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Hogsmeade Entries:
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wh0rcrux
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15 October 2022
A part of me has always known this day would come. The other part worked diligently to assure that it would. I do not know if one side is to be praised more than the other. They both have ushered me to this point, as I am now officially the Minister of Magic.
It has proved to be a bittersweet victory, as it has also served to highlight my loneliness. I sit in solitude, with only shadows and firelight beside me. It is only to myself that I can confess the regrets that keep me company, in place of a warm smile and a fresh batch of bread. This is not how success is supposed to feel.
Each moment of happiness that I’ve been bestowed has been clouded in bitterness. The agent of my grief has always born the surname Weasley. Those who should have been standing with me instead stood beside me in mockery. Now it is no different, a Weasley is mocking me once more. Only in this instance, it is my own voice that does so. It is my finest hour, and I am more alone than I have ever been.
I exhausted so many years proving myself, planning my triumphant return home. At some period in time, it simply became too late. I wonder what would’ve happened had I not severed ties with my family. Would I even be here now? Would Fred and George be charming my stationary to read “Monster of Magic” or “Minister of Mud”, or would I be somewhere else entirely? I could be going home to little red-haired children. Perhaps I would even be dead. What would the trade off have been, I wonder? Do I even dare to question if it would have been worth it?
I surely did not intend for the whole of the Wizarding World to be placed on my shoulders when they already carried so much. I could have released myself of this burden long ago, or I could have ignored my pride and not carried it to begin with. However, there is no turning back, and there is no moving forward. There is only now, and what I choose to use it for. Tomorrow, when I take my place in the office that I’ve sought for so long, my choices will have to be worth their end. With so many others relying on me, I can leave little room for doubt, even within my own heart. So instead of dwelling upon it, I must close that chapter of my history forever. However, I cannot help but leave room for a new one to begin in its place.
Drabble #1:
All day he had been plagued by whispers, the focus of more attention than he had known in all of his collective time at Hogwarts. It was only when he stepped into the Slytherin Common Room that he felt able to breathe again. Theodore made his way to the fifth year dormitory, the only place that held some measure of privacy.
He often spent his time here, but today was different. It was his cage, and he could feel the spectator’s eyes drawing around it, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. He had never wished to be part of Malfoy’s ridiculous entourage, but with the release of the Quibbler, he was now guilty by father’s association.
It was then that Malfoy himself walked into the room, Pansy Parkinson in tow. He began rummaging through his trunk, Pansy standing behind him with her arms folded.
“What is she doing here?” Theodore asked coldly. He was less irritated by the fact she was a girl, than by his sanctuary being breeched in the first place.
“Oh relax, Nott. Just because you aren’t socially adept enough to get a girl up here, it doesn’t mean that we all should suffer.” Draco sneered.
Theodore’s face reddened at his accusation, but he was not as much irritated that Malfoy was right, but more at the assumption that he was supposed to care about such things. He looked at Malfoy for a few moments, before feigning interest in a book from his side table.
Of course, now that Draco had found a game to play, he would not so easily give it up. “I suppose that you are thrilled with the new article in the Quibbler, aren’t you? Now perhaps your newfound celebrity will garner you a bit of female interest. Just remember to close your bed curtains, as I really don’t care to see Bullstrode’s tits.” Pansy giggled in the background, but Theodore focused his eyes on Malfoy, his gaze unwavering.
“I know it may come as a shock, but not everyone needs to be the center of attention, Malfoy. Some of us rather enjoy our privacy.” Theodore replied coldly.
“Oh Nott, I was just joking. Settle down a bit. Have you been getting trouble from other houses?” Draco asked.
Theodore’s eyes darted to Pansy, and Draco thankfully realized his objection. “Why don’t we meet later in the library to discuss it, then?”
He didn’t really wish to meet with Malfoy later. In fact, he didn’t wish to leave the dormitory, but somehow found himself nodding in agreement regardless. Draco nodded in return, finally turning and walking quickly from the room.
