I talked to Professor Lupin. I had intended to stay in the dormitory all day and have the crackers Ali sent with the book for lunch, but Jason had already ruined my plans. So I decided to go to the Great Hall, even though I didn't really feel like eating. I managed to leave at the same time as Professor Lupin, who asked why I had stayed at school and invited me to his office when I said I would rather not to talk about it in the Entrance Hall. He was very friendly and helpful again.
When I left his office, I was determined to do exactly what he said – explain to Jason that I needed time to get to know him – but then...I didn't. The thing is Jason is so persuasive. He didn't really forced me to anything but when he kissed me again (practically as I entered the room), Professor Lupin's words seemed to vanish from my mind, and I couldn't think of anything to say. To be honest, I was no longer sure I wanted to protest at all. I was getting used to it and...I did like it; I can't deny. So I let him.
He was really kind and surprisingly understanding when I freaked out because he seemed to think I would let him do whatever he was thinking of doing. I could never tell Professor Lupin that. I would never be able to find the words, and even allusions would be far too embarrassing. "He's older" was all I managed to say when I explained why the thought of being Jason's boyfriend scared me, and I don't think he knew what I meant when I said it. "He's a Slytherin" sounded more important at the time, and in a way it was because I was naïve enough to believe that the other problem wouldn't arise before...I don't know, a few weeks or so.
I don't even know how I feel about Jason now - don't know if I'm still scared or happy that I can have his arms around me from time to time. I do love that. But could I love him? Could I trust him and love him enough to stop worrying about what he wants? And could he love me? Why would he?
It's stupid, but right now all I can think of is "I want Roger to be there and hold me so I feel less lost." As if Roger would hold me. Maybe Ali would, if he noticed I really need it. But he's even farther away. And neither him nor Roger will ever understand, anyway.
I refused to go to Hogsmeade with the others, so I'm alone in the dormitory. I had planned to read all day (Ali sent me a very interesting book; I started it yesterday night but didn't finish because it was so late I couldn't keep my eyes open after the first hundred of pages), but now I'm too perturbed to concentrate on a story. I thought that things like that never happened in real life.
It was like in one of those musicals I played for fun with Ali – except I wasn't supposed to be a girl, for once, and the kisses weren't fake anymore.
Jason did kiss me... I still can't believe it. No one had ever done that before (of course!), and I never thought it would happen someday. I didn't even want it to happen.
I had almost wished Roger would kiss me the other day when Felicia had mentioned it, but only because I knew he wouldn't do it.
And Jason... he doesn’t look like he’d ever do such a thing. He doesn't look "girly" at all, so I had no way to guess he was like me. It's rather nice to know it, but now what am I going to do?
I hate it when people don't give me any choice. He kissed me without seeing if I would mind; he didn't give me time to think or even to reply when he "suggested" we meet later. It scares me because I don’t know what to do around him or to make him understand I'm totally overwhelmed by his behaviour.
It doesn't feel right. I've never had any close friend and now there's Jason, who seems to think I'll agree to be his boyfriend. It's absolutely not normal. Not a thing that should happen to me. I may like boys – okay, clearly I do – but all I've ever thought would happen is looking discreetly at those I think are cute and getting a few words or a smile from them sometimes (or friendly letters in Arnaud's case). Never, ever, I would have imagined I’d get a kiss from anyone. Those things happen to other people, not to me.
Of course, it could have been worse – it could have been a girl. I'd feel less confused than I feel now, though. Had it been a girl, at least there would be no questioning about whether I liked it or not and whether it would be possible to date her or not.
Not that I can seriously picturing myself dating Jason, but well...I can't imagine myself refusing to do it either. This might be the only other boy in the school who has no interest in girls, and I would like to be his friend. But that’s probably not enough for him.
