December 1st, 2003
|06:22 pm - [Private.]|
Looking back at the goddamn fucking pathetic mess that has been my life, I never thought I'd be even thinking this... but I hate sleeping alone. Or avoiding sleep alone. I really don't like the thoughts that always come together with the fleeting light, and when I can't distract myself with hearing his breathing and feeling the beat of his heart against my skin... Well, it's not good.
Where the hell was he?
Where the fuck is he?
November 30th, 2003
November 24th, 2003
|01:41 pm - [Private.]|
On Saturday I slept embarrassingly late, but when I woke up he was still there. I'm not sure if he had got any sleep at all, and it makes me feel terrible. He would really need it, especially right now. I tried to sway him, iterating that I really wouldn't mind spending two consecutive days in bed if he was there with me -- especially since the spinning still hadn't exactly stopped. In fact, it still hasn't, completely, but I am not telling him this. Fuck, the last thing he needs is something new to worry about.
But, and I have absolutely no bloody idea why, it got better when later on we agreed (read: I begged him to take me with him) to go to the Forbidden Forest,
for a romantic walk to search for Draco. I could see that he needed to do something, and I did too. So we went.
I'd never been there before,* and it was... I'm not even sure what I'd expected. It was dark, very dark. Even with the snow it was so much darker than other forests I've seen, because none of the moonlight could penetrate the thick web of branches above. And even though it was bloody fucking cold just exiting the castle, it also felt considerably colder there. Like a part of the cold was coming... from inside you. I can't explain it, I'm not sure I even understand any of it.
But the worst part was when we found... the unicorn. Even in death still brighter than the undisturbed snow around it. So heart-breakingly beautiful. I don't think I've ever, ever been closer to crying. And Severus went very pale, and I knew why. The words just came from somewhere, words I knew I'd read in the past ... pure and defenseless... slain... cursed life, half-life... And I knew that there was nothing I could do to make it better, there was nothing I could do or say to comfort him, to make it all right again. The sight was just - too - horrible. One of those things you just know you'll never forget, and I had many of those already. Fuck.
And we didn't find Draco.
Sunday.... went with a pretense of normalcy. I even went to the library to attempt and study, even though just thinking felt like swimming through warm molasses. I hazily remember being disturbed by the Ravenclaw Montague is shagging. I think that I was amused, even though I find it difficult to grab on to any one thought, currently. It really is remarkable how many things we can do on complete auto-aviation. Talk. Smile. Charm. Deceive.
And I don't know why I still kindle this stupid fucking dream about being an Arithmancer when we could all be dead any moment. Maybe dreams help. Severus...
[* In my world it was Nott who saw the Thestrals, because Blaise would never elect Care of Magical Creatures -- which I see Draco and his fanclub only taking to annoy Harry, too. Aristocrats don't need to dirty their own hands taking care of animals.]
November 23rd, 2003
I wish I knew what the fuck happened there.
I must have slept for over twenty hours. And my head is still throbbing a little.
And bloody hell, Harry. How you walked out of there without detention is a miracle. I hope that you do use it.
November 20th, 2003
November 19th, 2003
|02:45 pm - [Private.] What's coming through is alive...|
I find it curiously absurd that I should cling on to such a piece of bric-à-brac as if it immanently holds all the answers to all the questions I've not yet dared to ask myself.
I think that the reason my mind fixes on the intricasies of the spells woven into it - inside it - all around it, is because I just cannot bear contemplating what it really means. What I fear it means.
So instead I think of the magic. Its essence. The ease and simple beauty of his charms. And again and again I go back to the first night, and grab onto that one memory. The archaic secrets hidden within the dark tunnels of his eyes that I thought I could almost, almost reach, then. Wandless magic. I take these words and wrap them like a comforting blanket around my mind, telling myself that he - will - be - alright. He will be all right.
He left. Damn you, Headmaster, he left while I slept, and there was nothing I could do about it. So I lie here, now, crushing the little chess piece to my palm... the bed bathing in shadows that may even be coming from within. Me. I don't know. My head is spinning from trying to figure out - everything.
Please, come back. Safely.
November 17th, 2003
|11:11 am - [Private.]|
I had... an audience with the Headmaster. Rather disquieting. I don't know what to think.
So he knows. Has probably known all along. (Is there anything he doesn't know?) But he... he... said that it was alright. That we need each other. I didn't know he needed me.
I know that I'm sorry doesn't change anything, but it is something I haven't heard too many times in my life. And he promised to do something... about Draco and Pansy and... everything. And not to send Severus away, to do something dangerous.
But I know he wants to speak with Mr. Malfoy about Draco, mindful that he might get killed. I think... I think I should seek an interview with him instead. I don't want to die, but I realized that I don't want him to die more.
November 11th, 2003
Today started out pretty well, I think. Better not go to the library later, and ruin it.
( Private - Snape/Blaise - NC-17 - Shower - Player looking for a big rock to crawl underCollapse )
November 6th, 2003
For you... I will try.
The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been,
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again
And I feel this coming over like a storm again
Without the skin,
Beneath the storm,
Under these tears
The walls came down
And as the snake is drowned and
As I look in his eyes,
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of those times
I could have cried then --
I should have cried then
I am too connected to you to
Slip away, to fade away --
Days away I still feel you
Touching me, changing me.
(* Tool; H.)