A/N If this sounds suspicously like Bridget Jones' Diary, it's because I've spent the last two days reading it and have been inspired to write this little piece about Hogwarts life in 1977. I really need to stop going off on random tangents... Anyway, enjoy! :)
The Incredibly Cliche Journal of Bella Trower
September 1 - 1977
School Year Resolutions
- Must finish all work on time and stop procrastinating. The following excuses are not acceptable: Hunger, period pain, boy drama, Quidditch matches (don't even like Quidditch!), Quidditch parties or subsequent hang over from Quidditch parties.
- Must stop lusting over Marlon Brando. Not healthy for a respected member of the wizarding community to lust over a muggle actor.
- Must stop eating due to emotional stress!!
- Must stop stumbling out of bed in unruly fashion and stubbing toe on dormitory furniture.
- Must brush hair at all times and appear respectable. Must not stuff hair in messy ponytail – gives professor's wrong impression.
- Must not get any detentions.
- Must stop talking to Jeremy Lither. May result in the breakage of at least three of these resolutions.
- Must love and find the goodness in everybody. Must not think bad thoughts about anyone. Must be as righteous as Jesus.
- Must be more politically aware. Must listen to Charlie's political rants more often. Must find out who minister of magic is. Must not be apathetic teenager.
- Must… NOT… Lust… Over… Remus… Fucking… Lupin.
Oh God. Year is off to a horrible start already. Dreading school. Dreading NEWTs. Dreading presence of younger brother. Dreading constant letters from mother reminding me to work hard. Dreading finding out who the head boy and girl are. Dreading being under command of fellow peers. Dreading being a prefect for third consecutive year. Dreading the Quidditch matches. Dreading hearing Charlie's rants on the train as a result of all the political activity.
Am not finished packing. Hate packing. Younger brother is continually coming in and asking questions about Hogwarts.
"Bell, is it really true that Dumbledore feeds the Giant Squid?"
"Do you think I'll be a good enough flyer for the team?"
"Do you think I'll get put in Slytherin?"
No, but Hagrid probably sneaks it meals from the great hall.
Hell no. When God rained talent you were holding an umbrella kid. Besides, first years aren't allowed on the team.
I bloody hope so. If you get put in Hufflepuff possibly will throw myself off Astronomy tower in despair.
Oh god. Am thinking horrible thoughts already and they're only about my brother. Oh God cannot handle another year of being a cynical bitch. Must be positive and upbeat. Must stop listening to Jeremy. Must be nice accepting Hufflepuff. Must be insufferably nice prat like Rosie Mercilia. Must stop hating Rosie Mercilia because she's an insufferably nice prat.
Obviously haven't had enough toast this morning. Should probably pack before getting breakfast. Yes, will pack all my things and then go down and devour seven pieces of toast smothered in butter.
Fuck. Knew I wouldn't get packed on time. Knew I should have packed before I ate breakfast. Why wasn't I born with more self control? Charlie will be panicking at this point… eek. Was supposed to meet her in London before heading over to Kings Cross together.
Oh God, now Father is yelling. Bloody hell. And brother. Kent has always been overly enthusiastic about getting to the train early. Of course, prior to this year it was always his eagerness to get me out of the house that was the cause of that. Bloody prat.
At this point, realise that I should have mentioned something about organisation in every day life in school year resolutions. Will be cutting it to get to London by eleven let alone Platform nine and three quarters. It doesn't help that my Father has no concept pf driving in city traffic.
"Dad, there are no coppers around, you could speed up just a fraction-" I say fruitlessly.
"Bella I'm going as fast as I can," his shoulders are hunched over and he has the unmistakeable expression of someone who is suffering from inner city claustrophobia.
I sit back in my seat with a sigh. My father, who is a muggle, has no idea of what eleven means in the wizarding world. In the muggle world eleven means; as close to eleven as one can manage but the most important thing is that everyone is actually present, or similarly; better late than never. In the wizarding world, eleven means; ELEVEN, or better on time than never.
Tap my foot impatiently when Father waits for fifteen cars to go around the roundabout before him. The occupants in the cars behind us are shaking their fists. Feel like mirroring their actions. Hate father. Hate school. Hate muggle methods of transportation. Hate mother's insistence to spare Father's feelings by taking muggle methods of transportation.
Look at my watch and think of Charlie's irate expression. In all likelihood she will be heading over to the platform by now, having completely given up any hope of me meeting her at ten.
Think of train driver's expression. Assuming the Hogwarts Express even has a driver, have always wondered about that. He remains extremely inconspicuous if he does exist.
