Out of all the times I saw her,
I saw her as her, and only her.
And as I kept watch – as I observed;
the desire made me hungry,
and the darkness inside me stirred.
Out of all the times I saw her,
I saw me and her – as us – we just were.
And I told her that I was starved;
but then she would just kiss me,
and tell me I was absurd.
The first time I saw her, she'd left her coffee cup on the roof of her car.
Tom blew out a pillar of cigarette smoke from his mouth right as she backed up. She slammed on the brakes and the coffee went flying all over the windshield.
A slow smile curled his lips when he read the obscenities that tumbled out of her mouth. Then, he watched the way her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel, and the way she thumped her head against it in frustration.
"Who's that?" he heard Draco ask.
Tom shrugged a shoulder, then flicked his cigarette butt into the snow. "No idea. Looks like a sub to me."
"A sub? She looks too young to be a sub. She won't last two days."
He shoved his frozen fingers into his pockets, and blew out the last bit of smoke in his lungs into the frigid air. "Of course, she won't. This is Hogwarts," he said, and ran his tongue against the inside of his top row of teeth. "She's going to get eaten alive here."
It had been a rather dull week – a rather boring week, so he was hoping he'd get the chance to do just that.
Dear Diary,
I am known for getting restless in class whenever I get bored. I'm too intelligent for my own good – that's what people have always told me, anyway – that I'm never challenged enough.
And maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not challenged enough. Who knows? It's a pity, really, with how often I get bored. I've always wanted more; I've always needed more.
Which reminds me; what was it that Tolstoy said about boredom? The desire for desires?
Well, I desire more.
Of what; I do not know, but I desire it, just the same.
