Journal Entry #6

July 24th 1997

I may have mentioned this before, but I feel the need to repeat myself so I can make a point – my godfather is completely insane. For some reason that is utterly beyond me he thinks that Remus can do a better job of getting me to 'behave like a civilized human being,' than he can. Honestly, I'm perfectly civilized, that's not what my problem is. At any rate, I'm currently at Remus' house.

And Remus just rolls his eyes at any mention of Sirius at the moment. Apparently, I'm not the only one who finds his … stuffiness… irritating. The conversation leading to me coming here was rather amusing, though.

Sirius: Remus would probably handle your behavior better.

Me: My behavior?

Sirius: Your inability to listen to anything any adult says to you.

Me: Who, me?

Sirius: I'm going to call Remus and see if he can take you for a week…

Me (Trying not to grin): Anything you say.

Sirius (eyeing me suspiciously): Are you feeling okay?

Me: Of course I'm feeling okay.

(A few minutes later.)

Remus: Okay, so why am I here?

Me: Because Sirius thinks you'll have better luck controlling me than he does, so he wants you to take me to your house for a week.

Remus: Oh... kay.

Sirius: Good.

Remus (Looking slightly confused): Right.

(At Remus' house)

Me: Thank god!

Remus (raising an eyebrow): What do you mean?

Me: I get a week away from the king of lectures. I am thanking any god I can think of for that at the moment. You have no idea how boring my room has become over the last five days or so. I am absolutely elated to be somewhere other than that stuffy house with my stuffy godfather.

Remus just laughed.

This is nowhere near as boring as being at Sirius' house. At least Remus will talk to me rather than say that if I'm bored I can just read. Much appreciated. Books are quite boring after awhile of only being able to read. I don't know what else to write. Do you think Sirius would notice if I decided not to finish this entry? Hmm… probably. I swear he's got eyes in the back of his head. I am going to do something fun. I don't care what and I don't care if I get caught. I'm going to do something that does NOT involve reading, writing, or studying in general.

And I'm going to enjoy it.

There's one problem with this idea – there's nothing to do. Remus lives in the middle of nowhere, so there's no muggle towns to visit, nothing to do at all. (Sigh.) I guess I'll just be bored. This is getting old, fast. Maybe I won't get drunk again, it somehow doesn't seem worth being grounded for three bloody weeks. Four if you count the one Sirius added because he has nothing better to do.

I've gone insane, if anyone cares enough to notice that I'm not acting like I usually do. Honestly, me considering not doing something because I don't like the consequences? That's not me at all. I normally say to hell with it and do whatever I want. I suppose I'm just pissed 'cause I actually got caught in the act this time.

It kind of reminds me of the time that I went to Hogsmeade when Pettigrew had escaped Azkaban, and I got caught coming back in – Remus was teaching that year and he was watching on the map – I think his younger self would be disappointed too. And then Remus called Sirius and I don't think I've seen him so angry, before or after. I mean, yeah he was angry when I came home drunk at three in the morning, but it was different.

I don't know why I'm writing about that. But I think he was more angry then because of the fact that Pettigrew was once his friend and he had broken out of prison to kill me and I was stupid enough to sneak out of school when he was after me. He was so angry it was almost scary. Sorry, did I say almost? It was frickin' scary.

But it got more scary when he went all calm and started mentioning that I was throwing away my life – my parents sacrifice – by risking my life. I don't think I'd ever felt so bad as I did in that moment.

(sigh) I over-wrote this entry. I'm done. Now I'm miserable. What ever happened to the thirteen year old who actually cared what was happening? What happened to me? I'm always … this is stupid. I'm done. Done. I hate this stupid diary and I'm beginning to think it's a torture method devised to make me go insane.

H.J.P.P.B.