Zara opens her journal, in her mind’s eye she casts her thoughts upon the castle grounds. She sees herself in a field, her icy cold stare moves across the surface of the lake, the beautiful scenery that surrounded her, then the castle, majestic in the background. And yet, as Zara sat on the field of grass in her mind, by the entrance to the Dark Forest, she was unimpressed. She picked up her quill, and began to write upon her journal. Once again, far away from everyone else. Alienated.
“Another year, a fresh start. Or so they say. The castle was attacked last year, and the students were called upon to help with the rebuilding process of Hogwarts. Isn’t that grand? Having witches and wizards work the grounds like common house elves. This place sometimes does sicken me.”
Zara put the quill down, took a quick break, read what she had written then closed her eyes and returned to the field, once again looking at the castle. Probably wouldn’t be able to tell now that it had been nothing but rubble and dust a couple months ago, and yet still inside that matriculate and majestic build, the rebuilding process of the castle was still in process. Just the other day they had gotten done with the common grounds, and the Quidditch pitch… and the school year was already in progress. Go figure. She picked up the quill and began to write once more.
“And that’s what bothers me so much. I mean.. It’s exploitation of students. Salazar Slytherin would have never stood for it. But.. I guess… that’s the way things are.. now. Sometimes I do believe my father was right. The place is complete filth, the world that is. Here we are, all powerful beings, strong, and proud, and with a gift that many would kill to have. And yet we hide like fugitives from the world. We hide from Muggles. And some even mix with them! The atrocity, it’s sickening. What would Salazar Slytherin say?
But then I think of my father.. and what he is.. and what he has done, and the thought scares me. The thought that I can think like him. I try hard not to. I’m trying so hard to change, but all I find is pain everywhere I turn. I don’t know much about the normal way of life, not even for a witch, but.. I don’t think this is it. Should a sixteen year old girl be the head of her household? With a father in Azcaban for the murder of her mother, and a brother and sister under her care? I wish I could be carefree like the other students. To feel happy. I don’t even know really what genuine happiness feels like. I’ve never felt it. I’ve had everything torn away from me. Emotions, that is. My father said they were for the weak, and it’s to the point that the scars now run past the skin, and into my mind.”
She stopped writing once more, her hand moved along her legs, where the many burn marks, and deep scars lay from her father’s vicious punishments throughout her youth before he was locked away. She closed her eyes tightly, imagined the wind moving through her black locks, the scent of the fresh grounds filling her senses, and finally, tears began to fall from her pinched hazel eyes. She opened her eyes, a couple tears fell on her journal, but she continued to pour her soul onto the pages.
“I fell in love with a Ravenclaw. A halfblood. If my father knew, I’d probably be dead too, but who cares? He has life in prison in Azcaban for his acts against my mother, and my siblings, and even myself. I got the worse, I was so afraid for them, I took the blame for what they did.. and yet.. to this day they don’t know the sacrifices I did for them. But.. Joseph kissed me, the Raveclaw prefect, and then.. he said he couldn’t be with me. He says he likes me.. but.. how can you like someone and kiss them, and then say you don’t want to be with them? Every time I see him my heart shatters. I try so hard.. so very hard to keep the old self at bay, not to attack, not to hate. But now all I do is hurt, and paint a smile upon my face as I pretend to be like everyone else. I don’t fit anywhere though. I don’t fit in Slytherin. Ravenclaws hate me. I hate Gryffindors. And I’m not a Hufflepuff. So.. What am I? The question echoes in my mind, and rips at my soul, but there’s no answer. Just silence.
Happiness. What a silly notion. Maybe it’s all just a lie, maybe it doesn’t exist.
So what to do now? I guess finish out the last two school years. Go to class. That’s all that can be done. Maybe I should just.. keep myself as the empty vase that I am. Void of it all so I can survive. If it’s not my father torturing me, it’s the school children. I hear the names they call me. They judge me, and say I murdered my mother, and say that I’m just the bitch of Hogwarts. Evil. No heart. Yet.. it’s broken. Every single time my heart is shattered…. by all of them. If it’s not my father, it’s society. I’m so over this. I guess that’s it. My little emotional story, for now. I guess it’s time for me to go, try to find out what’s in stores for me this year in Hogwarts. A new year, a new adventure? I guess. Until then. Managed mischief , I suppose. Or Mischief Managed.”
Zara closed her journal and dropped it into her bag, whipping away her tears and getting to her feet. She placed the quill on her ear and stood there in the room by herself. Still conflicted.
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