January 13
SIR RON
Have I mentioned that I truly cannot stand Hermione Granger?
I seem remember hearing something like that, sir.
Good. I just wanted it to be truly clear that she is absolutely untolerable.
Crystal clear, Master Weasley.
Ah…sir?
Yeah Rupert?
The last time you mentioned the lass it was because of a particularly fine broom… has she committed any new atrocities?
Well… no. Not really. Even though it's been THREE WEEKS since they took Harry's Firebolt and no one seen hide nor hair of it. McGonagall lit into Wood when he tried to talk to her about it. Oh, Rupert, I can only imagine what they're doing to that broom. Two weeks of "stripping it down". It makes my stomach heave just thinking about it. By the time Harry gets it back it probably won't be any better than my broom, and Charlie absolutely wore it out when he was here. It's a crime! And Hermione Granger is the one responsible. I swear if the reverse so much as hiccups when Harry gets it back I'm gonna… I'll just…
Yes…?
Well I don't know what I'll do but it will be bad I promise you that much. You know what really gets me is her attitude. Not only does she not feel sorry for getting the Firebolt taken away, she acts like we should thank her for it. Like she only trying to protect Harry or something.
Is it possible that truly is her purpose?
HEY, whose side are you on? Besides how can she be helping Harry when she the one who's practically driven him to a nervous fit over the broom. If she was really his friend she would understand this was the last thing he needed right now. Oh, and another thing… you know what that snobbish little twit did the other day to get us to talk to her?
How could I sir? I only know what you tell me?
Rupert, couldn't you just play along every once in awhile?
Sorry sir, I will try to do better.
Nevermind. Anyway, Harry and I were talking the other day about one of our professors who seems to get sick a lot and she went off acting like she knew something we didn't. Please, do I have "stupid git" written on my forehead? There's no way I'm going to fall for that one. So Professor Lupin gets sick a lot, he still the coolest DADA teacher we've ever had, she just jealous that he's giving Harry extra lessons and not her, she can't stand to think someone may know more than her.
Extra lesson? Is Mr. Potter having trouble keeping up with his studies? Maybe you should offer to tutor him?
Tutor? Me? Uh… I would, of course, but that's not the kind of help he needs. He said Professor Lupin was going to help him fight the Dementors, some sort of special lesson; that's where he is right now.
Fight Dementors! Young Sir, you promised me you would keep an eye on him and not let him go looking for trouble! What could possess him to wish to fight those demons of the night?
Quit being so dramatic. Harry's not looking to fight the Dementors. To be honest I think he's more afraid of them than the rest of us. It's just… you remember the game I told you about, the one where we got robbed?
Yes, sir.
Well it was because the Dementors actually came onto the field. Professor Lupin is teaching him to fight them in case it happens again… Next time he might not be so lucky…
I really don't want to talk about it. So is it okay if we just drop it, alright?
Perfectly alright, young master.
Err… Sir Weasley… I was thinking… I don't mean to be rude… But if I may be so bold…
What Rupert? Spit it out.
Well I'm not sure if you fully understand the purpose of a journal. I'm not like your other friends, sire—
That's an understatement.
You miss my meaning again. You see the things that you might not feel like talking about to your other friends, such as Mr. Potter… you can tell me.
Who said that there anything I can't tell Harry? We tell each other everything! And anyway, I've had you for less than a month, he's been my friend through thick and thin (and I mean very thick and very thin) for almost three years. Why should I trust you more than him? Besides you didn't even believe me before when I was telling you stuff.
Once again please allow me to apologize profusely for that grave underestimation of your character sir, I will be forever sorry. But the fact remains that a journal's sole purpose is to record the events, no matter how trivial, in your life, and to be an open ear for you to perhaps sort out your thoughts. If you do not feel you can trust me with these duties then I feel that I have let you down in someway.
God, Rupert, you sound like a girl. Feelings, feelings, feelings. Maybe I don't think about all of that stuff, maybe I have more important things on my mind?
Maybe you're afraid that that's when you'll be in danger from me?
I NEVER SAID THAT!
Where would you get that? Unless there's something you're not telling me… should I be worried?
I spoke with Madam Vaulcain. She informed me that the only way a journal could do the things you imply happen to your sister is if someone truly opened up their very deepest feelings to it; and if the journal was properly charmed for that type of evil bidding (which I assure you sir I am NOT). Perhaps you are afraid if you tell me the more intimate details of you thoughts… that I would somehow betray you.
Look, don't get offend. You said it not me. But, yeah, maybe that's part of it. You seem like a nice enough guy and all, but really what's the point in taking the risk, you know?
Sir—
I'm sorry I gotta go….
~*~*~*~
SIR RON
Hey, Rupert, you there?
Where else would I be sir?
Uhm… look I wanted to apologize, for earlier—
Don't say another word about it Master Weasley. It was entirely my fault. I far overstepped my bounds. It was rude, uncalled for, and totally inapporiate. If you could find it in your heart to forgive me sir I would be eternally grateful. I just couldn't bear it if you stopped speaking to me all together, so I will be content with whatever you choose to share with me. With all that I am I swear to you that it will never happen ag—
OY! For once would you just shut up for a minute?
Sorry, sir.
Thank you. Look I was thinking about what you said earlier….
Oh, sir—
I said shut up!
Sorry.
I'm not mad at you. I was, but I'm not now. Well I wasn't even really mad, I don't think. I was… frustrated. No one really ever ask what I think. I mean in my house actions always spoke louder than words, usually because there's always so much going on with many of us. And even if it weren't that, it's really hard to just sit and think at home; what with all the explosions and such from Fred and George's room, or someone always coming in to give me clean laundry or take the dirty laundry, or Ginny wanting me to come play, or Mom wanting me to degnome the garden, or Dad wanting to show some new Muggle gadget he got…
Sounds frustrating, sir.
