Dear Diary,
So…
I don't really know what to start with.
Archie says that it's healthy for me to write my thoughts down. My feelings.
I don't really agree, but my own coping methods don't really seem to be working, so I guess I'll give this a go.
I feel very conflicted nowadays. As though I shouldn't be feeling what I'm feeling. But it's still there, in my heart, and thinking otherwise doesn't invalidate it.
I'm talking about Caelum Lestrange.
I, I don't know when I shifted from admiring his passion for potions to simply enjoying the sound of his voice and the friendly banter that came with it. I don't know when I moved from finding him a jerk to finding him a charm. And it hurts. It hurts because I shouldn't feel this way. He is everyone I shouldn't be with. He is a pureblood bigot. He is linked with Voldemort. He thinks people like me aren't human. And I know that's the same as being a pure-blood bigot, and I know that I'm repeating myself, but this is a point that I just can't let go of.
It doesn't matter if I'm an exception to him. If I even am.
I don't want that. I don't want him to call me brilliant if he fails to see that there can be others like me. I don’t want, me, to be just an exception.
Pucey spluttered, and Hermione added, witheringly, "Every so-called 'garden' plant is just a cultivated version of a plant that once grew wild."
"Well, the useful ones can be grown somewhere else until they're cultivated enough to put in the garden, then." His voice grew in confidence as murmurs of agreement sounded around him. "Just don't introduce them in the garden before they're ready, is all I'm saying."
No, Pucey, I don't think this is what you're trying to say at all. Quite simply, I think you mean to say that you feel personally disgusted by the idea of consorting with someone of lesser blood. You believe, deep in your gut, that to marry a halfblood would somehow infect you with the stain of the lesser. You're instinctively repulsed by the idea. And that's fine. I doubt you can help it. But you ought to just say so.
But yet I want him, with his smirks-turned-smiles and his reading blue eyes and his sudden laughs. I know I shouldn't want that. So why?
Why why why?
I think I know.
"I could," Harry said slowly, "But I'd rather have dinner with someone who understands what I've spent all summer doing, rather than someone who's proud of the idea of what I've been doing." As soon as she said it, she realised why it was partially true. She was glad her parents had come and supported her, but at the same time…it was a little annoying, seeing their politely blank expressions as she'd tried to go over some of the finer points of her methodology with them before her presentation.
No one ever understood me the way he has. He was the best friend I could have ever wanted. No one ever understood the love I had for potions, the way he has.
You would say Professor Snape did, right Diary?
But he didn’t even know it was me.
He understood Rigel. He always suspected Harriet . And the reason I feel so much for him is all due to his understanding of Rigel.
But there is no Rigel anymore.
I'll never be with Professor Snape the way I once was. I won't feel something warm every time he'll praise me, because I know it'll be hollow. It'll be bitter, somewhere deep down. He'll always miss the student he could have had. And it'll be me, and all the while I wouldn't be able to tell him, and, I, I don't-
(The piece of paper is torn from the diary and crumpled in a fist as a girl rushes into the floo and lands in a surprised Potions Master's office.)
Dear Diary,
I talked to Profe Master Snape. It's okay. It's okay.
He- it's all fine now. All forgiven, if not forgotten.
He hugged me.
He scolded me too. But somehow, I don't really care. It's okay.We're okay.
And I can never thank Archie enough for this.
Even if I took ages to find out the best wards to put on the book and did you know that concealing wards are actually similar to containment wards? I wish I didn't know.
Dear Diary,
Back to Lestrange.
I think I'm more sorted now, so I can lay this out better:
Caelum understood me. I loved that. I loved our strange friendship, full of denial and banter and potions.
And he decided that his beliefs were more important to him.
I'm not okay with that, but I don't think my heart will let go of it until it knows for sure I'm not misunderstanding something. It's not my job to reach out, if he doesn't even consider my hand human. I know that. But just in case he doesn't, just in case I'm misunderstanding something.
I'll give it one more try.
It takes two to salvage a relationship. We'll see.