Mmmm… Wonder what Joyce thinks about this. Should suss out train driver in prefect patrolling.
Assuming my father gets around this roundabout anytime soon. Because if he doesn't I might spend my final year being home schooled by my neurotic mother.
Oh god… Need to get to the platform.
Urgh. Have just remembered one of the fundamental reasons why I didn't want to get to the train on time. Have never liked prefect briefing on the train. Have hated it since fifth year. In fact, would go as far as to say I've hated everything about being a prefect since fifth year. Am sure Dumbledore got me and Charlie mixed up and really meant to make her prefect what with her unbreakable moral compass.
This year it was particularly boring. Am devastated by head girl choice. Lily Evans is up there with Rosie Mercilia in the insufferably nice stakes. Will not live through so much niceness at prefect meetings. Will suffocate. James Potter is a strange but appealing choice as head boy, may dilute some of Evan's niceness. But then he's liked her for ages, so maybe he'll just go along with whatever she says.
Of course, am depressed that I'm still mooning over Remus Lupin. Oh god, I have to get over him. Think we've exchanged at the most, about, what? Thirty seconds of conversation in seven years? Is it really possible to feel attracted to someone who I've only exchanged thirty seconds worth of conversation with?
Was quite annoyed about getting seated next to Rosie Mercilia, but was sitting quite comfortably ignoring her presence completely when he walked in.
It is illegal to be that intellectually sexy.
Oh shut up.
He was running his hand through his hair, looking tired and responsible, and managing to turn me on all at the same time.
Trying not look like a perverted freak, I averted my gaze. Stupid. Turning around meant I had to engage in conversation with Rosie.
When one is talking to Rosie, they are struck by one of two feelings. Either admiration, and the urge to be as kind and as righteous as she is, or the urge to throttle her for being so inhuman and shout; "Just fucking hate someone already!"
I wasn't alone at least; she was aiming her niceness at Lydia Johnson who like me, had the expression of someone who was on the verge of committing a violent act with a blunt instrument. But then, Lydia wears that expression seventy five percent of the time.
"Have a nice holiday Bella?"
I wanted to growl a no and get the hell away from her, but that would mean I'd be staring at Remus Lupin again which was socially unacceptable and slightly humiliating.
"Yes. Extremely nice." I said through gritted teeth. I tried to make myself feel admiration. It must have been very difficult for her to remain nice at all times. It must have taken a lot of effort. It must have been-
"Well that's good. You deserved a nice long break after all the hard work you did last year on prefect duty."
Oh god. Is it possible for someone to say something as unbelievably untrue as that and still look sincere?
I laughed quietly in reply. Johnson had the audacity to smirk. Stupid smug Ravenclaw. Hate Lydia Johnson even more than Rosie. At least Rosie is nice.
Ahah! Have had at least one nice thought to be proud of this year!
At that point, Evans wanted to monopolise everybody's attention and proceeded to do so by speaking loudly and in what can only be described as a teaching voice. Hate teaching voice. Hate condescending clarity of teaching voice.
Have come to the conclusion that I hate everything. Must stop hanging around Charlie and Jeremy. Must listen to Joyce only. All her hate is directed at men, particularly men who keep her up at night and cause her to eat because of emotional stress and gain ten pounds. Could use men dircted hate right now.
Remus listened attentively to everything Evans said and turned me on some more. Oh god. Why can't I be like normal people and lust over Sirius Black? Why must I put myself through the agony of the unreachable responsible Lupin?
Actually, for me Black is probably just as unreachable, if not more so. The man has a line of desperate slags after him. At the front of that line is Emmy Jones who looks like Marianne Faithful's twin. Hate Emmy Jones. The added bonus is she doesn't posses one intelligent thought in her tiny brain. Of course, that also means have had to listen to the audible version of her stupidity for the better part of seven years which is no easy feat. Shouldn't be bitchy because when God rained knowledge, was probably standing under the thought proof umbrella right long side Emmy (cue the pointless Remus Lupin lusting) but I do have some visible subtlety.
The prefect briefing ended with small input from Potter: "Just walk up and down the corridors for a while and if anyone is being a prat give them a detention." Wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of Potter saying this and dove out the door to do so without being stared at. Of course, in the name of all clichés and bad karma, I almost killed Remus Lupin in the rush. And then we did that noble bloody English thing where one says 'After you' and the other insists 'No, no, you go,' and ended up having a war of nobility which ended in me blushing, looking down at my feet and walking meekly out the door before him.
Finally finished prefect patrolling, or more accurately, ridding the Hogwarts population of all the Slytherin prats and started finding my friends. They've have had this ritual since fifth year of picking the most inaccessible and inconspicuous compartment possible, just to irk me I'm sure.
