Summer Ramblings

Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything. Decided to try a bit of rambling. See how people like it.

And by the way, I don't own Harry Potter! This is just for fun. Not connected to anything else I've written either.

Summer Musings

June 29, 1996

My life sucks.

I know that you are supposed to start off with Dear Journal (or for a girl, Dear Diary), but that really doesn't strike me as my style. Not that I can think of a particular style as mine but still...

Anyway my life still sucks. I'm stuck here at the Dursley's with only this journal given to me by Remus Lupin to keep me company. Since Dumbledore basically cut me off from contacting my friends again, Lupin thought I needed an outlet for 'My Emotions'.

Whatever.

Sorry, Remus, but I am very much an action person; someone that has to DO. I learn by doing, you know that. Back during the Second Task in the Tri-wizard Tournament I jumped into the lake without knowing how to swim. I eventually got the hang of it and even stayed there long enough to rescue everybody. Nevermind that it wasn't really necessary. And can you really blame me for staying? Over the previous couple of years I had to deal with some very real kidnapping... things. First Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, and then Ron when he was dragged away by Sir...

I don't want to write about that now.

You know what I want to talk about? Let's talk about good ol' Albus 'he-who-shall-not-be-blamed' Dumbledore. No, seriously, I think I want to talk about the man that has decided all aspects of my life without any real consent on my part, taking on the roll of guardian like it was his right! Now why is that? Does he think that because it is for 'the best' that it makes it all right? Ever since I've been BORN, he's been interfeering in my life. Who gave the old fart permission to do that? Did someone not deliver that owl to me? A clause that states that 'in the event that Harry Potter is left without parents, Albus Dumbledore shall be in charge of his life, with every other authority figure only existing as a figurehead'? And on top of that, because of that, because he felt the need to keep me in the dark, for my own safety, people died! Others nearly died, were mere inches away from death. Sorry, but I cannot accept his apology right now. All being left in the dark does, is makes it nearly impossible not to stub your toe. And that's if you are lucky. My luck has never been a half way measure.

Oh, and in case you couldn't tell, I am being very sarcastic. Who could blame me? This has been the absolute worst year for me! Dudley, Dementors, Delores, Draco, Department of Mysteries, Death-eaters, Dumbledore; I think I'll just stay away from the letter D from now on (mind you the letter C hasn't been my best friend either).

Speaking of friends, that is about the only fun part in the entire year, and at the same time, one of the most painful experiences. I actually became better friends with a lot of people this year from most of the houses. That doesn't include Slytherin, of course. All I got to do with them was punch Malfoy into the Dirt (ah, good times), though it did get me banned from Quidditch. I wonder if that ban is going to be lifted.anytime soon. I wonder if my Firebolt is a piece of firewood yet. I can easily see Filch demanding the security Trolls to snap it in two, or three, or eight...

Ron sure showed everyone this year with his skills as keeper. Actually I was impressed with Ron a lot this past year. He really has started to mature, seemed to take a lot of things in stride, at least in comparison to me this year. Dummy-door might have had the right idea making him prefect this year as opposed to me. I don't know what I would have done if I had been stuck with that responsibility. Probably would have went wandering the halls after hours, doing 'patrols'.

Except that I'd have Hermione there to keep me in line. I sware, as much as I've thought that girl should become a teacher, I don't think she would do too well in front of a large group; she'd probably be better as a personal trainer or tutor or something, what with all the practice she's had on Ron and me. Oh sorry, Herms, Ron and I! This sucks. Now I hear her in my head telling me correct grammer. It's like she's become my cons... that little voice in my head, I can't spell the stupid word! Still it's by far the best voice I could probably hear in my head these days. A whole lot better than Tommy-boy!

The two of them have been my sanity this past year, hell, these past 5 years. Without the two of them I know I wouldn't have survived for as long as I have. Ron is my best mate, the person I feel most comfortable with. Hermione is the one who, I don't know, I don't try to be like her, maybe try to get approval of? She always seems to have her head on straight, and is always looking out for Ron and I that you can't help but loveadmire her for it, no matter how annoyed you are at the time. The Firebolt in third year comes to mind, or even this year. Mind you I irritated pretty easily this year... All I know is Ron and especially Hermione were all that were keeping me from going over the edge all these years.

I'm so glad they are alright...

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley (Big D!) have done their best to ignore my existance for the four days I've been back. Aunt Petunia has been pushing my meals under the cat-flap again, though luckily they haven't locked me in this year; not that they've needed to anyway, since I haven't really left my room since arriving here into my own personal hell. Maybe they've been hoping that I'll just get up, walk out the door and leave, leaving them to their blissfully unaware Muggle existence. Still all I can say is it's the best that they've ever treated me since I've started living here (insert swearing at A.D. here).

About the worst thing they've done to me this year is left some old things of Dudley's in the room I'm using from when they were storing it in here. Usually they clear out the room completely, probably not wanting me to contaminate anything. This time though, they've left things like an incomplete weight set, Dudley's old computer (bought last year, who knows why Dudders needed a new one, he didn't even use this one).