I need to talk to Professor Lupin. Not that I believe he could do anything about the rumours and the sideways glances, but maybe he would be able to tell me how I'm supposed to face them. It's those three Slytherins' fault, of course. They started by telling their housemates, and by the end of the week the whole school had heard how, according to them, they had witnessed a "very compromising scene" between the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and his "girly best friend" in the middle of a corridor that morning. Roger managed to convince Bryan and Lance that it was nothing more than the usual insults Flint and co. always throw at members of the other Quidditch teams, but people of all four Houses still look at us curiously when we pass them by. It certainly doesn't help that I avoid their gaze and turn as red as a Quaffle, but I can't help it. Plus, even if they don't believe it (or don't mind?), our classmates' comments can be awfully embarrassing.
The only good thing about that stupid rumour is that seeing peoples' reactions helps me learn about their views on the subject. If I wasn't involved, I would find it fascinating (and Ali would say again I'm sounding like Spock, but well, that word is kind of a favourite for Ravenclaws as well as for Vulcans). In the present circumstances, though, it's hard to take it as an occasion to know who's fine with the thought of two people of the same gender being "a little too close" and who considers it shocking – or, as Iris said, disgusting (let's hope it was only because Felicia was talking about kissing her or Mona, but I have some doubts).
Roger really seemed not to mind at all. Otherwise, when Felicia said she would like to see him kissing me (honestly, how could she dare say that?), he wouldn't have kept laughing nor replied in that perfectly unperturbed tone that it surely wouldn't be the best way to make the rumours stop (I do agree on that).
Felicia's weird. I can't tell whether she's trying to help us because she seriously thinks we're victims of slander or because she believes we're together and want to keep it secret. Well, at least, she's on our side. I can add her to the very short list of people I don't hate. Not that I really hate everyone else, but I'm very wary of those "friends" who might talk to us only because they don't know that the Slytherins were not completely wrong... What would Lance, Bryan, Iris, and Mona say if they knew about me? I don't think I want to find out.
There are also people I hate for good, and both of the lists include a teacher. I've never liked Professor Snape very much, anyway (he's so scary!) but now, after what he said last week, it's ten times worse. Seriously, a person like that should never be allowed to teach.
It may seem incredible for a teacher to allude to student gossip in class and yet, in that case, it wasn't that surprising. Professor Snape just despises those who fear him, and he doesn't shrink from anything that can help humiliating them. Plus, he's always siding with the Slytherins, so, if he heard they had a detention with Filch when mine and Roger's were only with Professor Lupin (whom he doesn't like either, by the way)... Actually, that stupid comparison of me and Roger to Felicia and Lance was almost predictable. He was bound to do something to show his support to the students of his House.
And now there's another thing that worries me – what are Fred and George planning to do, exactly? They said we couldn't let Snape mock us without reacting and that they had an idea to ridicule him...
Of course, it's very nice of them – and they definitely deserve to have their names on my good list too – but I seriously doubt we can trust them to think of something safe. I really wish I could find a way to talk them into giving up that idea.
And I'd like to have them as friends, too (if they swear not to make any jokes about me, ever). I'd like to start a kind of comparative study about twins (identical or not) and brothers (or sisters) with little difference of age, to sort out what's really typical of twins and what's only due to education. It would be...fascinating.
I also like red hair a lot but that, I should NOT tell them.
I said Remus Lupin was a very good teacher, and that he seemed to be a nice man as well. Now I would even say he's been sent here to help me. Roger is there for that, too, but Professor Lupin... He can help me more. He understands.
It feels weird to know that. I really didn't expect it.
He doesn't think I'm abnormal or anything. And he knows what it is to be called "girly" – or worse.
It seems totally incredible, but he does know what I feel because he felt it too and he wants to help me. He even said I'm allowed to go and talk to him, anytime. I don't think I would dare go to knock at his office door, but it's really nice of him to say I can.
I like what he said about insults being so only if I think they are. It doesn't change that I hate those boys who despise me only because they're small-minded, but it's true that what's offensive is only the way they use the word, and not what the word represents. Following that logic, "idiot" should be considered more offensive (at least for a Ravenclaw). And if I weren't so scared they'd call me that again in front of other people, I could even take it with as much detachment as if they had only mocked me because I'm asocial. That, at least, I'm proud to be. (Well, sort of. But I'm certainly not ashamed, since it's just the way I am.)
