| [Private; Heavily Warded] |
[24 Jul 2004|10:40pm] |
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mood |
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 The End. |
] |
So I've been avoiding this for a while. On one hand, it seems silly to continue to write in a school project when I'm so decidedly out of school. On the other, it feels wrong to leave this journal unfinished, especially since my last entry was one of anger.
I'm not angry any more, nor am I mourning the loss of my supposed friends and parents. Grief has been my shadow for the past month, granted, but in all honesty I can claim that I've never been happier than I am now. It might seem odd to feel that way, with grave dirt still fresh and so many things left unaccomplished. But even with this sense of the future looming over my head, I feel... steady. Determined. Ready for it. I've not felt that way since before I was Marked. For a long time, I thought that I would never have that confidence again.
Hermione and I are to be handfasted on August 4th. I've not had the guts to tell Emma yet, as I know full well what she'd say: But she killed your Mum! How could you even want to handfast with her? And Emma might be right.
But things have never been black and white with Hermione and I. Not from the first time that we clung to the tower in the pouring rain, not when we sat on her couch trying to discuss a future that in all likelihood wasn't going to happen, and not now, when we're out of school and preparing to face whatever the Dark Lord throws at us. Living with her is utter heaven - waking up next to her, having dinner with her, spending as much time as we want together... utter heaven.
It's a good thing that Hermione and I were good friends before we ever become lovers, considering the 'friend population' in my life is at an all time low thanks to Millicent and Draco hoofing it. That I know that I will never forgive them for. They hold the same bitter plot in my heart where Contzel has been put - and abandon all hope ye who enter there. True, I spoke with Contzel quite politely the other day when I sought her out to give her the letter that I had found that Dad had intended to send her - but I did not give her my address. I did not invite her to tea. I did not stay long. What she has done, and what Millicent and Draco have done is unforgivable in my eyes. It's crumbled dust. They saw that the Trio was shattered, and that's that. Should they return, then they will be asked to leave. I shan't have them endangering me or the ones that I love.
Who I have been asking to lunch is a slightly surprising choice, given how much Seamus and I have hated each other in the past. But after fighting side by side with him, and after all that happened... I found that I simply could not summon up any more hatred, and evidently neither could he. We had lunch, and he helped get rid of a Prophet reporter that had been tailing me. I knew then that he felt the same weariness that I did.
From that day, we've been hanging out with great frequency, getting pissed, talking of the future... he hooked up my cable and helped me buy power tools, both activities for which I am supremely grateful. And... he's solid. I know that he's undergoing grief for Parvati, and I try not to touch that too much. There are lines that are there that we both know not to cross, ironically from our days of hating each other. I don't mind any more his relationship with Emma, which I know to be growing from the smile on his face whenever I ask about her. However... there are some details we just don't share. Those lines aren't detrimental, but I'm wondering how much I should tinker. He isn't aware of my Mark, and that's one thing that I'm toying with confessing to. He's not on a 'need to know' basis, and he's too polite to point out idiosyncrasies. But if he's going to be a friend...
...I'll consider it.
Still, between Marks, Seamus, Contzel, Hermione, Draco and Millicent... life seems to be speeding towards something worthwhile. I never thought that I'd want to be handfasted any time soon, and I was the one who asked her. Twice. And so it shall be.
Heh. I'm actually sort of sorry to see this be the end of this journal. I mean, everything's documented here. And if it wasn't for the journals, so many of the relationships that I have now wouldn't have happened. But all things deserve proper endings.
The chords that we use to fasten our hands will be white and silver. Silver for protection, and white for peace. It is my wish that my future with Hermione contains an abundance of both.
Qual è 'l geomètra che tutto s'affige
per misurar lo cerchio, e non ritrova,
pensando, quel principio ond'elli indige,
tal era io a quella vista nova:
veder voleva come si convenne
l'imago al cerchio e come vi s'indova;
ma non eran da ciò le proprie penne:
se non che la mia mente fu percossa
da un fulgore in che sua voglia venne.
A l'alta fantasia qui mancò possa;
ma già volgeva il mio disio e 'l velle,
sì come rota ch'igualmente è mossa,
l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
Dante Alighieri
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| [Private; Locked and Warded] |
[02 Jul 2004|12:53am] |
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mood |
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 angry |
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If things weren't wrecked enough, today I got this with an owl.
So I guess they think that they can leave without telling me, and then buy me back with... money and property. I have half a mind to tell her lawyers where to stuff it and I probably would, if I wasn't certain that one of them is half troll.
Millicent and Draco. Two more people on my "I will never forgive them" list.
