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Apr. 4th, 2008

one drink in a dozen glasses


I'm trying not to think about it. But every time things get too quiet or I shut my eyes, there it is.

I think Muggles equate it to an elephant in the room. It's there, you know it's there, but nobody really wants to mention it because...really, what can you say? It's a bloody big problem that, presumably, will need to be dealt with, only not just now, because nobody's talking about it.

We will. I know that. But it can't happen fast enough for me.

I've been playing too much guitar again. Starting to hope that Tonks was serious about getting that drum set; I could use the distraction.

Bloody hell. A little firewhiskey and this would all be easier. I'm going to have to settle for a few cigarettes.

Jan. 29th, 2008



Washing bleeding fingers again so I don't get blood on the guitar.

I'm not sure yet if this is healthy or not. I feel kind of giddy.

Jan. 28th, 2008



{hexed from Snape}

Is it weird to be in love with an inanimate object? Even if it is, I don't care. I'm not sure this guitar qualifies as inanimate, anyway.

It's strange; I can't seem to put it down. I haven't played since school, but I find myself wanting to play again, wanting to be as good as I was, wanting to have...

Have what? A way to express myself? A way out? A way to escape that doesn't involve stupors and blackouts?

I don't know what I want, but I'm happy. I've been playing until my fingers bleed, and I'm happy. I don't want to lose this feeling.


Jan. 5th, 2008



{hexed from Snape and Molly}

It's strange, being alone. I know it's only for a few days, but it still feels odd to wake up in the morning and have coffee alone, and to fall asleep on the couch with nothing for company but a record or one of those books Moony keeps trying to get me to read.

I'm not having trouble with it, not the way I was afraid I would. Above all, I think, I find it puzzling. I spent so many years alone, and to suddenly find that I'm no longer used to it makes me think about the relationship in a different light.

It's been so long since anything felt even close to as important to me as she does. Without her, what am I? Without her, what is my life really worth?

I've never thought like this before, and I can't decide if I like it or if it scares the hell out of me. Maybe a little of both.


Dec. 15th, 2007


Moving up

{hexed from everyone except Remus, Tonks, and Samantha}

A new flat. Words I never thought I'd be able to utter. Finally free of that dump of a house, finally in a situation where I have some chance at happiness.

My only regret, I suppose, is that James and I never got to be immature adolescent roommates outside of school. Then again, knowing us, we probably would have burned down, blown up, or otherwise decimated anywhere we ended up staying. It was best not to trust us with anything valuable in those days.

Anyway, the flat looks good. The new furniture ought to be delivered within the next couple of days, and I don't think the landlord is ever going to bother us for anything.

No more stinky, dingy, boggart-infested rat trap of a family house. No more of my bloody Mum's bloody portrait flipping out if I walk too loud. Finally, finally, space, and someone I don't mind sharing it with.


{side note, hexed to Molly}

Molly, just so you know, I've moved out of the house. Also I think it would be a good idea for Arthur to come to the next meeting if at all possible. And I'm dying for more of your cookies.


Things are looking up.


Things are looking up.

I had to write it twice to believe it. For once, I don't hate my life. It's a strange, unexpected, but welcome change.

Nov. 16th, 2007



Dear Merlin, sobriety is overrated.

When is this going to end?

Six days and counting. I feel like I'm going to die.

Oct. 29th, 2007



{hexed from non-Order members and Snape}

Much as I try to forget, I remember when the Order started talking about Lily and James having to go into hiding. I remember the first time the words "Fidelius Charm" turned up in conversation. At that moment, I somehow knew that there would come a time, very soon, that I would never see them again. It was like someone dumped a bucket of ice on me, and I couldn't for the life of me explain why. It was a feeling I spent weeks trying to beat back, only to find that I should have listened to it all along.

After today's Daily Prophet, I'm starting to feel the same way. It's only a matter of time before everything closes in on us.

We are well and truly screwed.


Aug. 29th, 2007



{hexed from Snape}

I hate Halloween. All the Muggles running around, laughing, pretending it's some great game, and all I can think about is...that night. Even in Azkaban, when I'd lost track of the days completely, I somehow knew when Halloween was coming. There was an extra chill in the air, an edge to everything, like the world was going to explode again and it was just waiting for the most damaging time.

There's always that edge, every year. It's like having a razor blade drawn across the inside of my skull. I can't avoid it, and I can't ignore it. It's one of the things I've never been able to make go away, no matter how much I drink. It's the worst time of the year to be alone.

I think I'll go out. I can't stand being in this house. Not tonight.


Aug. 18th, 2007


In the dark

{private to self}

I guess it's impossible to get drunk in peace and privacy these days. Next time I find the need to, I'll have to remember to lock myself in one of the bedrooms beforehand. Hangovers are worse when people insisit on being concerned...


{hexed from non-Order members}

This thing with the dementors in the bookshop has me uneasy. It doesn't help that the Daily Prophet keeps reporting inexplicable Muggle deaths and strange patches of cold up near Charing Cross. Just reading about it gives me goosebumps, like there's something bigger going on that we don't understand yet.


It's too dreary for September. The weather's too damp, and the house is too dark. I'd swear there were things whispering in some of the more remote rooms. They're just on the edge of hearing, even if I turn the record player all the way up.

Seems a bit late in the game to be losing my mind.

Jul. 31st, 2007



{hexed from Snape}

I decided to take Molly's advice and start cleaning the house a bit. This was, of course, a lot easier to accomplish once Snivellus's drunk arse was off my kitchen floor. I'll be damned if I let him get rat-arsed here again; that's not what I agreed to.


I think I found where the spiders are coming from. Figures they'd hang out in Regulus's room. I'm not sure whether to laugh or be disgusted. It was hard to get rid of the webs without destroying things or making a huge mess, but I think I did pretty well. That's not a sight I'm keen on seeing ever again.

I finally managed to get rid of that boggart in the upstairs closet, and there was one skulking in the shower in the upstairs bathroom, of all places. I hate those things. I actually prefer it when the fear of the day is dementors; they're easier to deal with than some of the other things I'm apparently afraid of.

The record player has been serving me well. Having music has made it so much easier to sleep. And it gives me something to do when the house is too damn quiet. If I had a coffee maker, I think I'd be set.

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