Nott leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing that this horrid day would just end. Following Draco would be no different than his father following Voldemort, and he had no desire to do either thing. Spending his time in Azkaban for someone else’s ideals was not a course he wanted. He felt the expectation consistently from his father, and now all of Hogwart’s seemed to be crowning him Prince Death Eater as well.
He made his way up to the library reluctantly. Walking through the doors, he noticed Malfoy sitting at one of the tables with Crabbe and Goyle. He reached the table and stood to be acknowledged before sitting down. Malfoy looked at him quickly, motioned towards a chair, and went back to talking with Gregory and Vincent. Theodore cursed himself for coming. What insight could Draco Malfoy possibly have on the situation? He had been dragged out of his room, and was currently being stared at by the entire library, which just happened to be holding Harry Potter and his band of lackeys.
“So, what have they been saying to you?” Draco asked him.
“Nothing of consequence.” Theodore said indifferently. He saw Potter staring at him, and he could feel it on the back of his neck. Its weight was piercing.
“You have got to be fucking joking, Nott. You came all the way up here to say ‘nothing of consequence’?” Draco sneered. Theodore finally heard the library door close as Potter walked out.
“They haven’t said anything to me. They all are mocking me, and I can hear their whispers.”
“They will be getting theirs in the end, I assure you.” Draco replied, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“What do you know about it?” Theodore said critically.
“I know enough, Nott. I’m surprised that you don’t.” Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle who snickered in return.
Theodore wondered how much Draco simply pretended to know, and what his father actually told him. He rather wished that he’d given the impression of at least a bit more sympathy to his father’s cause, at least enough to get a bit of information from him. Being less knowledgeable than Draco in any subject was like eating glass. “Is it Potter?” He asked.
“Of course it’s Potter. You’ll have your revenge, Nott. They’ll learn who is deserving of mockery soon enough.”
He was unable to reveal any further information from Draco, and soon made his way back to the dormitory. Theodore once again sat on his bed, but this time drew the curtains. The walls pressed in on him once more, and he found himself fighting the urge to pack up his things and fly back home to the Manor. Even with the hope of vengeance, he couldn’t stand their eyes on him-- their filthy eyes judging him. He simply wanted to melt into the walls, unnoticed as he had always been.
Change Drabble:
Percy Weasley wasn’t a man that took things lightly. Each action had a measure, and each consequence was weighed. His life would never be spent on a breeze, letting fate take him were it fancied. He preferred an orderly web of actions, each speaking to the next, determining which courses would bring him to the right end.
“Percy.”
“What is it?”
“Percy, wake up. Something has happened.”
Percy’s eyes fluttered and opened, straining to focus on the figure before him. He fumbled for his glasses, and saw Hermione Granger standing at the foot of his bed, a grim look harshening her features.
“What is going on?” Percy asked, suddenly very afraid.
“Get dressed and meet me in the other room. In Muggle clothes, we are going to St. Mungo’s.” she said quickly and walked out.
Percy dressed hurriedly and went to meet her, his brow knit with worry. “What has happened? I demand to know before I go anywhere.” Percy said forcefully.
“Percy Weasley, you are coming with me. You will find out enough when you get there.” Hermione said between clenched teeth.
Percy saw the tears in her furious eyes, and knew not to press further. He nodded, his mind racing.
They set off on foot to St. Mungo’s, as it was only five blocks from Percy’s flat. They drew their coats close to their chests as they walked briskly in silence, their breath forming clouds of vapor in the cold night air. They reached the brick building at last, walking through the magical store window and into the lobby. Hermione immediately set off for the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Percy was close behind her. They reached the third floor and Hermione went through the door at the top of the landing.
She led him quickly to a door on the right, and stopped for him. When he peered in, he saw Healers in lime green robes hovering over many red-haired patients. Percy broke into a run, closing the gap between them.
“What is going on?” He yelled, seeing whom Healers were working over. Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and his Father were all there. Their eyes were rolling back into their heads; their bodies were shaking and their limbs were flailing about. Foam rose from their mouths as their heads shook violently. Percy felt the urge to be sick.