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| [Public] |
[30 Jun 2004|01:47pm] |
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 blank |
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nothing |
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Hey guys.
I've just been discharged from St. Mungos. I'm fine. Thanks to everyone who visited me when I was laid up.
I'm deeply sorry to whoever has lost a loved one in the battle. None of us were untouched by grief, in some way. For all of our rivalries, it's important to remember that.
I'm not offering words of hope or wisdom because I'm no good at them. Here's something by Dante that's pretty smart, I think: No greater grief than to remember days of joy when misery is at hand.
I can understand that.
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| 2:16 AM; June 27th |
[26 Jun 2004|06:20pm] |
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mood |
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 scared |
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It seemed that he had only just closed his eyes when Blaise woke with a start. Blinking confusedly in some half-awake, half-asleep state, he blearily gazed 'round the room, his arm feeling almost as if he had slept on it wrong and pins and needles were waking it up. His roommates appeared undisturbed; Draco muttered something under his breath about "'m the fecking prince, yes" before rolling over and sighing in his sleep. Crabbe looked like he was faking sleep. Gradually moving into consciousness, his arm not feeling much better as time past, Blaise spotted a glass of water sitting on his bedside table.
Strangely, the glass felt heavy in his hand. I must have been really under... he thought to himeslf, taking a couple of gulps of water. His hand was shaking as he held the glass. Replacing the water on the bedside table, he fluffed his pillow and started to lay down when a jolt of sharp pain moved up his left arm, circling and settling in a very familiar place. Shocked, Blaise slowly sat up, staring at the now perfectly visible Mark which glowed an eerie red in the dim light of the room. What the....
Another jolt of white-hot pain convinced him that this was not just a simple dream. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed a pair of jeans and slid them over his boxers, and threw on a long sleeve t-shirt and shoes. His hands shaking, he examined the Mark closer - yes, something about it was active, something had triggered it... but what could he do?
"Hermione" he said aloud. Hermione would know what to do, or at least know who to contact. This may very well be a warning of sorts. Unfortunately, his audible pronouncement of his girlfriend's name caused sleepy, confused silver eyes to open and glare at him.
"...mm... Blai, can't you keep the sex dreams to a minimum? 'm trying to sleep..."
"Sorry," Blaise returned numbly, looking to Draco with wide eyes. "I... something's happening. Something big. I think we may be in danger."
"Wha... danger? What are you on, Blai?" Draco asked, gradually waking up and automatically pulling on clothing. "Why do you..."
"Because I feel it coming," Blaise snapped, grabbing his wand. "Find Millicent. Warn her. I'm going to find Hermione."
Draco opened his mouth to object, but seeing the way that his friend was clutching his left arm made him stop. "Okay. Take care of yourself - meet back here as soon as possible, right? Don't die on us."
"I won't. Promise. Be careful."
Draco nodded and slipped out of the room, silent and graceful as a cat.
Breathing quickly and feeling inexplicably winded, Blaise followed through the door. The hallways of the manor were dark, and through teeth gritted in pain he murmured, "Lumos".
Nothing happened.
Perhaps I just mispronounced the Latin... "Lumos!" This time, a small and weak silvery spark came out of his wand, falling to the ground and dying. In a jolt of awareness, Blaise realized that his magic was gone. In a near panic, he pushed up the sleeve and looked at his arm, but it remained pulsing pain, offering no answers. Racking his brain, the solution came to him in one solid whomp of knowledge and memory.
Edgar Fenwick, the man who had Marked him, had said that Blaise would not be Summoned, that there was no need of his physical presence for the purpose of the Mark's magic to be fulfilled. It was known to the Dark forces that Blaise was not loyal to them, and would not be loyal despite being Marked as one of theirs. However, if the Mark was being used to drain him of his magical power and send it elsewhere...
"Oh Maria sacra..." Blaise ran as fast as he could through the pitch black halls, though found that after thirty seconds of running he could barely take another step. Evidently the magical draining was effecting his physical strength as well. His wand was useless; he would have nothing to defend himself with. As he passed through the room covered with medieval weaponry, he paused. He remembered how to use a foil well enough... wrenching a gleaming sword and its accompanying shield off of the wall, and trying not to notice how heavy it felt, Blaise sped off into the shadows.
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| Mmmm... heatwave! |
[17 Jun 2004|12:47pm] |
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mood |
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 hot |
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music |
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Don Henley - Boys of Summer |
] |
And thank God, too. England summers aren't nearly as warm as Italian ones, and I do live for the heat...
