Dedicated to Alorabrackenfor inspiring me to write this again. Sorry if it's crap I am having a few difficulties getting back into the style of it but I hope it's ok.
More to come soon.
Enjoy!
Settling in
It's been a month, a long, echoing, yet silent month.
I settled into Hogwarts quite happily, the rooms in the tower opulent and ample for my needs, to ample in fact, I barely inhabit but two of the rooms.
All my old teachers – minus professor Sprout of course, are still here, Professor McGonnagol who insists on having me call her Minerva, which I still haven't managed yet.
Professor Flitwick who enjoys hours of aimless chat before my fire with a glass of fire whiskey, I don't mind, I like him, although he doesn't like it if I smoke. However I endure the withdrawal symptoms and the aggro, he is a lonely man…I know what it is like to be lonely.
Horror of horrors Professor Snape still resides in his lonely dungeon, he is older now, and if possible crabbier. I dread the time when I must see him to discuss the latest needed ingredient for potions, he always sneers at the size of my shrivelfigs or the colour of the Gurdyroot.
Life should be fuller and sweeter now, and yet there is a hole, a huge, aching hole and it hurts so much that sometimes I wish it would hurry up and consume me entirely, for isn't that what holes do?
It's Saturday today and as usual I am half way through my second bottle of fire whiskey and am down to my last packet of fags. It annoys me when that happens because I have to apparate to the nearest muggle town to get more.
Although I'm better at apperating now, better at most things…better at living.
Who am I kidding?
There are several things I get on these muggle town trips including fags, for instance I've always loved muggle chocolate and for some reason their salami is particularly good.
I indulge myself with these little luxuries now, simply because I can, I do everything simply because I can…I wish it helped.
You see I chose this life because I didn't have one before, or well I had a pitiful one before, but now I see that it isn't a life, like living with my Grandmother it's simply existing.
Glumly I look through the muggle choices of alcohol as I make my way towards the checkout, I wonder what Bailey's is like, it looks quite cool so I dump it in my basket along with some rose. I think Blaise must have rubbed off on me when it comes to tastes in alcohol, although I doubt he would have brought rose at £1.99 a bottle.
I doubt he would have brought anything under £100.
I have a routine in the morning, a strict regime. I wake up at seven o'clock, I drink tea with fag on the balcony for no longer than fifteen minutes and then shower in twenty, dress in ten and head out for the greenhouses.
Yes…I know, I haven't got away from a life of routine, but I believe I'm used to it and it takes awhile to break habits.
There's a chill in the air in the mornings recently, I believe autumn must be setting in.
There's a small person waiting for me outside greenhouse three, I usually work there in the mornings so this is not surprising, It must be a student although they are so wrapped up in clothing it's hard to tell, although their wearing a skirt so I'm guessing it's a girl.
As I make my way towards them a cool little voice makes its way from beneath a rather large scarf obscuring half their face.
"May I come in?"
"Of course you can." I say puzzling over why she's here and holding the door for her out of politeness.
I like magical greenhouses; they are so much warmer then muggle ones.
I wait politely for her to speak, she doesn't and so I grow nervous, shifting from side to side until the silence grows unbearable.
In an attempt to hide my nervousness I move to my workbench and start to re-pot some pixie roses for Professor Flitwick.
Soon I grow so engrossed in my task that I manage to forget she's there, so quiet she remains. I think of Grandmother and her last spite filled letter, I think of the day's lessons and the difficult task that awaits me in the evening in the form of searching for moonflowers in the forbidden forest.
Lastly I think of Blaise, but only for a second, for I fear I shall die if let the pain consume-
It is with a start I realise the bell is ringing for first lesson and I look up to tell the girl she must go – but the door is already closing behind her.
I stare into my ice filled Baileys and wonder if perhaps I could stomach another glass. The balcony around me is already swaying and I am beginning to regret eating a whole salami sausage for tea.
I have lessons tomorrow but I don't care, what use in partaking in but one glass only to go to bed and lie awake trying desperately not to think and yet doing it anyway.
No use I think, swirling the glass and glaring at it blearily, much more fun to drink it all away and then fall into bed in a drunken stupor.
The stars are my only friends tonight, Professor Flitwick it seems, has found a better friend in the new Professor of runes, yet he still wants me to continue re-potting his roses…funny that.
In fact the only person who seems generally interested in seeking out my company these days is the girl who visits me now every morning, I did tell you about her didn't I…
But it's been a week now, and still the reason for her visits remains a mystery, she just stands and watches me, and you know it's funny because I've yet too see her face, or ask her name.
I down the rest of my Bailey's and lever myself out of my chair, time for bed, before I run out of distracting thoughts.
Ooh, no, no…trip to the bathroom first I think.
I don't think Professor Dumbledore's very pleased with me, rushing into second lesson half an hour late looking like I've been dragged though a hedge backwards is not the kind of example he expects his teachers to set for the children.
I got a strict telling off this morning and orders to retire to bed to sleep off the hangover. I was rather disappointed in myself too actually, that's the first time I've been unable to get up after a heavy night. That Bailey's is potent stuff.
So now here I am once again on my balcony just about to partake in a sample of that rose I brought. I'm hoping it'll be a little kinder then the Bailey's. Oh don't get me wrong I did sleep, that's why it's now about nine o'clock.
I pour myself some of the wine and am about to sit back and relax when there is a knock upon the door.
Sighing heavily and hoping to hell it isn't Dumbledore I make my way to the door and open it slowly.
My heart, my poor heart almost leaps out of my chest, I can envision it now, palpating on the ground in a pool of blood, silvery under the moonlight.
"I wondered where you were this morning sir, I came to see if you were alright and to give you some Honeydukes chocolate, I've heard it's good for hangovers."
I clutch the doorframe and gaze at her dazedly, can this be happening.
"Err…please…tell me your name." I almost beg.
"Courtney." She replies.
We gaze at each other, and we both know, know that the other knows and I feel like falling to my knees.
All this time, she's known who I am and she, she's continued to spend time with me.
After a time I find the words.
"But don't you hate me?"
Quietly she places the chocolate in my hand and turns to go, for a moment I fear she will leave without answering.
"You made my father happy…I was wondering if you would have the same effect on me."
She descends the steps and I watch her slowly disappear, until at the last moment when I realise there is a question left unasked.
"And do I?"
Her steps falter and I hear a pause… "I've yet to decide."