Taylor's Box of Secrets

Dear Journal,

I am not happy. Diseases, diseases, diseases, nothing is safe here. I remain in the commons far often than what I'd prefer. I am to go back and forth, between the classes and the commons, and very rarely anywhere else for my family is fearful of illnesses so I would not want to catch one. My house members are the better ones for me to converse with on regular basis, I suppose, but I am impatient and fear that by the time I am frustrated enough to go against the instructions of the letter, I will not be able to throw my pebbles over the lake as well as I used to.

An insignificant worry, yes, but when one sees how many empty seats there are at meal times, I prefer them to more serious ones. It had taken me weeks to put a bit of a spin on my wrist, I had thought perhaps I would see a bounce soon. Not as impressive as Kyle, but good enough for me. What a waste of practise, I would have unlearned it all by now.

I still have Karen's things. Her bag, her little knick-knacks, clogging up space in my wardrobe. I cannot remember what she wants me to do, but I will do it if it matters. Hopefully it is not obvious that I am too weary of the thought of going to the infirmary to visit. I did not have a chance to speak with Jonathan until he got sick too, but I probably would not have anyway. I still do not like Cathal.

Dear Journal,

I do not know if Meslana knows my family deals in the arts, or if it was merely by chance, but she drew a miraculous portrait of me when I was studying in the library, just when Dillion and Patrick left us. I told her I was not fond of looking at myself, and that she might keep it in her portfolio, but she seemed to hope I would keep it or find someone to give it to. I did not want to disappoint her, for she was kind enough, so I sent it to Father. He will like it. Or if he does not like it, he will lie rather than offend me. I will have to see in his letter tomorrow.

I had breakfast with Blair Alexander today. Of course, it was unplanned, we just happened to have dropped by the kitchens at the same time. I think we are to be friends. I might be wrong, but I do not think so. I share a fraction more of my true attitudes with her than I would to someone not quite so related through house and upbringing, but I will not be unwise. She is skittish; and awkwardness is sometimes a mask of dislike.

As a general rule, however, I should never speak of my mother, even to compliment a remark on another person's mother. Kinship, in some small measure, is rarely the result as it might have been this time.

Dear Journal,

I will have to go to the library again to pick up a few novels to keep busy this weekend. I dropped off my last two textbooks into the common room earlier this evening. Rhian was checking on things before she went to bed and Alfie was giving Romuald a few tips on charm casting. Blair Alexander popped in also, but I believe she is as fond of books as I am. She left soon, I believe, to catch up on a bit of reading herself.

What turned into a simple inquiry over his progress with Georgiana became a rather lengthy conversation about cross-house relationships. A concept in which I ought to be typically opposed to, for nothing if not individuality. And plenty other good reasons. Romuald believes he adores Hufflepuff girls and could not like a Slytherin one, whereas Alfie was the opposite. I am surprised they are wise in this manner, or at least think themselves wise. I know I am not so I maintained a penchant for generalised answers.

Romuald told me that some of the advice I had given him had helped him a great deal. That was very nice of him. I do not know who his Mollie is, probably the same one Kyle wants to kiss, but I am pleased his friendship with her made Georgiana appreciate him more. Manipulative, some might say, but the result is a happy one.

They all seem very similar. Boys.

Dear Journal,

Birthdays do not even matter in the grand scheme of things. By the time a person dies, they will have had many of them, so how important are they really? One cannot say it is a tragedy that others have forgotten to remark upon something that one has not even publically disclosed. My sisters sent me packages. All of them, this year, which was surprising and difficult to carry from the Great Hall. I had to ask a housemate to assist me. Father did not send anything but he does not celebrate today, which we are all used to.

I am one year closer to adulthood and this frustrates me. There is a list of things I am supposed to do and I feel I have not made enough of a dent. Later tonight, when the day is done with and my friends are asleep, I think I will go to the Kitchens and have myself something sweet to eat. Perhaps I will ask for a little candle to put in it. That is all I need.

I will visit Karen. Perhaps I will see her friend with her, the one Romuald had trouble with. I will belatedly thank Kyle for that breakfast picnic last term with a lunch parcel. I would have to sign my name on it or deliver it myself, however. He might think it was sent by Molly and then feel sour when he realised it was only me being grateful. I wonder how Patrick is doing. Well, no, I am relatively aware of how he is; some people so enjoy remarking of his doings and finding something to laugh at. Some people laugh at anything.

