Entry Eight
It’s been three days! Three long oppressive days since I wrote in you, Diary. I apologise, honestly I do. I may not mean it, but I apologise all the same. I would have written in you before, but I couldn’t. It’s just that it’s really hard to rant on whenever I want to. Actually, no, it’s not hard to rant on whenever I want to, it’s just hard to do it in this diary, because you’re often locked in my drawer when I want to write something. Usually all I’d write would be “bollocks” or “I hate the Dursleys”, though, so you haven’t missed much. In fact, you’ve probably missed nothing. I’ve read through what I’ve written and I have to admit, it’s a load of codswallop. I’m about as eloquent as Dudley sometimes, but you don’t care much do you?
What has happened in the last three days? Nothing much of note, to tell the truth. I sent off my letter the day after I last wrote, and am expecting a reply soon. Poor Hedwig looked at me most upset when she saw how big the letter I wanted to send with her was. It ended up being five feet long! I might as well have sent several small letters. I gave her a friendly stroke though, and whilst she nipped my finger slightly harder than she had to, she still flew off quite happy. Something else that happened was that I listened in on a program on the television that Dudley was sort of watching, whilst he listened to his discman with his headphones. It was all about how most myths are based upon truth, and went into mythology surrounding the Unicorn and the Centaur. It was quite riveting stuff, but I had to make sure Aunt Petunia didn’t find me listening in sitting on the stairs. Some of the information they had I knew to be false, but some of it was really quite close, and it made me wonder if a Witch or a Wizard had been involved. I wonder why there isn’t a Wizarding television station? There’s Wizard radio, why not t.v too? I mean… I don’t necessarily crave it or anything, Merlin knows I’ve usually got enough on my plate as it is when I’m at Hogwarts, but I’m still curious. I’ll have to remember to ask Ron or Hermione when I write next. I didn’t ask Hermione for her phone number this time because she’s at the Weasleys’, but I’ll have to remember to ask that too. Of course, by the time I can actually use it, I might be at the Weasleys’ as well!
So right now I’m hiding from Uncle Vernon, who has some hairbrained idea that I’ve been bullying Dudley and threatening him with physical violence. I would if I could, but I’m the first to admit that I can’t do anything of the sort. Dudley is twice my size and twice my weight, and as much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could get away with threatening him with physical violence before he squashed me to death. Anyway, he ordered me out of his house, but Aunt Petunia intervened and said she didn’t want ‘my sort of riff raff’ out on the streets, so I was sent to my room instead. At least I don’t have to do any more household chores for another couple of hours. I hate housework. I think I’ll deliberately have a pigsty of a house when I’m older, just to rebel against the years of housework I did when I was younger. It’ll be a large, rambling estate with secret passages, clutter everywhere and a large space big enough to play Quidditch in! I miss Quidditch so much. I miss flying. I miss my real life.
Entry Nine
The way I am feeling right about now can’t be expressed in the exact way I want to express it because there’s a young diary present. It goes along the lines of $%@* the world! &*%$#@%&*! &%$ # @$#% %#%$! Right. Now that’s over, you might want to know why this page is covered in thinly guised expletives. I got my letter back today. Mrs. Weasley did not gain permission to have me stay. Whoever it was she asked said I have to stay here until the week before I go to Hogwarts. That’s ages away! I might have gone insane by then, I might have tried to run away by then, I might have done something terrible to the Dursleys by then (well that wouldn’t be too bad! Why? Why? WHYYYYYYY? What the bloody hell did I do to deserve this, eh? What was it about me that made the fates say “okay, so first of all we’ll orphan the boy, then we’ll give him to the worst muggle people you could find, then we’ll allow the dark lord to come back and attempt to kill him whenever he can, oh and make sure the boy has to spend every long summer with the evil muggles, just to make his teenage years as turbulent as possible”. If I ever get my hands on the fates I’ll forget about supposedly being a ‘good guy’ and kill them!