(Not all diary entry, don't worry. As usual, bold diary, normal is Missie's writing)

Howdy!

Hello Missie. What brings you around? You haven't come to write in ages. It does get rather boring being a journal and all. It isn't very polite to only write once or twice a month or so. In fact-

Quit whining. You sound like such a stuffed shirt instead of a notebook.

I highly resent that remark.

You mean resemble.

Humph.

Well you don't need to get all miffed on me. Yeesh, don't have a cow. Anyhoo, the spell went through, now we only have to wait…. Those majicks were really tiring, I slept for almost 30 hours afterwards. Mr. Snape was being very… um, snappy. And yet, according to Hare,

Huh? What…?

Harry, that was an incredibly chipper mood for him. *shudders* I wouldn't want to know him on a day where everything was pissing him off to an extreme. I can't believe Reemie-

I can't believe you call your father by his Christian name and get away with it.

Bite me.

Ow! Not literally! Ouch… don't shut yourself on my hand again! Well anyhoo, I can't believe he and Harry's mum (my Aunt Lily) did the nasty. That's a bit disturbing.

I'm sick of writing-

Already?

*Sourly* Jewlz was right when she told me you diaries were rude. But I'm going to go and use our pensieve for the rest of my thoughts… like with the ceremony. See ya'.

I don't have eyes, Missie, how could I see you? Hey wait! Why are you shutting the cover on me! You evil, wicked, little gir-

Missie walked out of her bedroom after shutting the diary and headed towards the library; a place she seldom went. Sure she liked to read now and then, but she wasn't a bookworm, and much preferred her Marvin the Mad Muggle comics to the dusty novels. It was the middle of the night, so she had to be especially quiet not to disturb anyone. Tiptoeing to the back of the small yet informative and quaint library room, she went to the bookcase in the rear and ran a finger along the books' spines, reading the labels.

Direct Divining… no.

Muggles' Own Magic; Electricity… uh uh.

Flight of Nasha; A Pegasus's Story… no.

Too Many Potion Makers Ruins the Brew… nope, not it.

Narnia Chronicles: 1-7… that isn't it either, good books though.

Lord of the Rings; all three side by side, definitely not, but Legolas sure sounds like a hot elf.

Collection of Poetry…? As if.

Carpe Diem… bingo.

Missie tugged on the book, causing a small compartment to pop out from the bottom shelf of the bookcase and she opened the door to it, revealing a small hole that was quite a bit deep, at least sixteen centimeters. Missie plunged her wand in, tip first, she then started twisting it to various degrees, like a muggle combination-lock without the numbers. After a small 'click'ing sound had been heard by her ears, she whispered, 'Aphrezhunta', which caused the compartment pop back into place, causing another, larger one, come out from the bookcase next to it.

On the top of it, an intricate pattern had been engraved into the cedar wood. She took her wand a traced out a certain trail in it, not filling in every gap, only some, which caused that part of the groove to illuminate with a soft glow. A 'snap' was heard and the top retracted, displaying a whole mess of goodies in the drawer. Missie pulled out a silver coloured bowl with an odd liquid-y substance floating around inside, which had been resting among other various odds and ends. After Missie had kicked the compartment shut, she set the basin, the pensieve, upon one of the two tables in the room and sank slowly southward into a chair. [*1]

Missie lifted her wand to her forehead, then clearly concentrating, a long thin silvery thread of magic came pulsing from her forehead, trailing with her wand, and ended up in the pensieve. She swirled the contents with her wand and images started appearing.

A shocked girl with mousy brown hair had a large 'O' of surprise splayed across her face. Beside her, trembling, was another girl; she too had the same expression of surprise and horror on her face, but she had a dark coal coloured hair, black as anything.

And standing in front of them was a tall man, his black, tangled, mess of hair, down to his elbows. It was dirty and matted and looked as though it hadn't seen a brush or comb years… which, incidentally, it hadn't.

"Who-who are y-y-you?" the girl with the black hair, Juliana, stuttered in shock. Missie remained somewhat calm… somewhat. Or at least she was until he finally spoke.

"Sirius Black." He stated it plainly, as if he were just another Ordinary Joe on the street. Juliana gasped, and Missie's eyes burst wide, shocked, and she looked ready to call 'help'.

A grim smile played across Missie's face. Wrong memory… not such a bad one… but wrong nonetheless. She swirled the contents around a bit more and finally a scene in the living room came into play. She placed her finger in the silver substance, letting it suck her into the memory.

[1] I'm in the process of moving and my 4th book is packed and I haven't read it in like, four months, so I seem to have forgotten some details… (I think). Sorry if the info is inaccurate.

Plz review, I find it easier to write if I know people like my story, so plz make the author happy. Happier the author, faster chapters come out, catch my drift? Sorry for the short length, but I wanted to separate the scenes. Watch out! The drawer and what's inside comes into play later in the ficcy! ^.*