When I first opened the door was annoyed because my brother had taken it upon himself to sit with them and be an all round pest. Hauled him out the door to his violent protest and shut the door behind him.
"Hate self." I muttered taking a seat next to Charlie.
Charlie (short for Charlotte) is one of those incredibly irritating people who likes to solve problems instead of moaning about them, and so with a roll of her brown eyes she said; "You have absolutely no reason to hate yourself. You do not have to feel inadequate because you did something embarrassing around Remus Lupin."
The fact that she knew what I was talking about gave me little solace. Had my moaning really changed so little over seven years?
"Why don't you just shag the guy and get it over with?" Joyce asked.
Didn't bother answering that one. Have my suspicions that she would laugh at my reasoning if I even attempted to.
"Is sex all you think about?" Charlie asked agitatedly.
"No, I just like annoying you." Joyce replied brightly.
"Want to know my theory lovely?" Someone asked sliding open the compartment door and slipping into the seat next to Joyce.
Lovely is Jeremy's nick name for me. He likes to remind me often that it's more an oxymoron than a nickname. The fact that he also knew what I was talking about (without even knowing I was talking anyway) made me feel even more pathetic.
"NO, I bloody don't." I exclaimed, "It'll be something dangerous and one of my school year resolutions is to not listen to anything you've got to say."
He chuckled and continued anyway; "You're putting the penis on a pedestal."
Rolled eyes. Is exactly the kind of thing Jeremy says on a regular basis, "Am I now?"
"Well you're putting Remus Lupin's penis on a pedestal anyway. And that's always a very bad thing to do. See, the problem most people have in relationships is that they make the other person out to be something great and spectacular when they're not."
"Doesn't matter anyway," I muttered smugly, "Have given up all Remus Lupin related thoughts."
Everyone smirked at me mercilessly. Hate friends. Very bad for self esteem.
The compartment door rattled precariously as a jovial seventh year entered the compartment. He squeezed himself between me and Charlie, who had on his entrance become incredibly interested with her left thumbnail.
"Nice summer Charlie?" He asked in such a convincingly earnest voice I thought for a moment he was actually interested in something other than just getting into her pants.
"It was wonderful not having to see you every day." She quipped so fast that I'm not sure he even understood what she said.
"Marvellous," He said with a grin, planting a kiss on her cheek, jumping up and rattling the compartment door on his way out.
"I hate that bloke."
"Use of colloquial language. Somebodies infatuated." Joyce waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Charlie stared at her disgustedly, "No! Not ever!! Just… No! How do you know what colloquial means?"
"I am actually quite intelligent, even though you won't admit it." Joyce replied smartly.
"Oh right. But being totally apathetic about anything that matters in the world you wouldn't want to discuss the latest breech of goblin rights would you?"
"I'm sorry, the what?" Joyce asked feigning ignorance.
Charlie rolled her eyes; "You sicken me. I'm going to buy something from the trolley." And with that she walked out in a huff.
"School year resolutions?" Joyce asked, turning her attention back to me, still smirking about her win over Charlie, "What's that about."
"It's about me being a saint for the entire duration of this year." I replied with a sigh, "And so far it's not going very well. I just can't help but hate Rosie Mercilia."
Joyce then spent the next half hour giving me a detailed explanation of the theory she had concocted about Rosie over the holidays. Must admit it had dome validity, apart from the mention of extra terrestrial life and genetic mutations.
Am now playing pillow for Jeremy and feel like I shall never be clean again as he has drooled all over my t-shirt. Joyce is also looking at one of her witch weekly magazines lazily. Should probably get out my books and study or something. Is good idea to get ahead on school work, so that when I get assignments I will have so much knowledge that I can complete them without research.
Perhaps I'll close my eyes for five minutes first… Am a bit tired after the stress of seeing and lusting over Remus Lupin again.
Just for five minutes. Then I'll get to work. Will have fantastic NEWT results.
Urgh. Hate feeling after waking up from day naps. Feel like shit. Am still being drooled on. Hate Jeremy. Will stop hanging around him soon.
Have dreadful feeling like we're almost there. That'd be just bloody dandy. Having only twenty seconds to change into my robes.
The train is stopping.
Oh god. Have only just remembered how cold it is in castle. Am bloody freezing. It's only September for god sakes. Urgh. My hateful cat is burying its head into my feet. Hate cat with vengeance. Is most horrible cat in Britain.