Dear Journal,

Even the train ride was enjoyable for me regardless that my stomach always ends up feeling a little ill by the end of it. I am together with the majority of my house friends, another year closer to graduation, and relieved for all these things. I do wonder what stories there are to catch up on, or if there are any at all. There usually are, so I am not without a measure of expectation. I hope that those few friends I have who are unfortunately not wearers of the Slytherin crest had a good holiday. If they did not, though, well... there is nothing I can do about that. Secretly welcome them to the club, perhaps.

It is nice to be back. All apart from having to hear Diana snoring when I am trying to sleep. I have the slightest feeling she might trade beds with Hannah at the end of the week. Hannah does not sound like a bear choking on a fish when she is sleeping, I have heard. Hmm.

Dear Journal,

I have three sisters, each much older than I am, but Jocelyn could possibly be the more suffocating. Jocelyn's husband, Craig, enjoys the house also while Father is gone. Though I have found brick walls with more character, he does try to be sociable, but what kindness I try to develop is often destroyed when he wins a game of Wizard's Chess, or any other board game he talks me into playing, for he jumps up and begins screaming in celebration every time. His glasses fell off once while he was hollering, and they are gigantic things, but such was his passion that he barely noticed that the ground practically shook when they landed. When I win, he sulks and gruffly insists on a rematch. It has become a constant goal to be able to reject these invitations to leave him reflecting on his losses, but it is not satisfying as success occurs so rarely. I wish he were not so much better than I.

With all the problems in Diagon Alley in the past, there have been only a handful of times which I have been travelling through. I saw Kyle the first time. My entrance was not graceful, for my cousin is a cruel imbecile, and nor was the greater bulk of the conversation that followed. He wishes to kiss a girl named Molly because Acacia is not around him often enough to provide this kind of affection herself. I do not understand. But I should not care. It is none of my business, though that has never stopped me before, but it will not be a tale for the mongers.

Unless, of course, Acacia jumped out of thin air and flung paint onto my shoes, which would never happen. And even then, as far as I saw in that last game, her aim is such that she would probably just miss anyway.

There was a book sale and a gathering of other schoolboys on another occasion, and a clumsy girl on a third. I bought a few novels myself and I have read them all. Three were terrible, one was tolerable, two were almost good. I do miss Karen, for my cat does not have such lively jokes. I miss a few of my other friends also. It will not be sad for me to return to school. I am looking forward to it, truly!

( My miserable bloody doll. )

Dear Journal,

I do not understand how time can pass differently from one person to another. I have been told the year has flown by quickly, but I beg to differ. For me, it has been neither fast nor slow, just as last year was and the year before that. Everyone must just get so excited about the holidays that they begin to exaggerate. In his resent letter, Papa has mentioned a chance he might be away for a great deal of time during the holidays. This does not please me. One of my sisters may very well decide to visit now. Or I may have to stay with one of them in their their house, if he is to be gone for such a time that I would not be allowed to remain at home.

I would rather rot for two months in the rubbish bin of Cousin Jude's apartment, although Father's brothers ridicule Mot Claudette's extended family in private for their lack of fortune. I do not cherish their inferiority in this manner, but I do genuinely care for and will see them nevertheless. Their lines are still proper, that is the important thing. A shame Cousin Jude would be too busy to receive me.

I met Valentine Selkirk this evening too. I thought he would be much more arrogant, so much I told him, having heard him mentioned as the 'Prince of Gryffindor' which, for any reason, sounded most ridiculous. He is not as typically boyish as I expected either. That could have been just because he was in a nightgown though. I felt, many times, he smiled without meaning it, but that is not so terrible for I did not mean all of mine either. But he seems kind so I will be the same.

I ought to consider visits and the like. To whom? The thought escapes me.

Dear Journal,

It could not have been more beautiful had I been the one to tell poor Jonathan, by the sounds of things. Whisper in the right places, and an answer comes running back. Patrick was there and did his own little critique of dear Cathal, or so it is said, after Jonathan had tried his case. I do wonder how KC shall take the news; not well, I imagine. Poor thing.

I cannot help but smirk, however, for I do not like Cathal. And if his housemates will turn on him, who would not?

Dear Journal,

Gryffindors seem to be following me these days and I am not sure why. I was studying in an empty classroom this afternoon when a boy ran in with his shirt half-off. Nikolay Cartejena. Apart from his entrance, he was extremely pleasant during his brief visit. And then there was Cathal. Cathal, who I think, quite likes the reputation he says he has. If he did not, he would not so openly explain it. 'Inane and flirtatious', for he has tremendous luck with girls; having never been rejected and, as Nikolay did say, many hearts break and flutter at the mention of his name alone.