…Or some really annoying journal, that just doesn't know when to be quiet, intrupting my thoughts…
Point taken sir.
But it's not just all that. I was trying to figure what the hell you meant by "stuff that I might need to sort out", and it struck me as really odd. I mean, what do I have to "sort out". My life's so boring why should it require any sort of thought at all, to most people I'm just "another Weasley" or "Harry Potter's friend". At the same time, I was thinking that maybe I have done so pretty cool stuff (most of which I NEVER want to do again… ask me later about Aragog) and that there is some stuff going on in my life. So if you'll help me I guess I will try my hand at this feelings stuff, even though it does seem a little girly for my taste.
Sir, may I?
Yeah, Rupert, go ahead.
Well sir, you don't need my help. I seems to me that you are very good at reflection on your own…
Really? You mean that's all there is to it? That doesn't seem so bad.
No, sir.
Can I ask you something?
By all means! Please do.
… What do you know about the Dementors?
Oh, sir, they are foul creature the likes of which can be found nowhere else on the planet, thank the stars. Their very presence is enough to rob a man of all the things for which life is worth living. There can be no happiness when they are near only the worst parts of your life to recall; sadness, grief, guilt—
The sound of your Mum and Dad being killed…
What!
Harry… that's what he said he hears whenever the Dementors get close to him. That's why Professor Lupin is giving him those special lessons. He told us about it back at Christmas, right after we found out about Black. I can't imagine what it might be like to hear something like that, no wonder he faints.
The poor boy faints?
Yeah. The first time was on the train to school. The Dementors stopped it before we got here, to do a check or something. It was the creepiest thing. The train stopped and all the lights went out. Suddenly one of them came to our door and everything went cold. It was dark, but not like the dark when the lights go out, more like dark from the inside. It felt like I'd never be happy again. I didn't tell anyone else this… but all I could think about was when I almost lost Ginny last year. I kept thinking she was dead, and it was my fault because I didn't pay attention to her; didn't see the signs. I felt so helpless… so useless. Yet somehow I knew that it wasn't true, in that small part of my mind; like a dark corner you can't quite see but you know it there. It couldn't be because she was sitting right beside me, shaking like a leaf. I don't even want imagine what she was thinking about.
But across from me Harry was sitting. He went real white, almost like if I looked hard enough I could see through him. When the thing made a move to come through the door his eyes rolled up in his head and he just fell out of his seat, he didn't even try to catch himself or anything, he just fell. I can still see it in slow motion in my mind. I reached out to catch him, but it was like moving through water, the air was almost heavy with sadness and I couldn't get to him. So instead I just kinda sank down to my knees and watched him moaning and twitching, thinking he was dying. It felt like it went on forever, but really it was just a moment before Professor Lupin shooed it away, somehow. When he woke up he asked who was screaming… at the time I thought he had just had a really bad dream when he had been uncoinsious, at least that's what I wanted to think. Now, I guess he was hearing that night, when his family was killed. I mean, thank the stars for small favors that he was too young to remember it, but now he has to hear it? It's just not fair!
Young sir, no one ever said that life is fair. It is our ability to deal with these injustices, no matter how large or how small, that makes us who we are. It sounds as though your friend has had more than his share of wrongs in his short life, but I feel he has also had a great helping of favors; if only to able to count you as his friend.
BUT I WAS USELESS! I wanted to, but there was nothing I could do, I was helpless… just like at the Quidditch match…
But what happen at the match, sir?
The same thing… except that time… I really did think he was dead. For one terrible moment I thought I had lost my best friend. I thought that Harry had died and all I did was sit there… and watch.
He almost died? In the match?
Yeah, I told you we lost because the Dementors came. And Harry passes out whenever they get too near him, and there was more than just one this time. So he fainted, except from fifty feet in the air. He just fell straight out of the sky like a stone, hand still reaching for the snitch. I didn't even realize what was happening until it was all over. Our Headmaster caught him magically in mid-air and slowed him down a bit, then chased off the Dementors and brought him to the hospital wing. At first I didn't realize Dumbledore had slowed him down, I thought I was seeing it in slow motion, like some sort of sick dream. I thought, "there's no way anyone can survive a fall from that height, not even Harry Potter; but he has to… he just has to!" And then I just sat there like an idiot watching him lay on the ground not moving. Hermione was sitting next to me, she was crying and grabbing my arm in this vice grip, but I couldn't feel it, I couldn't feel anything… When Dumbledore took him off towards the castle I started chasing him, not really so much to see him… It was almost like I wanted him to stay there, on the field, and then just wake up and move. Somehow watching Dumbledore carry him away on a stretcher was what made it real, that I couldn't just wake up and it be a dream…
So how's that for being such an extraordinary friend. Here he is, laying dead for all I know, and what do I do? NOTHING! I look at him and just hope he moves, hope that one of wakes up! That's useless, and that's what I am—
STOP! Sir, the way you felt does not make you useless. It makes you human, that is all.
Whatever it makes me, I won't let it happen again. That moment, thinking Harry was dead, was probably one of the scariest in my life. Because after seeing those Dementors there and knowing what they did to him on the train… I didn't think there was any way that I could NOT lose him.
I've never had a friend like Harry before, and I probably never will. There aren't many people out there like him. I promise you this Rupert, I won't ever be useless again. I'll never let him go down with out a fight.
There is a shortage of men like yourself in this world young master. Take care that in protecting your friend you do all slight us of the one that already exsist.
Are you still speaking English?
Be careful, sir. That is all I ask.
I will.
You know maybe there's something to this journal thing after all. I feel… lighter. That's weird?
Well g'nite Rupert.
Good night noble sir.