He looked over at Hermione, who was sitting down on a nearby chair, her face buried in her hands. Her back was shaking violently with sobs. Not one Healer would answer him as he began to yell desperately, “What is going on? What’s happened here?”
He ran over to Hermione and grabbed her by the shoulders, bending down in front of her. “Hermione, what happened to them?”
Tears streamed down her face, “Poison.” She whispered. Percy was filled with horror.
“Who did this? Who would do such a thing on Christmas?” His face was pale, and his stomach churned. His ears were ringing with hospital clatter, and the room felt as if it were moving. He looked at her intently, trying to keep his focus, as realization dawned on him. “Where is Mum?”
Hermione’s face tightened, fresh tears streaming down her face. All she could do was shake her head. Percy’s legs would no longer hold his weight, and he quickly sat in the chair next to her. A stoic looking Healer approached them. “You have retrieved the next of kin?” He asked Hermione.
Percy nodded, closing his eyes. “For most of them,” he whispered. He heard the Healer speaking of needing to determine the poison, trying the usual remedies, and something about recovery, but the words just seemed to float in the air, far off, unable to reach him.
When the Healer walked off, Percy whispered, “I should have been there.”
Hermione shook her head slowly. “Well, I should have eaten the stew, but I was nervous and not hungry, because Ron…well…and now he’s….” she trailed off.
Within an instant, Percy’s web of intricate decisions had fallen down around him. He had fooled himself into thinking that his choices weren’t based in stubbornness, anger, or pride. With his family in danger, he couldn’t justify his past decisions, because his arguments didn’t hold a candle to the tremendous ache in his heart. “I was always going to come back. I wanted to prove myself, to make them feel guilty for thinking I was worthless.” His mouth was dry, and he wasn’t even sure if Hermione was listening. “I’ve spent so much time proving my value to those that now will not see it. I should have just been there. I should be in one of those beds, Hermione.”
“Let’s not lose hope.” Hermione whispered. “They still may see it, yet.”
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wh0rcrux
Journal Entry:
15 October 2022
A part of me has always known this day would come. The other part worked diligently to assure that it would. I do not know if one side is to be praised more than the other. They both have ushered me to this point, as I am now officially the Minister of Magic.
It has proved to be a bittersweet victory, as it has also served to highlight my loneliness. I sit in solitude, with only shadows and firelight beside me. It is only to myself that I can confess the regrets that keep me company, in place of a warm smile and a fresh batch of bread. This is not how success is supposed to feel.
Each moment of happiness that I’ve been bestowed has been clouded in bitterness. The agent of my grief has always born the surname Weasley. Those who should have been standing with me instead stood beside me in mockery. Now it is no different, a Weasley is mocking me once more. Only in this instance, it is my own voice that does so. It is my finest hour, and I am more alone than I have ever been.
I exhausted so many years proving myself, planning my triumphant return home. At some period in time, it simply became too late. I wonder what would’ve happened had I not severed ties with my family. Would I even be here now? Would Fred and George be charming my stationary to read “Monster of Magic” or “Minister of Mud”, or would I be somewhere else entirely? I could be going home to little red-haired children. Perhaps I would even be dead. What would the trade off have been, I wonder? Do I even dare to question if it would have been worth it?
I surely did not intend for the whole of the Wizarding World to be placed on my shoulders when they already carried so much. I could have released myself of this burden long ago, or I could have ignored my pride and not carried it to begin with. However, there is no turning back, and there is no moving forward. There is only now, and what I choose to use it for. Tomorrow, when I take my place in the office that I’ve sought for so long, my choices will have to be worth their end. With so many others relying on me, I can leave little room for doubt, even within my own heart. So instead of dwelling upon it, I must close that chapter of my history forever. However, I cannot help but leave room for a new one to begin in its place.
Drabble #1:
All day he had been plagued by whispers, the focus of more attention than he had known in all of his collective time at Hogwarts. It was only when he stepped into the Slytherin Common Room that he felt able to breathe again. Theodore made his way to the fifth year dormitory, the only place that held some measure of privacy.
