Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
AN: Just to clarify, Charlie & Emma graduated from Hogwarts in spring of 1991. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and yes, Draco started Hogwarts and Hayley started Beauxbatons in the fall of 1991.
This part is shorter than average, but I don't want to add "fluff."
9.11.88
One of my goals this school year was to socialize more, my fellow Ravenclaws and I tend to sit together a lot in rooms where the only thing we pay attention to is the book in front of our face. I've been spending some time with a few of the other prefects. There's a Gryffindor I've seen around before. Most of my classes are with Hufflepuffs, so I haven't really gotten to speak to him before.
He told me that he has five little brothers and a little sister. I thought having two little sisters was a lot of work, I can't imagine living in a house that big. He likes to be outdoors, he plays Quidditch, his favorite class is Care of Magical Creatures. And he's cute.
His name is Charlie Weasley. I offered to help him with his charms homework.
9.16.88
I received owls from home today. Blair wrote to inform me that she has precisely 341 days to go before she'll be here, too. Hayley wrote four pages—she's only 8! The first page was a very detailed recount of how she successfully performed her first broomstick spiral. Blair has always been so terrified of flying, so I'm glad Hayley has found that knack, like me. I told her if she keeps practicing, this summer I'll teach her how to play Quidditch. She wants to learn how to be a chaser, just like me. She's going through her look-up-to phase, and I'm glad she's latched onto me and not onto Blair. Blair is sweet, but she's so fussy.
Speaking of Quidditch, I'm Captain this year. It's kind of funny because my new friend, Charlie, is Captain of the Gryffindor team. He's a seeker, though—a great one. When we played Gryffindor last year, he pulled the most amazing dive to catch the snitch. It won them the game, too. I don't know when we'll play Gryffindor this year, but I hope, whatever the outcome, it doesn't ruin our friendship.
I think I like him…like-like him.
9.20.88
The first Hogsmeade trip is coming up soon. As prefects, we'll be expected to make sure none of the younger students are getting into trouble. They've divided it into shifts, so we'll all get some free time to shop. I'm going to look for a birthday present for Blair, she's 11 this year! I thought about getting her a Hogwarts memento, but I'm not sure what house she'll sort into.
I'm worried that she'll follow the family tradition and end up in Slytherin. It's not as bad as it used to be…but I still hope that she finds herself somewhere else. Hayley, though, she'll be sorted into Ravenclaw, like me, or maybe, she'll go a step further in rebellion and find herself in Gryffindor. I'd love to see the look on my Mother's face if that day were ever to come.
I pulled myself from the journal. Emma thought I'd be in Gryffindor? What would make her think that? I tried to find a further explanation, but the entry ended there. I skimmed over the next few entries, trying to find the next mention of Charlie. Several months later, he popped up again.
2.4.89
There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up the Saturday after Valentine's Day, the 18th. They just posted it this morning in the common room. Something unimaginable happened. Charlie Weasley found me after lunch in the library and asked if I would be his Valentine. He's taking me on a date. An actual date to the three broomsticks for Valentine's Day! And maybe it is a bit cheesy that it'll be our first date, my first ever date falling on the most romantic holiday of the year, but my logic can't be reasoned with. I am floating on cloud nine. Nargles have completely taken over my brain and I don't care. I have a date with Charlie Weasley.
There's only a tiny pang of regret in the back of my mind—I can't share this with my Mom. My friend Tonks keeps urging me to write her, to share this pivotal moment with her. But she doesn't understand. My Mom won't understand.
2.12.89
My classes have been stressful lately, so I haven't had a lot of free time which is good, because in the free time I do find, I seem to obsess incessantly over what to wear on Saturday! I've exhausted all of the options in my closet—not that Mum lets me wear much that isn't in dark colors. Tonks has a lot of pink. Maybe I'll raid her closet.
2.14.89
Well, it's almost the 15th, but I wanted to squeeze this in before bed. Charlie brought the most gorgeous lilies. They only open up in moonlight. I set them in the window next to my bed, and it is almost impossible to stop looking at them.