Actually, Remus, since you wanted me to write in this thing, why don't I tell you about my trip home?

After everyone said goodbye to me at King's Cross Station, Uncle Vernon pointed me towards the parking lot where I was to wait by the car. He said he, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had to use the facilities. All this was said with his face screwed up in a very painful expression. Who knows, maybe he really did need to go? But, unfortunately, they scampered off without telling me where the car was located. Realizing dismally that they might leave without me if I fail in the task to be standing beside the car, I quickly went out to the car lot, which happened to be packed that time of day. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending) I jumped up onto a nearby car (a couple of older people expressed concern/outrage) and I was able to spot two different cars that could have been the Dursley's. I took a guess at which car it would be (the closer of the two), and waited beside it. A few minutes later, the Dursleys approached the car, each with rather strange expressions on their faces (maybe smiles?), but they each looked constipated. That really couldn't be healthy. I still think they were hoping to leave me behind.

The ride home was odd in it's forced normalcy (Is that even a real sentence?) Uncle Vernon complained about what they were listening to on the news, Aunt Petunia griped about the 'gossipy' neighbour down in

number 6, and Dudley bragged to his parents about how his training was going to help him get his next title (which I guess he lost, I guess his opponent did the smart thing and just moved around the ring, getting Dudley to chase him, tiring Darling Dudders out). All of this conversation was basically done over my head. They ignored my presence, aside from the occasional quick glance, as if to check that I was still present in the car, which was fine with me. I wasn't up for a conversation with the Dursley family, anyway.

Arriving at Privet Drive was another non-event. They piled out of the car without even looking in my direction. I had to open the boot myself by hitting the button up front. Hedwig was glad to be out of there, that's for sure. I suppose I'm lucky they never thought to put me in there too. Anyway, it took a couple of trips to get my stuff up to my room, with having to rearrange everything because of the extra junk in there. I let Hedwig out as night was coming on anyway. That was when the first tray was passed under my door, roast lamb, I believe, with a few vegetables on the side. All in all, I considered it a feast for my welcome home to Privet Drive.

The last few days haven't really been much of anything. I don't want to talk to anyone here and they definately don't want to talk to me. No one can owl me because of the 'Security Measures' put up by Albus. I haven't really been sleeping well, not surprising there, and I don't leave my room. I don't have any homework yet until I recieve my OWL scores, which I heard someone mention mid-July, can't remember who. So I, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Tri-wizard co-champion, savior, survivor, attention seeker, lunatic, criminal, all depending on who you ask, am now completely cut off from the outside world; the Muggle world by choise, and the Magical world by imposition. Or whatever you could call it.

I really don't know why I've written in this thing, really. I'm sure you want me to write about Sirius and the DoM but I don't think I'll ever really be able to explain what went on that night, or what I'm feeling, now or then. Never been very good at that. I mean when Ron asked me what my first kiss was like, all I could tell him was 'wet'. What the hell kind of answer was that? Hermione may think that Ron has the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' (of course I remember that one, bloody hilarious it was), but am I really any better? Cho was obviously going through some tough times herself and I, being the insensitive git that I am, told her that I needed to go see another girl that I am close to, on Valentine's Day, on our first date! Really, thinking back on it, I'm not surprised she took off. It's like a teammate playing quidditch with you, someone you are really depending on, and their backing out so they can play for the other team. Well at least that's how I see it anyway. Now at any rate. At the time, it just seemed very strange.

Anyway, back to my feelings. Thinking about it I've realized one simple thing: my feelings don't matter. It's as simple as that. The last time my feelings really mattered was when my parents were alive. They took me and hid with me to protect me. At that age my feelings were pretty simplistic; feed me, give me a toy, pay attention to me, change me, and the other brief baby concepts. Then Tom came, and my life changed forever. I was no longer given a choice. He marked me, and by doing so I have been cursed to live a life without choice for the remainder of my days, until he is defeated, or I am (like I'm expecting to win! Hah!) It's not even a choice of fight or don't fight. Tommy will chase me down like a bloodhound until we have this out, he won't be able to help himself (neither can live while the other survives). I guess he doesn't have a choice either. Neither of our feelings matter.

You want proof? How about this. I don't want to be the 'Boy-Who-Lived', I would rather be anyone else, do anything else. There have been times where I wished that I wasn't even a wizard! I don't want to live with the Dursleys'. I'd rather live anywhere else than here. I wanted to live with Sirius, but that didn't happen. I wanted to be loved for who I am, not what I am; instead I was hated for being what I am, not who I am.

Does any of this seem familiar to you, Remus?

I suppose, being a werewolf, it probably does.

Life sucks.

Anyways, I'm getting tired so I'll leave these ramblings here. Don't know what I'll do with this book. Maybe I'll write in it some more over the summer; maybe I'll just use it to chuck at Dudders if he gets on my nerves at all. We'll have to see.

Goodnight Remus.

H.J.P.

{A.N. This fic is a ramble, so if you are looking for a more structured plotline, look somewhere else. Feelings jump around as different things are thought up and I tried to express this in Harry's writings. Now the question is should there be more? I figure it can stand as a one shot but I can continue...}

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