters all join together to celebrate every holiday. And so it was yesterday. Nearly the entire family was at the Manor. My parents and I were out of the country, visiting the Veela, with whom we have an alliance. So we were not present for Beltane. The wards were being renewed, so they were unprotected. And Grindelwald attacked.
My entire family is dead. House Potter was once made up of hundreds of people. Now only three remain. My aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins are gone. Tatiana and Solomon and Cicily and all my little cousins are dead. They were too young.
They're all dead, and I feel numb inside. The bonds I held with each member of the family have snapped. I felt them burn to ash. The only reason madness has not taken me is because the Lord and Lady of House Potter - my father and mother - are not dead, too. If I were the last Potter, madness would surely descend upon my mind because of how much I have lost.
Damn Grindelwald to the pits of hell. I'll fight him and his followers myself. He will not win this war. I'll die before I live in a world where that vile wizard sits upon a throne and rules us.
I want to break something. I want to kill someone.
May 5, 1944 AD
I'll fucking kill Riddle for running his mouth like that. I'll kill him. My family did not deserve to die, and I'll duel anyone who says so.
May 6, 1944 AD
How do people handle this? I want to scream and cry and kill. I want to rip someone's face off or burn them alive.
I can't do this.
It hurts too much.
Why me? Why my family? What did we do wrong? What did we do wrong enough that warrants the death of the entire family?
June 1, 1944 AD
I find myself lost to the abyss. I am a wanderer. I travel through the darkest night.
The darkness is my friend; it hides my tears and muffles my screams.
The darkness is my enemy; it leeches away light and warmth and love. It is the stuff of my nightmares. It follows my footsteps, I cannot leave it behind.
I feel empty, devoid of life, of warmth, of emotion.
How will I survive this?
June 21, 1944 AD
Father, mother and I will send off their souls on the solstice.
There are not even any bodies to bury. They will be immortalized in cold, expressionless stone, just as every other member of our family has been.
Why has death taken my family from me?
June 22, 1944 AD
The Manor is gone, only charred dirt and splinters of wood and collapsed stone and ash stand where it used to be. I cannot bear to look at it.
No doubt mother and father will rebuild it when the dust settles.
At least the Muggle inhabiting the cottages below have not been harmed. They were visiting their families or working while my family celebrated Beltane, and their cottages were left alone - no doubt father had some sort of ward that hid them from wizards - the backlash we would receive if people knew we housed Muggles would be terrible.
I do not want to begrudge them their survival, but I cannot help it. My family is dead, and it's no one's fault but Grindelwald's.
It's difficult not to consider what-ifs, though.
June 23, 1944 AD
I am not strong enough to handle this. We have spent all day carving memories into the stone that walls in the grounds of the Manor.
Our family will protect us when they could not protect themselves.
We have sent the dead into the arms of our ancestors. I pray to Merlin that they find their way to Elysium.
July 1, 1945 AD
The seventh year of Hogwarts is finally finished. Dorea and I are engaged to be married. We plan to bond next month. Her family will be present, as will the broken remains of mine.
We used to be the largest House in Britain - possibly in the world - with the magical strength and political power and money to match. I cannot seem to recover from my family's demise, though I no longer feel numb at the mention.
Some days it hurts to breath. Some days it hurts to live. Some days, I wish I could join my family; surely death is less painful to deal with than loss - especially loss on this scale.
Rea makes it better. It hurts less to live when she is around. I can love when she is by my side. I can breath.
July 5, 1945 AD
Dorea and I have decided to join the fight against Grindelwald.
July 17, 1945 AD
Orion has gone through an abrupt change. Just yesterday, he married his second cousin - Walburga - who he has always despised.
I suspect she slipped him a love potion to trap him in marriage - I can only hope they don't consummate the marriage. Orion will be miserable for the rest of his life if he is trapped in marriage with Walburga because they consummated it.
If there is any mercy in the world, please prevent the consummation.
July 18, 1945 AD
There is no mercy in the world. Orion's marriage is binding, and he will never escape Walburga.
She did indeed give him a love potion, and now that she has gotten her heart's desire, she has stopped giving it to him; Orion is now completely and utterly devastated by his circumstances. He told me that he feels violated.
I want to tear that vile bitch apart.
July 31, 1945 AD
Dorea and I are now married. I feel happy for the first time in months. We have plans to stay in the house in Athens for our honeymoon, and then we will join the fight against Grindelwald.
September 3, 1945 AD
The second Muggle war ended yesterday. From what I hear, they have spent the day rejoicing.
I want to be happy for them.