Draco and I have Great Plans to go outside and mess around the Quidditch pitch for a few hours. And yes, if it gets any hotter, one (or both) of us may take our shirts off. Ladies, calm yourselves, and consider it a benefit of the weather.
Later on today I fully intend on making limone gelato, so if any wants some, you'd better suck up to me now.
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| [Warded quite tightly against any and all eyes but his own] |
[13 Jun 2004|01:20am] |
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mood |
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simmering |
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music |
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Radiohead: No Surprises |
] |
Post NEWT-ing yesterday I headed out to London to help Gabrielle and Charles move into their new flat. I had my reservations about them moving back to England, but Gabi's right - Charles is hopeless at languages, and neither of them truly fit in Rome. I unpacked boxes and made lunch for them, all the while wondering how exactly I was going to tell Gabi about... it. The Mark.
No, I hadn't told her. It seemed a poor decision to tell her something... like that... right before her wedding, especially since I was to give her away. So when Charles had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up a new cauldron and rug, I sat Gabi down and simply told her what had happened. Her reaction was decidedly worse than I had been expecting.
I knew it! I knew it! Have you told her? Your girlfriend?! I knew you were hiding something at my wedding; I can't believe that you... oh sod it, si, posso crederlo! Lo so. You've always followed them; you always tried to straddle the line look where it got you! Come tuo Papa!
That was about the time that I lost my temper, she lost hers to an even greater extent, Charles came out and encountered two murderous Italians ready to hex each other apart. I don't really even think I know if I stormed out or if Gabi kicked me out; the next thing that's really clear is sitting on the roof surrounded by melted armor that I had torched. Hermione was out at Hogsmeade during my fit of rage, which in retrospect I'm grateful for. She deserved a night off.
I went to bed early, miserable and exhausted, when who should come crashing through the door around 2 in the morning but a very drunken Hermione supported by none other than an equally drunken Ron and Harry. Fabulous. Once they left I saw to giving Hermione as much water to drink as possible, and got her out of her clothes. We stayed up and talked some (seems like I need to be having a chat with Dean about the propriety of dancing that way with another's girlfriend), spending some much needed quality time together. I don't even want to know why Lavender and Parvati were talking to her of marriage and... er.. relations with me. I'm just going to pray that she doesn't remember talking to me about such subjects else I'm in for another awkward conversation.
I woke up late in the morning to an owl from Gabi apologizing for how she acted, and would I please come visit again? I've not written her back yet, though I intend to.
She can damn well wait for a reply.
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| Hold me. |
[10 Jun 2004|11:12am] |
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mood |
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scared |
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music |
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My Bloody Valentine: Soon |
] |
Oh god.
Time for Astronomy.
Time to wish on my lucky star that I pass this NEWT.
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| My Predicament: |
[08 Jun 2004|10:38pm] |
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mood |
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 hyper |
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music |
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The Buzzcocks: Ever Fallen in Love with Someone |
] |
Oh god, I think that I broke something vital in my brain studying. That or I've been sitting for too long.
WHEEEE!
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| [Private Entry of Zabini, Blaise] |
[01 Jun 2004|09:14pm] |
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mood |
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 calm |
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music |
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The Cure: Love Cats |
] |
Well, it's official. My brother in law is a Muggleborn.
Heh, I bet Mum and Dad are ready to kill themselves.
The wedding went well, all things considered. Gabi threw about 3 dozen hissy fits, Charles' parents looked as if they were afraid someone was going to do some sort of scary magic trick to them at any moment (I swear, hex the couch to grow teeth and drool once and they never forget it), and there was a brief scare involving a man who one of my uncles swore was my father. Said man was in actuality a Muggle postman who was 4'7 with red hair and freckles. Right.
But the wedding was nice... Pretty flower arrangements, I guess. Lots of my female relatives cried, some for different reasons than others. Aunt Cunnizia can't really believe that two of her brother's kids are interested in Mudbloods, much less one succeeded in marrying said Mudblood. She's paranoid about me now; every time I saw her she reminded me that the bloodline is thinning and if I produce a child with a Mudblood then the possibility of said child being a squib goes up by 40% or some such figure and do I want a squib for a kid and blah blah blah blah blah.
It's a good thing, really, that I kept Hermione in England and didn't bring her along for the wedding like Gabrielle suggested. First of all, if Aunt Cunnizia didn't outright curse her, she'd have to endure boring and embarrassing lectures, second of all, talking about the future or kids with my girlfriend is quite possibly the most horribly horrible horror ever on the face of this planet.
