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March 2nd, 2009 @ 12:01am
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[Hexed Private to self]
I can't help but think they're keeping something from us. I want to know what progress is being made to find Shay. I'm tired of waiting. I'm about to go and find her myself. Blast whatever they say about not leaving the grounds or anything like that. They don't deserve our trust. They've given us no warrant for it.
I've been experiencing something akin to nightmares, but they happen when I'm awake. I wonder if Xander is doing it. Well, it's time to stop it. He's going to help me with Occlumency and Legilimency and I'm going to... Bloody hell, I can't believe I've agreed to play ragdoll.
This is going to hurt.
[/Hex]
Someone knitted me a scarf. Do I know anyone that knits? If it was you, thank you. The scarf is brilliant. I found it in my quidditch locker, with a small note, saying that it was for me. I could get used to finding random gifts in there, after a practice like that one. I've had nearly enough lip from Montague. Not sure I can take much more without retaliating. Especially with the weather so bloody frigid like it is. The snow out there is surely packed miles deep by now. I'm really looking forward to spring. Even more, to going home.
[Hexed Private to Geordy]
The party was great, Geordy. Sorry I could only stop through, I had a bit of business to take care of. If you throw another, I'll be sure to stay longer.
[/Hex]
[Hexed Private to Georgia]
Are you doing alright? I know I've been quiet these past couple of weeks, but my head has been all over the place. I tried to find you last week, to see if you were alright, but you'd disappeared. Do you think you'd be up for another round of "Teach Albus Sign Language"?
If not, I understand, but I miss your company and conversation.
Hope you're well.
[/Hex]
[Hexed Private to Xander]
Can we start tomorrow?
[/Hex]
[Hexed Private to Lily]
We need to talk.
[/Hex]
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December 21st, 2008 @ 3:34pm
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Yeah, alright. I fell off of my broom. Well, I didn't fall accidentally. I am no clutz on a broom. Aubrey MacKee knocked me off. It hurt like bloody hell, but you all go ahead and laugh it up. Just know there is no chance in the universe that Gryffindor will beat us. Sorry, Lysander, but the snitch is mine.
Congratulations to Ravenclaw on their stolen victory.
Here is where I bow out.
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November 9th, 2008 @ 3:26pm
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( Private. )
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October 19th, 2008 @ 11:56pm
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It was therapeutic, the way each deep breath of warm, summer air eased through his lungs and escaped again. The grass was soft against his bare back where he lay, sprawled in the lawn next to the River Otter. The sounds of the running water were like lullabies, singing him into a peaceful unconsciousness. It was like this that he spent so many summer afternoons as of late. When he was younger, he would never ditch his siblings and cousins in whatever games they were playing, just to find himself in solitude. Surely someone had noticed the changes in him by now, but they most likely wrote it off as being a part of the cycle of adolesence. Just something he was going through. A phase.
After a moment or two, he had successfully fallen into a light sleep. His right arm lay out to his side, while his left hand rested on his stomach as it rose and fell with each inhale and exhale. His hair had turned a lighter shade of brown with the summer sun and would soon darken again as autumn came. The sleep seemed peaceful for nearly ten minutes until he began to dream. Vivid colors flying past him, screams of people he didn't know in distant places he'd never been. His body began to react, his muscles tensing and his breathing accelerating.
One voice stuck out above the rest. This voice demanded respect and attention. It was full of anger and seemed on the edge of hysteria. He recognized this voice, but he couldn't seem to place it. He couldn't see who it might have been; in fact, he couldn't see anything besides the bright, neon lights that continued to fly back and forth. Albus's heart raced in his chest, the expression on his face becoming strained. He tried to scream, or make a noise, but with each effort he felt more paralyzed. Finally, the voice grew closer and closer until he was sure to be standing directly in front of it. A tall, dark figure approached him with an eery, slow pace, which only added to the boy's anxiety. Finally, it drew near enough for him to see its face. The being spoke again and just before its face came into view, Albus woke with a jolt.
Panting, the young man sat upright quickly, staring at the ground a moment as he realized he'd been dreaming. Dreaming the same dream he'd dreamed at least five times that summer already. Forcing himself to take deeper breaths, he looked around for a sign of anyone or anything, but he was still just as alone as when he fell asleep. Lifting his hands to his face, he pressed his palms hard against his eyes then drug them down the length of his face. An enormous sigh escaped him and he swiftly pushed himself up from the ground. Snatching his shirt from the ground, he moved in a circle, still feeling a bit paranoid that he was being watched. He shrugged the shirt over his head and mussed his hair a bit, recalling the nightmare he'd just had, trying his hardest to recollect a face, but it was to no avail. Cursing under his breath, he took off back in the direction of The Burrow. He now couldn't escape these horrific dreams whether it were day or night time. They were going to continue to haunt him until he finally saw that face, which he was now rather determined to do. Though, maybe he didn't to know who that murderous voice belonged to after all.
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