Grindelwald is back to his old games, and his cruelty is like never before. The end of the war has concerned him, I think. I am glad of it.
November 27, 1945 AD
Grindelwald has finally been defeated. Dumbledore took him down, but not before I managed to curse the wretch.
One of the more terrifying spells the Potters have developed locks one's magic. It is in no way accessible to anyone not of Potter blood - not even spouses. I used it against Grindelwald. The look on his face when he realized that he had had his magic locked up was priceless. This is what he deserves, and I cannot find myself pitying him. Dumbledore insisted that Grindelwald be kept alive.
After what that monster did to my family, I will never forgive Dumbledore for his choices. Grindelwald deserves to be six feet under, but he is locked away from the rest of the world; there is nothing I can do about his fate now.
January 13, 1946 AD
We have discovered something about the magic of wands. My family's wands did not burn with them. Instead, as hope disappeared and the burning began, the wands relocated themselves. The family vault is now hundreds of wand boxes fuller than it was before their demise.
March 21, 1947 AD
Dorea has convinced father and mother and I that it is time to move on. She suggested we begin by rebuilding the Manor, and so we have drawn up plans for it.
We have decided to rebuild the Manor so that it does not resemble itself as it used to be.
It more resembles a castle. It is massive - excessively so - and each of the four sides is different from the others, though they are different in a way that adds to the beauty. Mother and father have also added a guest house onto the lands, though I do not know their reasoning; our family is no longer large enough for such extravagances to be necessary.
All in all, the plans for the Manor are lovely, and I find myself excited to build and protect it. Everything about it will be better than it was, and it will be protected by the dead, who form a wall around the land.
February 29, 1948 AD
My family took it upon themselves to build the new Manor. The Goblins offered their assistance, especially with the warding.
Today, we finally finished the building process. The Manor is just as beautiful as I imagined, and with the wall around it, it seems impenetrable. Father and I have begun the warding process, and with the assistance of the Goblins, our wards are perhaps the most advanced this world has ever seen.
We will be finished warding by this evening, and tomorrow we will place the Unplottable spell upon the Manor and it's lands. We will not risk the destruction of our ancestral home again; we will not even risk the notion of it - only my family and the Goblins are aware of its existence. Even the Blacks are not entirely aware of it, though I intend to tell my friends at some point.
I hope that they will celebrate the rebirth of this home with us.
May 1, 1948 AD
Dorea and I have been struggling to conceive. If we cannot, I will blood adopt a child; our family will not die out with me.
November 3, 1959 AD
Walburga has given birth to a son. The boy is named Sirius Orion, and Orion has asked that I be his Godfather, and Dorea his Godmother. We have accepted. Orion is Godfather to Abraxas' boy, who was born a few years ago.
Dorea is pregnant, and it is especially delicate. She has been sick a great deal lately. I worry for her health.
March 27, 1960 AD
Dorea gave birth today. James Charlus Potter is now the heir to our family. Alphie and Lucretia are his Godparents. Our friends visited the Manor today to congratulate us.
I have never been so happy in my life.
June 13, 1965 AD
My father has contracted Dragon Pox. A Healer from Saint Mungo's arrived today to bring him to a sterile ward.
Mother is getting old, especially for a Muggle. The stress of father's condition may prove to be too much for her delicate state.
I do not know if I will be able to handle their deaths.
September 13, 1965 AD
Mother and father have passed away. I can only thank Merlin that the bonds between our family are so fragile that I did not feel them die. I do not think I could have survived it.
I have buried their ashes under one of the ebony trees lining the property. Their names have joined the rest of the family's on the wall.
March 7, 1967 AD
Dorea has been making fun of my hair since the day we met. I have spent the past few years trying to figure out a way to tame it, but it seems as though very few things work. I finally figured out the right combination of ingredients to make a hair potion for untameable hair.
I have gone to the Goblins with my invention; they will help me get the best price for the stuff. I have named it Sleakeazy's Hair Potion. I think the name is self explanatory.
Perhaps one day I will be able to make a version of it available to Muggles, though the manufacturer would have to be a wizard or a squib or the like, so that I don't completely expose us while trying to make money.
September 1, 1971 AD
Today, James goes to Hogwarts. Dorea and I saw him off on the train. He seemed quite excited. Every magical child looks forward to Hogwarts, and James is no different. He and Sirius will no doubt be the best of friends. I pity their Professors - those boys are trouble.
I hope that all goes well, though I expect I will be hearing from Minerva soon enough. James is bound to cause chaos; it is only a matter of when, and if he will get caught.
I know at some point he will pull out the invisibility cloak. I wonder if I will regret giving it to him.