Thankfully, I got back on Sunday night - Hermione had owled me with good news! The snakes had won the Quidditch cup for this year! It's bloody brilliant - Draco hasn't been this happy since he was shagging Justin with Mills on the side. Still, I'm a bit sad that I didn't play in the last two games of my seventh year.
Whatever, maybe they won because I didn't play.
....oh yeah, that cheered me up.
Anyway, coming home to Hermione was interesting. I showed up still dressed in my best wizarding robes, the flower pinned to my robes only beginning to wilt, and there she was, my Snidget - dressed in practically rags, ink stains all over her hands, and her hair so bushy it was a good foot and a half away from her actual head. I about died laughing; she's not looked so wretched in ages.
I'd missed her terribly. It's a strange thing, really, seeing Hermione in her don't-bother-me-with-grooming-I-must-make-stellar-grades mode and not even caring that she looks as if she should be selling Big Issue on the streets of Bath.
Merlin help me, I think it's cute.
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| [Warded to Draco] |
[31 May 2004|10:02am] |
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 jubilant |
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Weeee are the champiiooonnns my friiieeennndsss |
] |
Just for your performance in the Quidditch game on Saturday, you get a culinary goodie of your choice.
Name the time, name the place, name the goodie.
-Blai
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| [Updated from his cousins' computer in Rome] |
[29 May 2004|01:58am] |
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mood |
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 rushed |
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music |
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Gabi spazzing about the catering |
] |
Quick update before Paolo gnabs back the computer!!
I'm in Italy for the weekend and I should be back on Sunday. As most of you know, my sister is getting married and she wanted me around to freak out at. I'm staying with one of my aunts and my insane cousins; Francesca's making me cook and
healt ewtujdskkkdkkkkkkkkk dfgewoiroiwpgjdsa jd orewa
...sorry, that was Antonio being OH SO CLEVER and hexing the keyboard to attack me. The long strand of K's would be where it made contact with my head.
I'm never going to survive this wedding.
Okay, I've got to go before Gabrielle kills me.
edited to add: Hermione, Gabrielle and Charles loved your card and say "Thank you so very much".
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| Kitchen Update |
[26 May 2004|08:02pm] |
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mood |
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thieving little bastards!!! |
] |
Where is my fresh basil?! I put it down on the counter five minutes ago, turned around to yell at a first year who dared to stick his finger in the marinating mushrooms, and when I looked again, it was gone!
If the missing ingredient is not found within the hour I will hang up my chef's hat and refuse to make my famous funghi e basilica on toast in protest for the underhandedness of several denizens of this sorry excuse for a school!
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| [Private Note to Self] |
[25 May 2004|07:55pm] |
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mood |
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determined |
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music |
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The Pixies: This Monkey Gone to Heaven |
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I've not spoken more than three sentences to Hermione strung together in the past few days because we've both been working so hard, and those three sentences were "Pass that book, please", "What page number?" and "Goodnight" respectively.
This is barbarous and entirely no fun. Time to work my prodigious charm and change the flow of the tides...
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| Blah |
[18 May 2004|02:51pm] |
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mood |
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aggravated |
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music |
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the Pixies: Bone Machine |
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Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm alive.
Revising (or the avoidance of revising) is taking up far too much of my precious time. If it wasn't for this blasted coursework, I might actually be my usual social butterfly self, but as texts are piling up on texts, I realize that actually enjoying my final year here isn't going to happen.
So hmph.
Whatever, I'm study-breaking in the kitchen. If you're hungry for bruschetta, visit and I might feed you in a pathetic attempt to avoid my astronomy text.
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| [Sent in Multiple Trips by a Tired Looking Owl to Professor Snape] |
[13 May 2004|12:54pm] |
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mood |
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accomplished |
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Blaise's Final Potions Project: [as detailed here]
included with a thick packet of parchments explaining his methodology, brewing patterns, failures and successes are more than two dozen capped, colourful beakers which have been meticulously labeled according to flavour. Among others, the flavours are: Dutch chocolate, rice pilaf, fresh strawberries, pizza, filet mignon (medium rare), blueberry muffins, teriyaki chicken, and iced pear.
Among his notes, he indicates that his most dramatic success has been a catalyst (flavoured with passion fruit) that quickens the heating process of a healing potion by 46.789 percent. In the same vein of healing potions, blueberry muffins flavour (45.390 percent), popcorn flavour (42.632 percent), mint chocolate chip ice cream flavour (33.982 percent) and pumpkin juice flavour (27.893) were also successful.