Am also slightly traumatised. Cringe every time I think about the most horribly embarrassing thing I did this evening after the feast. Which is about every five seconds or so. Consequently have been huddled in my bed for last half hour cringing continually.
Joyce accounts my horrible embarassment to her theory of accidence. This theory states that everything in life happens by accident (go figure!) The world was created by accident; some Neanderthal type man rubbed two rocks together and created fire by accident, etc, etc. Charlie on the other hand, accounts my embarassment to being too paranoid about being embarrassed. She's maddeningly unhelpful sometimes.
Was on brief prefect patrol after feast and was in charge of making sure no Hufflepuff's were roaming around castle after hours (of course they were).
I was innocently rounding a corner when out of nowhere I was attacked and hauled into one of Filche's broom cupboards. My attacker wasn't on the small side so I didn't entertain ideas of fighting him off. I tried to scream but then my mouth was covered by a rough hand and I had no hope whatsoever.
"Shut up lovely."
I rolled my eyes. Jeremy's dramatic tendencies were going to get him killed one day. I wouldn't always be helpless and inaudible.
"What's all this about?" I asked pulling away from him agitatedly and trying to fix up my now mangled hair. Bloody Jeremy.
"Kate is on the rampage."
I rolled my eyes. Jeremy and his girlfriend Kate are in one of those terribly complicated relationships that featured greatly in witch weekly's families and lovers section.
"What have you done this time?"
"Apparently we're having an affair." He said issuing me.
"And you thought you would disprove this theory by dragging me into a broom cupboard and giving me a dishevelled appearance?" I muttered incredulously.
From what I could see of his face from the small amount of light filtering in through the gap between the door and the wall, Jeremy had obviously not thought of this. I heard the fast footsteps of someone in conspicuously high heeled shoes and watched in delight as his face paled.
"Right… Yeah, that's probably a good point." He peaked out the gap, "God I hope she doesn't look in here. I wanted to save you the unnecessary effort of being cross examined by someone's who's obviously off their rocker."
"If she's so off her rocker, why on earth are you going out with her?"
"Another good point. But as they say, love is blind."
I snorted, "Love is not bloody blind."
"Why are you in love with Remus Lupin then?"
I opened my mouth to bite back with something cutting and smart but nothing came to mind so instead I closed my mouth dim wittedly. Stupid Jeremy.
"Well," I replied after a pause, "Love's not so blind that you can be going out with a complete lunatic and not have the urge to get out."
"She's not a complete lunatic." He said defensively, "Kate has her good points. She certainly knows how to snog-"
"Urgh!" I exclaimed loudly.
He looked daggers at me and remembering that we were hiding from a possibly murderous lunatic I clamped my mouth shut fast.
The footsteps were slower now, adding to the suspense. Oh god. Kate was really going to go off her nut. I'd be the victim of Emmy and her group for weeks after this. And I had to share a dormitory with them. Bloody Jeremy. There was a good reason I had a school year resolution to stay away from him.
There was a brief pause, the footsteps stopped and there was complete silence. For a moment I thought that perhaps we'd gotten away with it. Perhaps she's been walking away and the footsteps we'd heard were simply getting slower because she was-
Suddenly the door was wrenched open and light flooded in. I covered my eyes instinctively, cursing myself for doing so because Kate would probably go for the hair first.
I waited for the scream and following slap but heard nothing. Strange. Oh no… Maybe she had turned into one of those silent killers that said nothing… Oh god… I hated Jeremy.
And then, someone else spoke; "Filch is on his way up here so I'd get out now if you don't want to spend the next four weeks in detention."
Oh. Bloody. Hell.
I lowered my hand slowly, my heart not really beating at its usual rhythm.
There he was, right in front of me, the epitome of bookish sexiness, smirking like a smug cat that got the cream.
As I replay the moment when I lowered my hand and he raised his eyebrow, I get the urge to take my bedside lamp and hit myself over the head with it.
I cringe again as I remember his next little tibit; "So I assume you don't want me to tell Lily that you weren't listening to her speech this morning about setting examples for other students?"
Feel slightly annoyed that he was so smug about the whole thing. Mostly though I'm worried that he thinks getting off in broom cupboards is something I do on a regular basis. He probably thinks I'm the slag of all slags. I wonder if he thinks I'm going out with Jeremy. Oh God… Hate self more than ever.
All in all, very bad start to the year. Was not one of my resolutions to stop mooning over Remus Lupin? Oh get over it Bella. Think of… Marlon Brando!
Oh dear… Was supposed to be giving him up too.
Hate school year resolutions.
Reviewers will get an incredibly smug Remus Lupin to do with what they please ;)