I stared in disbelief at the huge crimson train in front of me. Draco had gotten his way and was going to Hogwarts. Sadly, I had failed to get my way, and I was headed towards this wretched school. And then, suddenly I caught sight of a black haired boy, who looked out of place, just like me. I walked towards him, but hesitated. He had a scar. The scar, the one that my father had given him. Slowly, a sinister smile wrapped its way around my lips, and I walked towards him. "Um, excuse me, but… Do you know where I can put my trolley?" I asked, innocently. He looked up at me, and shook his head. He was quite geeky looking, with the big glasses on his face. "Sorry, this is the first time I've been here," He stated, with a halfhearted smile. Well, he was nice enough. "Oh…I suppose I should introduce myself. Govette M--..Adams," I finished, biting my tongue. I had almost said Marvolo. He smiled, and stuck out his hand, which I shook gently before taking my hand back. "Harry Potter, but I suppose you already knew that." He said, with a sigh. "Every one around here seems too." I looked around. He was right. Two girls were not far away, giggling and pointing at him. I felt for him. No, not that way! I felt pity for him. Potter could never get my attentions. We didn't talk that whole year except for once, at the end of the ceremony when I heard he had lived the fight with my father. I remember him walking up, and smiling at me before wishing me a good summer. And that was when it started.
Dear Journal,
This is Govette. I'm writing to you again. Hogwarts hasn't at all been dreadful. I expected it would have been, but I'm looking forward to next term. I find it very odd that there is a boy named Seamus Finnigan who looks exactly like me. I have been keeping a close eye on Harry and his little band of friends, but I fear I haven't been doing very well.
I feel very ill and have been feeling this way since the end of term.
June 23rd.
Dear Journal,
I have to miss this whole term. I've come down with a horrible illness that has been claiming my days and counting my hours by minutes. My father fears the worst.
August 14th.
I didn't write much after that. Everything I had was burned in fear of everyone getting sick with my illness. Thankfully, I was told I was going to be able to return to third term, and now I am no longer reminiscing. This is what is really happening now.