Phases (editing)

nineteen

AN- Chapter songs: Ribs by Lorde and Dreamin' Skinny Dyck

21st October 1995

First Quarter

I woke up with the intention of a hobby that was once lost. Being so preoccupied with Draco, I started to lose myself and what I enjoyed in my spare time. I hadn't picked up a non-school specific novel in months, and I hadn't touched my journal since I'd arrived at Hogwarts for this term. So, I found myself digging through my trunk for the brown leather notebook, the journal that possessed many of my vents and brain-mush of thought. Pages and Pages of streams of consciousness that would be rather embarrassing for eyes that weren't my own.

I am so fucking frustrated, all the time. My brain feels a melted puddle of wasted energy with no way to bring it back. I am so far lost in everything that I am forgetting who I am. I am not the girl to hurt another. I am not the girl to lead a boy on. And I am not the girl to two time.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

Draco's inconsistency makes me ponder whether our relationship is worth it to me. And don't get me started on his violent streak. Seeing Grant Page laying on the cold floor with blood splattered and shallow breaths was a fearful sight. That moment yesterday was the only time I hadn't seen Grant's smile. I never thought I would say it but I missed his smile at that moment, and I beat myself up for not cherishing the ones he'd given me before. Yes, he smiled a lot. Yes, I found it annoying at times. And yes, his smile was charming at moments.

I didn't think that smile could be taken from him, and it was, by me and Draco. Grant's smile had been sucked from him in that Potions lab and I never want to be looked at that way again. The disgust and betrayal, made my stomach fold over.

There was a pile of mangled black hair on the floor next to my bed this morning, and I was reminded of it when I got back to the dorms that evening. Tears in my eyes, and the air that was meant to keep me alive choked me. Without even realizing it, I was clawing at my own scalp till blood filled my nailbeds.

Hermione had come back to the dorm to see me a seized up ball with locked bones, hyperventilating on my covers. A full-blown panic attack.

Then, I furthered the panic attack because I couldn't tell one of my best friends the root of it all. It's like I'm Excalibur, stuck in stone, waiting for someone to come by with the answer to my purpose. Do I even have a purpose? Because at this time, I feel as though my purpose is to royally fuck up and make bad decisions at every turn.

I already don't know what to do with myself, what am I to do with Draco? I love him, but is that enough?

Aspen

I thought it best to avoid Draco the next few days. My part in our potions assignment was complete. I did all the research and writing, and Draco is competent enough to brew and dissect the potion. Using the separated time to rediscover my own personal hobbies seemed a better fit, since I hadn't participated in them since the start of term. Journaling has been revived. Why not revive my love for reading?

"Hermione," I announced, after turning my head, from my small desk where I sat at.

"Mhm," she replied, then stuck her head out from the absurdly large book she read.

"Any recommendations?" I asked, while tapping my quill on the shelf above the mahogany desk.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up her forehead to reveal her sparkling eyes. She truly had a knack for this. "Fiction or non-fiction, because I just read this lovely text on the magical minerals that make up Black Lake -"