Harry's diary no 2
Ron where are you? I do not know if I have any more tears to give to you- I am sorry. I am writing this in my diary, hoping with the fools hope that it reaches you somehow. Can people feel love through distance?
Today we have tried to gather intel about where the Death Eaters are planning to do next. It was a dreary task, mainly standing and watching the same god-forsaken house.
Hermione lent me a book – The Odyssey- before she left me again. It has been a while since then; I hate that we have to do this. To be away from each other to be safe, or rather safer. The book is a big tome, exactly like Hermione likes it. I read it when I have nothing else to do, which is often. The opening lines really stuck with me:
(…) tell me how he wandered and was lost
(…)
and where he went, and who he met, the pain
he suffered in the storms at sea, and how
he worked to save his life and bring his men
back home. He failed to keep them safe; poor fools,
Where are our beginnings? Do we have more than one? I remember when me met in the train-compartment. You were sitting there with your goofy smile and sun playing on your hair. Do you still remember how we laughed. How we always laughed together. We had our fights to be sure. We planted roses in each other, and roses have thorns. But those thorns were the exceptions. I remember when you came to me during one Christmas – when the other boys in our dorm had gone down to breakfast – and asked if I had the same feelings towards you as you had towards me. Do you remember how you flushed as deep as our bed hangings, stuttered, was about to walk away. And how I kissed you on your head, hands and everywhere else my lips could reach. I remember how the air became light to breathe. We tumbled in my four-poster bed and played as teenagers did. I remember how we laughed when we cleaned the bedding with our wands, wondering how much some poor houseelf would have to clean.
My bunkbed is so cold without you. An empty space. A question mark.
Do you still live, I hope so. I must believe so. They have not found us so you must have kept faith, preserved our secrets.
Ron where are you? I do not know if I have any more tears to give to you- I am sorry.