Here's another of Harry's journal entries from the Trust universe. A little something to keep you all occupied while I work on Chapter 9…
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27 June 1998
The last couple of days have been especially rough in a number of ways. First of all, my nightmares have kept me awake whenever I've actually felt like sleeping. I now find myself finding excuses to stay awake, knowing what is coming the moment I go to sleep. If my mind isn't replaying the final battle, then I'm having some weird dream where the situation always changes but in the end I'm always alone. The last thing I need is a complex about being alone. Then again, maybe it's always been there and it's just now rearing its ugly head.
I did manage what I was beginning to think impossible by getting rid of the portrait of Mrs. Black the other day. It's funny, but I decided to take a page out of Sirius' book and just took a knife to the old hag. She wasn't very happy about it, but what is she going to do? Jump out and berate my half-blooded ass? I don't think so. I honestly can't remember how I got the frame off the wall, since we never could get if off before, but maybe that knife had something to do with it. The tapestry in the drawing room gave me the same problems that old picture did, but I finally managed to get it down as well. I folded it up and put it in a box. One of these days I'll give it to Tonks. I can see the look on her face now…especially since her mother's name had been blasted off the family history.
I wish Mrs. Weasley hadn't worked us like house-elves that summer before fifth year; it would be nice to have some work to do that would keep me busy. Instead I have nothing to do but think. Then again, that really is the only reason I'm here. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stay here before someone figures out that I'm here. Hermione will most likely be the first one to figure it out. Her and Ron will no doubt find out soon enough that I've inherited this place and start coming around wondering why I haven't owled them or anything.
I had the weirdest dream last night. I have nightmares every night, the usual recurring ones, but for once I can say this was actually a dream. Hermione and I were married. I only know this because I had a habit of messing with my wedding band, like I was afraid it would run off if I didn't keep an eye on it. Anyway, we were having a picnic in what I assume was our backyard. She looked different, but in a good way. I remember trying to put a finger on what exactly was different…then it came. She was pregnant with our child, and we were so happy. I want that dream so much it hurts. I want the home, the children (plural), the happiness; I want it all. Most of all, I want her. I want her snuggled up next to me in bed, I want her to comfort me when I've had a bad day (just as I would comfort her), and I want her to share every part of my life. I don't want to keep secrets from her; she deserves so much better.
Which brings me back to the beginning…I'm finding ways to keep my dreams from becoming reality. Why do I do this to myself? Why don't I owl her right now, tell her where I am, and hold on to her for dear life? I think I know the answer…because I'm scared out of my mind. My knowledge of my parents and their life together is very little, but what I do know is that they felt the same way Hermione and I feel about each other. They stood before their family and friends and pledged their love for one another, under the impression that they would lead long lives together. It's a wonderful dream to have, unless you're killed before you reach the age of twenty-five. I don't want that for her. And I don't want her to feel like she could have led a normal life with someone else, because life with me is anything but normal. I feel like I've already ruined her life in some sense, and I just don't want to make matters worse. If only I could talk to her…