Wish I could say I'm proud of being something else too. (Probably should try to write it clearly, to begin with...) The thing is...it's so weird! And I had never really thought of it before that day, even if, in a way, I've always known. It was obvious I wasn't interested in girls, and there have always been boys I wished I could be friends with, for a reason that wasn't clear...because I avoided letting it be clearer, I suppose.
I can even remember the first one's name – Dennis Green. It was...ten years ago. Ten years and a half, actually. I was four and he was five.
I had no clue of what made me admire him up to the point to feel all excited when we passed in front of his house with the car, but now that I think of it, it seems awfully obvious.
It was the same with Jonathan Low in my first years of primary school. He was two years older than me, so one year older than Ali, who liked him too - in a different way, of course. Ali thought Jon was cool. I can't remember what was so cool about him, though. All I remember is that he was...cute. And I had his sister in my class... She looked a lot like him, but I never thought that she was cute.
There were others later. Especially a French boy in my last year before Hogwarts. He was there because his father worked for a company that had sent him to Britain for one year. He had a weird name that no one would have been able to spell hadn't he written it on the blackboard – Arnaud Dumont. Awfully hard to pronounce correctly, in addition to the surprising spelling ("What's the point of putting a "d" or a "t" at the end of a word if it's silent?" we wondered). But somehow I ended up thinking it was the most beautiful name in the world. And I decided I wanted to learn French.
Of course, as soon as he was able to speak more or less fluently, he started spending more time with the others than with me, but he never ignored me as so many people do and, when he needed help with homework, he always asked me.
At the end of the year, he turned back to France and gave his address to everyone, so I wrote him, slipping in the letter all the French words I knew... Now half of each letter I write to him is in French because, that summer, I asked my parents for a tutor (a book with tapes), so I could learn more.
My mother thought it was great that I wanted to speak (well, write) another language. Actually, when I received my Hogwarts letter, she told my father it would be a real shame to send me to "that weird school" when I was so obviously interested in something much more useful. But magic fascinated me too... I only wished I could learn it at home. Now... I don't know. If I hadn't come here, I wouldn't have met Roger.
Well, yes, of course, Roger Davies's name is right after Arnaud Dumont's in the virtual list that started with Dennis Green's...
I HATE PEOPLE! Well, not everyone, but...nearly. Everyone in this school except for Roger Davies and Remus Lupin. Everyone, especially those horrible boys who think they're funny but are only mean. I don't even know them – only by sight, and two of them by name because they're on the Slytherin Quidditch team. All I know is that they had no right to say that.
I don't even know what was worse – being insulted, wondering whether Roger gave that meaning to "girly" too, having to fight three 7th years or... Well, I suppose I would consider the moment when Professor Lupin arrived as being the worst if he had given me a real detention. And I would hate him too if he had, because it really wasn't my fault at all. Still, he had to take points from Ravenclaw as well as from Slytherin and, even if he spared me and Roger hard and humiliating work, we technically have a detention too. Roger doesn't care at all (thank God and Merlin – I would have felt so terrible if he was mad at me for causing the fight by somehow leading people to think we were...what they said) and I can stand the relative shame if I keep in mind that Professor Lupin punished us only because he was forced to. It's nice to know he doesn't doubt we were only defending ourselves.
Now what annoys me most is that I can't know what Roger thinks. He calls me "girly" all the time and it's only now that I fully realise what could hide under the word. He could mean exactly the same thing as what those Slytherins said... Of course, if he really believes that, he obviously doesn't mind... But still, I don't want him to think that. Maybe I should let him settle a double date with Cho and Sarah or Marietta, after all. Or I should just ask him what he thinks…but that, I'll never be able to do. Well, I'd be even less able to kiss a girl...
I really, really hate people. If they just minded their own business, nothing would have happened, and I wouldn't be here wondering how abnormal Roger thinks I am, exactly.