He often spent his time here, but today was different. It was his cage, and he could feel the spectator’s eyes drawing around it, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. He had never wished to be part of Malfoy’s ridiculous entourage, but with the release of the Quibbler, he was now guilty by father’s association.
It was then that Malfoy himself walked into the room, Pansy Parkinson in tow. He began rummaging through his trunk, Pansy standing behind him with her arms folded.
“What is she doing here?” Theodore asked coldly. He was less irritated by the fact she was a girl, than by his sanctuary being breeched in the first place.
“Oh relax, Nott. Just because you aren’t socially adept enough to get a girl up here, it doesn’t mean that we all should suffer.” Draco sneered.
Theodore’s face reddened at his accusation, but he was not as much irritated that Malfoy was right, but more at the assumption that he was supposed to care about such things. He looked at Malfoy for a few moments, before feigning interest in a book from his side table.
Of course, now that Draco had found a game to play, he would not so easily give it up. “I suppose that you are thrilled with the new article in the Quibbler, aren’t you? Now perhaps your newfound celebrity will garner you a bit of female interest. Just remember to close your bed curtains, as I really don’t care to see Bullstrode’s tits.” Pansy giggled in the background, but Theodore focused his eyes on Malfoy, his gaze unwavering.
“I know it may come as a shock, but not everyone needs to be the center of attention, Malfoy. Some of us rather enjoy our privacy.” Theodore replied coldly.
“Oh Nott, I was just joking. Settle down a bit. Have you been getting trouble from other houses?” Draco asked.
Theodore’s eyes darted to Pansy, and Draco thankfully realized his objection. “Why don’t we meet later in the library to discuss it, then?”
He didn’t really wish to meet with Malfoy later. In fact, he didn’t wish to leave the dormitory, but somehow found himself nodding in agreement regardless. Draco nodded in return, finally turning and walking quickly from the room.
Nott leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing that this horrid day would just end. Following Draco would be no different than his father following Voldemort, and he had no desire to do either thing. Spending his time in Azkaban for someone else’s ideals was not a course he wanted. He felt the expectation consistently from his father, and now all of Hogwart’s seemed to be crowning him Prince Death Eater as well.
He made his way up to the library reluctantly. Walking through the doors, he noticed Malfoy sitting at one of the tables with Crabbe and Goyle. He reached the table and stood to be acknowledged before sitting down. Malfoy looked at him quickly, motioned towards a chair, and went back to talking with Gregory and Vincent. Theodore cursed himself for coming. What insight could Draco Malfoy possibly have on the situation? He had been dragged out of his room, and was currently being stared at by the entire library, which just happened to be holding Harry Potter and his band of lackeys.
“So, what have they been saying to you?” Draco asked him.
“Nothing of consequence.” Theodore said indifferently. He saw Potter staring at him, and he could feel it on the back of his neck. Its weight was piercing.
“You have got to be fucking joking, Nott. You came all the way up here to say ‘nothing of consequence’?” Draco sneered. Theodore finally heard the library door close as Potter walked out.
“They haven’t said anything to me. They all are mocking me, and I can hear their whispers.”
“They will be getting theirs in the end, I assure you.” Draco replied, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“What do you know about it?” Theodore said critically.
“I know enough, Nott. I’m surprised that you don’t.” Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle who snickered in return.
Theodore wondered how much Draco simply pretended to know, and what his father actually told him. He rather wished that he’d given the impression of at least a bit more sympathy to his father’s cause, at least enough to get a bit of information from him. Being less knowledgeable than Draco in any subject was like eating glass. “Is it Potter?” He asked.
“Of course it’s Potter. You’ll have your revenge, Nott. They’ll learn who is deserving of mockery soon enough.”
He was unable to reveal any further information from Draco, and soon made his way back to the dormitory. Theodore once again sat on his bed, but this time drew the curtains. The walls pressed in on him once more, and he found himself fighting the urge to pack up his things and fly back home to the Manor. Even with the hope of vengeance, he couldn’t stand their eyes on him-- their filthy eyes judging him. He simply wanted to melt into the walls, unnoticed as he had always been.