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| [Private Entry of Zabini, Blaise; HEAVILY warded] |
[11 May 2004|02:20pm] |
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mood |
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busy |
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music |
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David Bowie: Changes |
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Something's up with Millicent. I don't wish to disturb her during this time of intense NEWT-ing, but... I get the impression that her recent bout of distance is due to something more serious than just memorizing cuneiforms for Ancient Runes. It's odd. Draco's at a loss as to what's going on as well. Methinks that we'll both have to glomp and demand information before too much more time passes.
In other matters... Hermione's been doing exactly what I expected her to do this time of the year - take up residence in the library. For the past few nights I've woken up around 2 or 3 in the morning, thrown on some basic clothes, and found her asleep in various cubbyholes around the school covered in ink, parchment and open books. At least we were able to grab a holiday last weekend - I think that she enjoyed her surprise. The hallway leading up to the piano is a bit smaller now than it was due to the spacial charms, but at least her grand fits. I can't wait to move to the flat once and for all, and get a headstart on the rest of my life with her with her oh bother, she scared me the other day when she asked about what I wanted in the future re: 'us'. GAH. It about made my hair frizz. Fine I'll leave it in: with her. Hogwarts is beginning to feel constraining, oddly.
I'm sending off my potions project ASAP... likely tomorrow. It's done. I need to stop bloody tweaking it lest I ruin it. And... urgh. I've got some brainstorming to do about the lovely little Mark on my arm. Dumbledore's not going to write back; if I'm going to be on my bloody own with this than I need to figure out why the hell they've Marked me... why they said that there was no need for me to be Summoned. Why the Mark itself was enough to satisfy Him...
...brainstorming about that for an hour, then finishing up the Potions Project, then studying astronomy for an hour, then cooking and hopefully luring out Mills or Drake for some chat, then more studying, then collecting my passed out girlfriend and dragging her back to the RoR.
Busy day, busy day.
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| [Private Entry of Zabini, Blaise] |
[07 May 2004|09:39pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 okay |
] |
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music |
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The Cure: Friday I'm in Love |
] |
I think that if I throw one more hissy fit in the library, Pince or her little helper 'Dora will murder me. I need to remember that others beside myself can speak Italian; Rhiannon for one, and Smythe, and the afore-mentioned Radan. Either I've grown more short-circuited or I actually care about the upcoming NEWTs.
I think it's the latter. Perhaps it's Hermione's influence, or perhaps I'm overcompensating for the self-loathing guilt, but I feel obligated to actually try on this batch of tests. I don't just want high scores; I want to be at the top of the scores for my class. My final potions project is so close to done; I think I'm writing a book on all my observations. I'm aware of my inner-geek, but it's rapidly becoming an outer one. The other day I forgot to take off my hideous glasses after a bout of heavy reading and accidentally wore them into Potions. It was only when I saw Hermione trying not to laugh and tapping the bridge of her nose that I realized that my intense gorgeousness had been marred.
I don't seem to be the only one reevaluating things or settling down either. It seems that Nathan's in a strop; Megan's been searching over the entire school to find him. Potter's taken out that ridiculous earring (he probably was just copying Draco, the prat) and his glasses have returned as well. 'mione's relieved, I'm sure. She didn't like the way he's been acting the past few months, and really, who could blame her? So he saved all of wizardkind by virtue of having a clever mum, big deal. I'd rather be remembered for creating the perfect gnocchi.
Meanwhile, plans for after graduation are solidifying - Hermione got the job as a healer for St. Mungos! When she received the letter, she ran into the room as if she'd drank three pots of coffee. I've hardly ever seen her so excited, and it was definitely catching. Imagine that, a real job! It's utterly brilliant that she got exactly what she wanted. Merlin knows that with her hard work that she deserves it. With a little luck, perhaps I'll be on similarly stable ground in a few weeks. After the Ministry rejected my application, I've applied to several other businesses that have requested brewers, but... nothing yet. Well, that's not quite true; I was accepted for a position at a rather sketchy business in Knockturn Alley, but it's not prudent to accept that given my other connections.
Still nothing from Dumbledore. I'm not sure what to think. Perhaps I should write again, because there's no way in hell that I'm going for much longer without telling someone official about my... problem. Which reminds me... something Fenwick said... I'd best think on it, because it just doesn't make sense...
The surprise for Hermione will be successful, I think. The people I needed to contact have all written back; so it's only a matter of getting a free afternoon or day to visit the flat. Ugh, I need just a day off, with her - the laughing and horseplay that ensued when she received her apprenticeship was bloody brilliant. We need more moments like that.
Right, I'll set to it.
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sly_blaise's journal
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