Quidditch tryouts tonight. Roger is all excited, proud, and, although he doesn't want to let it show, also a little nervous at the thought of being the one to decide about everything this year.
I didn't even have to ask whether I was allowed to come and watch. He just turned my way and said, "Coming?" before he left the common room with his team mates and those who would be in competition for a place in the team. It was as if I had been invited from the start and he was only making sure I still had intention to follow them.
I do like Quidditch. I can't play, of course, but watching is really nice. It may sound stupid – and I admit that it is, in a way – but there are very few things that can make me as happy as I am when Roger scores, and none that can make me forget about my usual reserve like a Ravenclaw victory does. Not only do I cheer with the others but, last time, I practically threw myself into Roger's arms to congratulate him on the splendid way he had feinted the opponent Keeper.
Tryouts might be long, though, so I brought my notebook. At least, if I get bored, I can write about who seems best or worst to me.
Some of those people are good, as far as I can tell. Not as good as Roger or Cho, but there are definitely more good flyers in Ravenclaw than people tend to think. Not because our House is known to hold the best brains in the school does it mean that sport is not our thing. (Well, it's not mine, obviously, but who would dare say it's not Roger's?) It's only prejudice, I suppose. And nonsense. Like believing that no Gryffindor has ever thought before acting or that Hufflepuffs can't ever be selfish. There probably are even a few decent Slytherins, though they're certainly not on the Quidditch team. And it depends on what you call decent, too.
Anyway, back to the tryouts... There's a girl applying to the vacant Beater position, and she's not bad at all. Bet Roger would say she's less "girly" than I am, since she's able to hit those Bludgers with a strength I'm not sure I could show and a confidence I'm definitely sure I could never show. In anything. One of the boys who played earlier did better, though, so I suppose Roger will select him. Which means Cho will remain the only girl in the team, because those who tried for Chaser weren't very good. Actually, one of them was so lousy I thought even I wouldn't have done worse – yes, she did that bad! But it might be because she's only a second year and was impressed by all those older students.
I would quite like to have another girl in the team. Gryffindor has three, and Hufflepuff had two last year – one of them was even the captain, but she was a 7th year, so she has left now. Lucky we have Cho, or some might think we're like the Slytherins, who never allow girls to play on their team... If I were a Slytherin girl, I think I would start a petition against Marcus Flint's habit of selecting players who would be better placed on a boxing ring than on a Quidditch pitch.
(I really write the most ridiculous things sometimes. "If I were a Slytherin girl"... Honestly!)
Back to the dormitory. As I was expecting, Roger chose the boy I mentioned as Beater and another one, who seems very good too, as Chaser. Then he joined me outside the Quidditch pitch and...he asked whether I approved his choice! As if my opinion was of any worth! I said yes, of course – and I meant it. But I couldn't help mentioning the Beater girl...
I shouldn't have let the conversation slide on the subject of girls. Well, of course, it was more about Quidditch at first, and I couldn't have expected Roger's comment about the Beater girl being much less pretty than Cho. But I probably should have known it would have been better pretending I agreed, and certainly not asking whether he liked Cho. Curiosity kills the cat...and makes shy boys die with embarrassment when their questions turn against them.
Honestly, what did he think? Did he really imagine I would agree to go out with Sarah or Marietta just to keep him company on a date with Cho? And since when does he need me to support him for those kinds of things? I'm the shy one, after all. He has never shown any sign of shyness before, as far as I know. I really don't understand.
Could it be only because he thinks I will be mad at him if he leaves me alone on a Hogsmeade weekend? He knows I don't like to stay with other people and probably wouldn't go to Hogsmeade at all if he "abandoned" me... But I don't care, actually. I would give him some gold so he could buy my favourite sweets at Honeydukes and that's all.
I won't go out with anyone. No way. I'll go to Hogsmeade with him alone or not at all. Period.
If I was any good at humour, I would have replied "Is that an offer?" or something when he said "If you prefer to date a boy..." But that's the kind of thing I always think of afterwards. Pity, it would have been funny.