Change Drabble:
Percy Weasley wasn’t a man that took things lightly. Each action had a measure, and each consequence was weighed. His life would never be spent on a breeze, letting fate take him were it fancied. He preferred an orderly web of actions, each speaking to the next, determining which courses would bring him to the right end.
“Percy.”
“What is it?”
“Percy, wake up. Something has happened.”
Percy’s eyes fluttered and opened, straining to focus on the figure before him. He fumbled for his glasses, and saw Hermione Granger standing at the foot of his bed, a grim look harshening her features.
“What is going on?” Percy asked, suddenly very afraid.
“Get dressed and meet me in the other room. In Muggle clothes, we are going to St. Mungo’s.” she said quickly and walked out.
Percy dressed hurriedly and went to meet her, his brow knit with worry. “What has happened? I demand to know before I go anywhere.” Percy said forcefully.
“Percy Weasley, you are coming with me. You will find out enough when you get there.” Hermione said between clenched teeth.
Percy saw the tears in her furious eyes, and knew not to press further. He nodded, his mind racing.
They set off on foot to St. Mungo’s, as it was only five blocks from Percy’s flat. They drew their coats close to their chests as they walked briskly in silence, their breath forming clouds of vapor in the cold night air. They reached the brick building at last, walking through the magical store window and into the lobby. Hermione immediately set off for the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Percy was close behind her. They reached the third floor and Hermione went through the door at the top of the landing.
She led him quickly to a door on the right, and stopped for him. When he peered in, he saw Healers in lime green robes hovering over many red-haired patients. Percy broke into a run, closing the gap between them.
“What is going on?” He yelled, seeing whom Healers were working over. Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and his Father were all there. Their eyes were rolling back into their heads; their bodies were shaking and their limbs were flailing about. Foam rose from their mouths as their heads shook violently. Percy felt the urge to be sick.
He looked over at Hermione, who was sitting down on a nearby chair, her face buried in her hands. Her back was shaking violently with sobs. Not one Healer would answer him as he began to yell desperately, “What is going on? What’s happened here?”
He ran over to Hermione and grabbed her by the shoulders, bending down in front of her. “Hermione, what happened to them?”
Tears streamed down her face, “Poison.” She whispered. Percy was filled with horror.
“Who did this? Who would do such a thing on Christmas?” His face was pale, and his stomach churned. His ears were ringing with hospital clatter, and the room felt as if it were moving. He looked at her intently, trying to keep his focus, as realization dawned on him. “Where is Mum?”
Hermione’s face tightened, fresh tears streaming down her face. All she could do was shake her head. Percy’s legs would no longer hold his weight, and he quickly sat in the chair next to her. A stoic looking Healer approached them. “You have retrieved the next of kin?” He asked Hermione.
Percy nodded, closing his eyes. “For most of them,” he whispered. He heard the Healer speaking of needing to determine the poison, trying the usual remedies, and something about recovery, but the words just seemed to float in the air, far off, unable to reach him.
When the Healer walked off, Percy whispered, “I should have been there.”
Hermione shook her head slowly. “Well, I should have eaten the stew, but I was nervous and not hungry, because Ron…well…and now he’s….” she trailed off.
Within an instant, Percy’s web of intricate decisions had fallen down around him. He had fooled himself into thinking that his choices weren’t based in stubbornness, anger, or pride. With his family in danger, he couldn’t justify his past decisions, because his arguments didn’t hold a candle to the tremendous ache in his heart. “I was always going to come back. I wanted to prove myself, to make them feel guilty for thinking I was worthless.” His mouth was dry, and he wasn’t even sure if Hermione was listening. “I’ve spent so much time proving my value to those that now will not see it. I should have just been there. I should be in one of those beds, Hermione.”
“Let’s not lose hope.” Hermione whispered. “They still may see it, yet.”