I never knew this, but Tonks' Mum is Narcissa Malfoy's sister. Before she married Tonks' Dad, she was a Black. Tonks has told her Mum about me, and she knows what it's like to be the black sheep in the family. She sent me a Valentine's gift—some candy, some cute wire heart earrings that she made herself, and a pair of black sheer tights with big solid white hearts all over them. It was really sweet and thoughtful of her.
The clothing debacle has been fixed—Tonks offered to lend me a really cute pink skirt I can wear with the tights and the earrings. Now that's out of the way, I'm so excited for Saturday!
2.19.89
He kissed me.
Reading Emma's journal felt the same as if I were reading a romance novel. I was eager to read on, to figure out more of her mysterious past, but the sun had started to slope towards the end of the earth, and my mother had invited the Flint's, last minute, to join us for dinner.
It was hard to pry my eyes from the photograph—all of the portraits of Emma had been stripped when my parents disowned her. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her until now, seeing her face again. The photo became my bookmark, I wedged it in the spot I'd stopped reading and headed back into my room.
A few years before, my Grandmummy had given me a small coin purse that she had magically altered to fit whatever I put into it. She'd said at the time one day, I'd want to hide things from my mother in it. At first, that was stolen sweets she'd forbidden me from eating. It was the perfect place for Emma's journal.
After I felt confident my mother would never find the purse, I moved to the other side of my closet. There was a noticeable line down the racks—clothes I'd picked out in France, without my Mother and the clothes my Mother had picked out for me.
Unable to shake what Emma had written, I find that my eyes kept darting back to a red dress I had picked out myself. It was long sleeved, and high cut in the front. The back dipped down into a deep v, tying into a bow where it connected with the bell skirt. My mother's objection when she saw it was that it was too much of a Gryffindor red.
By that point, I'm too committed to the rebellion to stop myself. My outfit is completed with a pair of gold and pearl drop earrings, a matched bracelet and a pair of gold Kate Spade flats. I kept my hair naturally parted and pinned back pieces so it hangs over my shoulder, showing off my bare, tanner than normal back.
Like when I was in America, I applied my makeup to play to my bronzed complexion, the blonde hues in my hair but opted to keep my eyes as I always dress them up—a bit of contouring and a heavily drawn wing. I've just swiped my lips with a cherry stain when there's a knock on the door.
Hurriedly, I crossed the room to unlock it. My Mother recoiled from the frame as she took in my appearance. There's enough different about me for it to be disconcerting, but not enough that she'd be able to pinpoint down how I had disobeyed her. That's what was most brilliant of all.
"The Flints have arrived," She informed, still looking me over, "Why aren't you wearing your engagement ring?"
"I didn't—" …remember that he'd given me one.
"Well put it on, and hurry to the lounge. Marcus is quite excited to see you."
It was impossible not to roll my eyes at her back. I'd left the ring in my suitcase—or at least I'd thought I had…but the pocket I recalled leaving it in was empty.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I attempted to remember where I'd put the ring.
Had I put it in my purse?
Thankfully, it's nestled safely inside of its box, zipped in the inside pocket. I never remembered to zip that pocket, and notoriously lost things from it all the time.
I can't believe I put it there, let alone zipped it in…
I shook it off—the last few days had been a whirlwind. Clearly, I'd forgotten. Popping the lid to the box, I wrestled the ring from the velvet, sliding it onto my finger. A voice in the back of my head pointed out that I hadn't tried it on yet…
I'm surprised at how it looks on my finger, and even more so at how much I liked looking at it there. Why had I not tried it on before? The stones so heavily adorned the band; my whole knuckle was almost covered. It was ostentatious, showy—the perfect ring for a pureblood bride. I was engaged! Why had I not wanted to show this off?
Looking down at the ring made my head fill with images of my fiancé—Marcus. It had been so long since I'd seen him last. He was downstairs, waiting to see me. I peeked over my shoulder into my vanity mirror, affirmed that I was as gorgeous as I could make myself, and hurried out of my room to head downstairs to see my beloved.