Before the Dementors' intrusion and also before Roger started talking Quidditch with half of his team, the big question in our compartment was "What kind of Defence teacher are we going to have this year?" Of course, after Professor Quirrell, who was apparently in You-Know-Who's service, and the famous Gilderoy Lockhart who talked a lot but couldn't do anything properly, we were quite distrustful! (Yes, "we"... Even I commented on that, though my eyes were still on my book.) But then, when we saw him, we agreed that Professor Lupin looked perfectly harmless - or even "insignificant," according to Roger... Bet that's what he thinks about me too. And I can't blame him, since it's true. But, for a teacher, I found the word rather unsuitable, even if this one seems to be the exact opposite of his predecessor. So I thought I might like him.
I was wrong. I don't like Professor Lupin - I love him. Definitely, he's my kind of teacher. First, he's nice - not scary like Professor Snape or even severe-looking like Professor McGonagall - and then he explains things clearly and simply, but not in a way that would make us suspect he thinks we're too thick to understand more elaborate wordings. I suppose it's just that he knows what he's talking about, which is a big change compared to the excuse for a teacher we had last year. Plus, he knows Aunt Sandra.
I hope my astonishment didn't show too much when he told me that. Or, at least, I hope he didn't guess the reason why I couldn't believe it.
Classmates... It means they're the same age! And who, seeing Professor Lupin's grey hair, would believe he's barely 35 years old? Of course, if you look a little more carefully, you see his hair is not entirely grey and that he actually doesn't look as old as it seems at first sight, but still, it's rather incredible to think he's younger than my parents are.
Anyway. I love him. He's definitely a good teacher and a nice person. As far as I can tell now, after only two lessons with him. But I do believe he's great.
I also believe that some people would deserve a good slap in the face. Or whatever would make them shut up. Honestly, that Draco Malfoy is a real prat! And so are his friends. They're not in my year, so I don't see them very often, but this is the third time this week I hear them - and especially him - commenting sarcastically on Professor Lupin's shabby robes.
Plus, I bet he's exaggerating the importance (or even completely faking the existence) of that wound he's had since the first day of lessons. Madam Pomfrey should have been able to fix that in no time. I mean, Roger has been injured more than once in Quidditch matches or training sessions, and he has never ended up being forced to keep his arm in a sling or anything of that kind for an entire week.
Anyway, that injury of Draco Malfoy's is all his own fault. According to Roger, who had Care of Magical Creatures right after him, those Hippogriffs that Hagrid (well, Professor Hagrid now) showed them weren't really dangerous as long as you followed the safety instructions, and that stupid boy managed to get his arm slashed all the same... Now he's even muttering about getting Hagrid sacked and the Hippogriff put down. Just because he doesn't like Hagrid any more than he likes Professor Lupin, of course. I suppose the only teacher he likes is Professor Snape, who's known to favour the Slytherins in an outrageous way. I also bet he's in the library now only to show off his so-called injured arm to people who don't know he's faking.
I swear I'll hit him if he... Well, no, I would never do that. It would get me in trouble and I can't even imagine how I would survive the humiliation of a detention. Plus, he would have time to hit back before someone intervened, and that would hurt.
Roger's laughing. I shouldn't have said that to him.
I know I'm not Gryffindorish at all, no need to tell me! I'm not even ashamed of it. And yes, Bludgers are a rather significant part of the ensemble of elements that led me to decide I didn't want to try to play Quidditch. Nasty Slytherin players always wanting to make the opponents fall of their brooms being another of the said elements. Still, I don't particularly appreciate being called "girly" (here I'm casting a dark look in Roger's direction). And no, I'm not sulking!
I'm just wondering why I like you so much, Mr Davies. Really, I should hate you. (No, I didn't say that out loud.)
It's true... Why do I like him? He never takes anything I say seriously. And he thinks I'm weird - weird and girly. (I have to admit this offends me, even if it's rather stupid, since it's quite obvious I'm not a girl.)
But he does seem to like me – at least enough to talk to me as he talks to everyone else, and maybe a little more because the others have other friends and I don't.