Perhaps I read him terribly wrong even now, for I still harbour irritation due to his argument against my plotting when I had done my very best to seem very offhand when I spoke of my dear KC's infatuation with him. There are sharper boys who have not noticed my ways, so I was most incensed. I accepted his apology for the misinterpretation. Me? Plotting? Imbecile. He helped me with the name of KC's older brother and aspects of my studies, however, and I was genuinely thankful. Jonathan. I hope he is a protective sort, who may not like the idea of his sister being involved with a "heart-throb".

Is he truly vain, I wonder, or did I completely misjudge? Oh, it hardly matters. Plots backfire, he warned me. Not if you are smart, Cathal.

Speaking of smart, I hope Tristan Morgan solved the details of his mystery.

( The animal meme! )

Dear Journal,

I do not know much about quidditch, but I am not daft enough to not see that Hufflepuff were not impressive. Ravenclaw won the cup. Not that my compliments could ever mean much, for I am no connoisseur, but my Gryffindor acquaintances played well. If I see Patrick around, I ought to tell him so. Tristan sat with me during the game and we talked some. He is still very pleasant to me and I am pleased we seem to be becoming friends. I am no fool; I can sense he has the capacity to be colder to a person. That I am exempt of such treatment is not something I am inclined to alter. I do not know how he is entertained by me.

After taking my coat from the commons where Tristan walked and left me, I returned to finish a few doodles in my notebook down by the lake, and soon came Kyle fresh from celebrating his house’s partial win. I know we are becoming friends also but there are moments when I think I would be better to avoid him, like after he asked me who I thought to be handsome and I assured him that his personality betters his own physical attributes needlessly. He was very "flattered". I despise the word flattered. I despise how people use it, for it translates to 'That is so lovely, but...' That was not how I meant it at all.

Doreen Magni educated me on his parents and his Acacia. It made me snarl for I am very susceptible to jealousy, and I must say I smiled each moment she missed the quaffle; a beautifully recurring incident. All happy lovers do that to me somehow so this mightn't be some special case, but either way I believe I still have no desire to pursue any romance of my own. Perhaps that is why I liked seeing Courtney cry when she read the letter I wrote in Philippe’s honor so very much.

I fear I might be a very ugly person in this way. If Kyle knew, I think he would not care so much about arrogance.

Dear Journal,

It has not been a very busy day, but I did make my mind up to tie up a few loose ends of mine before something else may have the chance to fall upon my plate. While Courtney Cross is sadly not to attend the spring formal due to the belated reconsideration of her now ex-boyfriend, Philippe, Opal is not so unfortunate. She is very nice to me now, and though I think I am rather easy to please with the demands I give her, for I am rather inexperienced with blackmail, it is still very strange how far a person might go for a silly dance.

Whether Romuald uses the things I sent over for him is his own decision, but I did not want him to think I couldn't come through on my word. Taylor Statham does not keep all of her promises necessarily, but she has no choice sometimes with those given in public and to people with potentially large mouths. I will call upon Opal whenever he likes. This mightn't mean the boy is considered dearly, but I do not dislike him enough to not give some assistance. I do not know how it might go with Georgiana, but matters of the heart are usually resolved quickly, aren't they? Personally I would not know, but from what I have studied, it would certainly seem so.

What else do I need to do? Punish KC, my silly bean, and discover her secret. Would her brother know, I wonder? Be friendly the next time I see Kyle fo and Patrick, for hopefully the wedding preparations have been called off. Say hello to Tristan in class tomorrow. Find a rival in some academic arena, perhaps, for I work faster when it is a competition.

Dear Journal,

I think perhaps Kyle is making up for the years where we did not speak to each other. I did not know who wrote the note to me last night, although he did come to mind once, but I was still very surprised when I came down in the morning and saw that he was the sender. He prepared a breakfast for us, but I had taken so long and the morning was so cool that the food had grown cold and the tea was lukewarm. I ate like I didn't notice, for no one has put in such effort to spend time with me before.

He was disappointed at the absense of romance between Patrick and I. I glared at him unintentionally for an instant before I could catch myself. I did not like thinking of myself as a scientific experiment. It was a good time, however, as Kyle is very fun and never bores me.

Also, I believe Tristan Morgan to be a classmate I ought to say hello to in my classes more often, for he was very helpful when I needed a hand today. I was blamed for Courtney and Opal Cross' chatter in class and had to move a bundle of hay in the barn after the final bell. Like Tristan said, some people are not built for manual labour. Some people, he meant me. So he did it for me. If I were he, I would not have been so generous. I have never heard his name in gossip and he did not irritate me, so I did not lie when I said we shall have to be friends. Boys are the most helpful in those moments.

On the topic of girls, Courtney and Opal Cross. Their dates will have pulled out of the dance by this time tomorrow. I wonder if they will be so loud then.