At the beginning of our first year, he tried to integrate me in his conversations with other people, but he gave up when I told him that groups made me feel uncomfortable.
I do like him a lot. I wish I were a little less shy - and a little less "weird" - so I might be his friend for real. He wouldn't need to have so many other friends, because I would be "normal" enough to fulfil all the requirements of the Perfect Best Friend...
Oh, really, how stupid I can be when I start writing all what comes into my mind! But it's true I'd like to be closer to Roger - to be as important to him as he is to me. And it's also true I have no possibility of being important to him because he'll never understand me.
Nobody will ever be able to really understand me, I suppose. Not even Ali. He loves me and I love him, of course - we're brothers, after all, and have years of memories in common - but there's no way he could understand what I feel, because he's so different from me.
Actually, now that I think of it, Ali's much more like Roger. He could have been Roger's best friend if he had been the magical one. Except that he's a year older and would probably not be in Ravenclaw. Not that he's stupid, of course - really, he's not - but, well...I did his arithmetic homework when we were still in the same school.
I wonder if he feels like an idiot because I solved those problems easily when it was so hard for him. I should remind him he's better than me at a lot of things. Like music. I would be unable to write songs as he does, and even less able to sing in front of anyone if it's not along with him or with a record. Anyway.
I had never really thought of it before, but it's obvious that Ali did, in primary school, more or less what Roger does now - he tried to integrate me in his group of friends, then ended up spending more time with me alone than with anyone else in order to spare me the awkwardness of the others' presence, and he defended me from those who mocked me for my shyness or were jealous of my marks.
In short, we were as close as brothers can be (well, Fred and George Weasley are probably closer, but that's because they're twins) and still, I'm sure Ali can't understand me better than Roger does. He, too, thinks I'm weird. And "girly." But that may be his fault, since he always made me play the female parts in our "musicals." He said I looked like a girl because I'm blond like our mother... No comment.
I've just read again what I wrote as an introduction and I wonder what I had in mind. This isn't supposed to be read by anyone else, is it? I mean, it's not as if I was writing my memoirs or something. It's more like a diary, even if I don't like that word because it makes it sound like a little girl thing ("dear diary" and stuff - so ridiculous!). But, diary or not, it's clear I'll keep these notes for myself. All I want is to make sure I won't forget about the little things that make this place special, because Aunt Sandra told me she wished she remembered more of her days here.
I might copy some parts of this in letters to my family if something worth telling happens but, to be honest, I hope this year will be uneventful. We had enough last year with those scary attacks. I still can't believe how lucky we were that none of the people who came across that basilisk met his deadly gaze directly. And lucky that Harry Potter managed to kill it, saving the Weasleys’ little sister who had been imprisoned in the Chamber of Secrets by the mysterious heir of Slytherin. We all thought she was dead when Professor Flitwick told us what had happened.
Really, last year was awful. And my hopes that this one will go well are not too high... I mean, there's a mad prisoner on the loose and dementors all around the school, so we can't call it a good start of term, can we? On the other hand, those dementors, as horrible as they are, have been sent to protect us. With them guarding all the entrances, Sirius Black can't enter here.
Still, they're positively terrifying. They seem to freeze everything around, and make you feel so hopeless, cheerless, helpless... None of us looked well at all when one of those things entered our compartment. Roger would never admit it, but I bet he was nearly as scared as the girls and I were.
I feel rather stupid about that. Roger managed to appear relatively calm and brave when I was clinging at his hand and had to summon all my pride not to burst into tears like Cho. Or curl up like Marietta - actually, I think I would have done that if only I had been able to move.
Now I wonder if Cho cried on Roger's arms on purpose. I mean... She certainly had very good reasons to cry and search for comfort but...I don't know...you don't throw yourself at someone you don't like, do you? Well, of course she likes him; he's her friend as he's friends with all of his team mates, but is it only that? She also sat in front of him in the Great Hall afterwards, and talked to him more than to anyone else including Marietta. And he seemed to speak to her only, too.
Oh, who cares? If Roger wants to go out with his pretty little Seeker, it's none of my business, after all. Except that I'm curious.
So... How should I start? Maybe with some facts...
Name: Leander Nathaniel Griffin Age: 15 Birthday: 2d of June (1978) Hair colour: blond Eye colour: blue Siblings: 1 brother (Alistair, 16) Wizarding heritage: Muggle-born, but...
Oh, now I know what would make a good start!
My aunt Sandra - my father's sister - is a witch. The only witch in the family, as far as we know. So, to what strange coincidence do I owe those magical powers that opened for me the doors of Hogwarts as well? That's the question my parents have been asking themselves since the memorable day - unforgettable even for me, though I was only five years old - when I accidentally set fire to a coloured pencil because a nasty little boy was annoying me with it.
Fortunately, neither the teacher or any of the children realized that I was responsible for what had all the appearances of a spontaneous combustion, but I had no doubt; those flames were obviously the expression of my anger. I had no clue how it could have happened, though, and my mother wouldn't believe it. Only my father understood. As soon as he heard the story, he knew that, someday, I would receive a letter just like the one he had seen in his younger sister's hands about fifteen years before.
I don't remember the entire scene, but I still can recall my feeling of wonder. I guess it took a long time for my mother to get used to the thought that magic did exist and that one of her sons had a frightening power to set things on fire when he was angry. I was too young to realize it was anything but common, and only years later did I start asking myself questions about it - especially "How can Aunt Sandra and I share that kind of 'talent' when it seems that no other member of our family has ever been magical?” I mean, it's not logical; she's my aunt, not my mother, so I can't have inherited anything from her directly. And even assuming that Ali, our father, and one of his own parents are all Squibs, there still must have been someone before them that was a witch or wizard. Now, even though I did a lot of research, I've never discovered any ancestor of mine whose name would appear in the Hogwarts records. So it has to be only chance... I can't believe it.
It doesn't really matter, I know. But curiosity may be both my worst flaw and my finest point - flaw because it makes me waste time looking for useless details and sometimes leads me to eavesdropping or the written equivalent of it; fine point because it's what makes me want to know more about practically everything I hear people talking about or come across while reading. I’ve learned a lot of interesting or useful things like that, and this is surely why the Sorting Hat decided to send me to Ravenclaw, the House of "those of wit and learning."
Sometimes I wonder whether something would be different if I was not in Ravenclaw. Since the Hat considered Hufflepuff before, I try to imagine me there, but it's not easy to tell whether it would be better, worse or just the same. Maybe I would feel more comfortable with my classmates, because Hufflepuffs are often particularly kind, but I don't know. After all, Roger Davies is very kind too, and I'm still not sure I can say that he's my best friend. Of course, we do get along quite well and I like him a lot, but in reality he's just everyone's friend. And I'm too distant, too "in my own world" to strike up a real friendship with anyone. Actually, if I tend to regard Roger as a friend in spite of the fact that I would never dare tell him too personal things, it's almost only because he's the first person I talked to on the day we arrived at Hogwarts.
I quickly noticed we had not much in common, though. But it doesn't stop me from liking spending time with him better than with other Ravenclaws, more "eggheads" (as he says), who always manage to become deadly boring at some point - Bryan Jones and Lancelot Fawcett are a little like that. And it's not because I don't play Quidditch myself that I can't enjoy going to see Roger play - I love watching him play, actually. So sometimes, to tease me, he calls me his "best fan." And, even if it's exaggerated - and less kind than "best friend" - I'm glad to know that I am, in a way, important to him.
I only wish he'd stop saying I'm crazy just because I don't want what most people do - things like being a Prefect, for example. I'm not, and it's all for the better, because I wouldn't like being forced to interfere with the silly things other students do or incur their hostility by reprimanding them.
I know he doesn't understand me, but... Whatever. At least he's still nice. And he promised to give me the password, so I can have a look at the Amazing Prefects' Bathroom. Although he surely knows I won't go, since I'm not allowed to.