Dear Journal,

Glitches sometimes appear even when I am among a few of my housemates. In the middle of the commonroom, where I was with a few Slytherin boys sitting about the place, Romuald tells both Anthony and myself that his first choice for a date to the spring formal rejected him because of his house and his family, and that he would like for me to take her place. This would make her change her mind, you see.

It is a good cause; even though I have more in common with his beloved Georgiana in that I wouldn’t wish to be the date of a boy with a scandalized father either. Out of boredom, however, I expressed sympathy for Romuald and offered to assist his retaliation in some capacity. I may or may not, but it’ll certainly not be by accepting his invitation to the dance, even in the name of revenge. One should never throw rocks in glass houses, father always says, and Romuald could be a stone for me. Something for others to mock me for. I cannot allow that.

My temper was stirred by the fact he asked me in such a public setting. Other housemates arrived soon after Anthony went to bed, at least, to successfully distract me. Blaire’s banter with Rickon and Maxi made me giggle.

I will come up with an excuse and have to go through with it. Going to the dance in any way seems impossible.

Dear Journal,

So much for having time, I saw both Kyle and Patrick this afternoon when I stopped by the memorial garden to find my locket. Kyle was sleeping flat on the grass, but I woke him and he couldn't get back to sleep. I apologised but I did not mean it, because he makes me laugh far more when he's awake. That says a bit about him; the worth of a tragic many grows tremendously in the moments they're unconscious. I think he has a finer talent for comedy than for match-making.

We talked about this and that, and were silly by the fountain for a moment. I ran to get away from him and he fell over, which makes it the first time I somehow bettered someone in such a manner. With or without assistance. Patrick arrived soon after and Kyle left to write a letter to his adoptive parents, the result of a situation I had Doreen recite to me this evening (for ignorance is not bliss), so rather than remain there, I said I had to go back to the castle but he was free to come also. So instead of playing chess with the venemous tentacula, he came.

He was very nice to me and I tried to not be a bore for I appreciated not facing the terror that some housemates have described to me, but I try to be very careful in our conversions. I may call him either Patrick or Pat. I cleverly fibbed and mentioned that I despise dances. That, at least, I could share and openly laugh with Mimi about at dinner until my cheeks went pink.

I positively adore dances.

Dear Journal,

I can get very little study done with KC nearby... but I will not pretend that, at times, that girl doesn’t prove to be an entertaining disruption. Even in a library, as it was today. She tried to hide a bit of paper with hearts and names on it when she shuffled her books over to make room for mine. So, she certainly likes a boy... and refused to show me the paper when I demanded she do so.

I told her that I would discover it whether she told me or not, for I do not like to leave a book half-read and I adore quests, but she did not relent; instead bringing up some Cathal fellow, perhaps to make me think it was he who she was enamoured with. At first I did, but then I remembered… no, a person does not act so avoidant, only to reveal their secret a moment later. It is not Cathal. I almost want to punish KC for trying to be so slick and sly with me.

Perhaps when I discover who the boy is, now for the very sake of continuity, I may have ‘coincidentally’ heard dreadful things about him? Oh, I don’t know. Just a thought, a vague and absent one.

Most importantly, and in her favour, she caught me up on the current happenings. It’s all about the ‘dating scene’, apparently, what with this person going on a date with this person as well as that person, and I truly appreciate KC for telling me. I do not have personal relationships with many of these people, but it is good to know what is occurring in your cocoon. I have heard of Dillion before, I think.

Dear Journal,

Yesterday was a great big snore, I daresay. Today? Heh. A little better.

I'm an absolute travesty with physical things, I'm sure most people know that and I'm not ashamed to admit it, so while everyone was playing about in the quidditch field banging into each other on their brooms, I decided to practise skipping stones. Which I'm terrible at, I’m hardly built for the outdoors, though the limitations placed on me by that trait infuriates me at times. Then Kyle Putnam, a boy from a few of my classes, showed up with Patrick McElroy. Silly Kyle, he hardly needed to introduce me; I’m certain every Slytherin knows who Patrick is. There’s so much love between the two, after all… ha!

Kyle was not subtle; he was doing his best to talk his friend up to the nearest half-decent girl, who just so happened to be me. The squeeze was sweeter than the juice, really, and it is sad he didn’t necessarily like my company because he found me particularly interesting as much as he sees me as a tool to boost Patrick’s self-esteem. Patrick himself was friendly and easier to converse with than they say, but perhaps it is because he left so soon.

I offered to see them again, but such an invitation is alleviated by the fact that I have never ran into them simultaneously, or individually in Patrick’s case, often. I have time to decide whether or not I just said it to be polite.