Wow, I'm still alive. Shocking, of course. Perhaps a little appalling to some. But I've not yet given up on the entire breathing thing.

[Private]

The Mark's stopped aching so much. Perhaps it was just a one off, a big panic over nothing. That's what I keep trying to convince myself and, believe it or not, it gets easier every day.

And it's now months since I last had a drink. Which is just painfully bizarre to me. Though, you know what they say: you never stop being an alcoholic. I can't deny that I'd give just about anything to have a drink. But, clearly, just about anything doesn't extend to giving up Zach. Works quite nicely for me, in the end. Which once again reminds my brain to freak out about the 'OHMYFUCKINGCHRISTYOU'REGETTINGMARRIED' thing.

All in all, despite everything, my life's pretty sweet right now. I can only hope it stays this way, that I can freeze it in this situation.

[Private]

Current Mood: thoughtful

I snatched a copy of the Subverse off a kid who was reading in class and, what d'ya know? No more Umbridge. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's really fucking pleased with this fact.

[Private]

Top off my good mood at this news with the fact I'm getting bloody married. Me. Married. How fucking bizarre is that? And to a bloody bloke. Well, life certainly is full of surprises, isn't it? My dad must be tossing and turning in his grave-- well, okay, he wasn't buried 'cause they never found an entire body but, the metaphor stands.

I can still barely believe it myself, even moreso the fact that I was the one to ask. Seems right though, what with the uncertainty of the future. If I'm ever gonna get married to anyone, I want it to be him. And considering the fact I mightn't live to be that old, now seems to be the time.

I've officially turned into a fucking girl.

[/Private]

Current Mood: pleased

No-one mention the date. I will kill you slowly and painfully.

I refuse to age beyond 21 so, if you are going to accept this as my birthday, be aware that I am 21. Again.

Current Mood: aggravated / old

[written quickly when he was supposed to be cooking]

Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhy? Why did I agree to this? Why did I suggest this?

Someone write my obituary, I think I'm going to kill myself in my kitchen.

Current Mood: cynical

[Locked to Zach]

He's dead. He's dead. We all felt him die, to an extent. So, what the fuck is this? And why now?

At least it was just a twinge this time, not a summons. Fuck, the pain this thing can give you when you don't go where you're wanted? Absolutely unbearable.

But you know what? Let them fucking call me. I'm not coming. I don't care if I have to drink myself into a bloody coma to escape the pain, I'm not going back. I'm staying out for myself, as well as for you. I've given them too many years of my life already, taken too many lives away for them. I'm not serving under anyone ever again.

And yeah, I know what I'm risking doing this. I know they'll search for me and when if they find us, they'll kill you, tear my life to pieces and then kill me, too (and I know that'll be if I'm lucky and they're feeling 'generous' that day).

But who says I'll get caught? I'm not to proud to run, to hide if I have to. I just hope you understand what situation you're putting yourself into. It's not too late for you to run as well.

[/Locked]

Life right now? It's fuckin' crazy.

Current Mood: determined

My new year's resolution is to be kind and loving to all God's beautiful creatures; to sympathise with the plight of others; to be a friend to everyone; to abstain from sinful sexual contact, especially sodomy; to be patient.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

But seriously, fuck resolutions. I'm fine as I am.

Current Mood: devious

Merry Christmas to all those I give a flying fuck about. May Santa's heaving sack leave you satisfied.

[Private]

Cannot stop smoking. I'm drinking coffee for Christ's sake; I don't drink coffee. I haven't had a headache like this since... Well, since the last time I tried to cut back all of a sudden.

I've had one drink today. One measly, pathetic little drink. One. One. I swear to fucking God, Zach had better appreciate this.

And if his parents don't like me, even when I make this much of an effort? Fuck 'em. Fuck. Them. They can just sit and whinge about me to their friends, about how their lovely Zach is dating below himself and, Christ, the man was a lush and all!

God, why is it that whenever you know you mustn't think about something, you can't keep it off your mind? All I can think about is vodka... Burning my lips, my tongue, throat, chest... Fuck, I need it. I'd give up breathing for half an hour to just taste that for a moment.

But, I won't. I've got to do this. Prove it to Zach. To myself.

[/Private]

Current Mood: groggy

[Private]

I had a dream about him last night. How he was before... everything, not how he was the last time I saw him. I barely remember anything except waking up and staggering to the loo to be sick. It's been months since I had one of those dreams, I thought I was past that now. Obviously I underestimated it.

I don't want to think of him, alive or dead. Heartless as it may sound, I want to forget he ever existed. If I could just cut away the part of my brain that holds my memories of him, I could be happy. I just don't want to think about him anymore.

Sometimes, people are enemies for the right reasons. It keeps them at arm's length, at a safe distance. Sometimes enemies should stay enemies. And, well, I've learnt my lesson now.

[/Private]

So, where are my Christmas presents, then?

Current Mood: nauseated

So, I've managed to land myself a position working part-time at Hogwarts, teaching second year Quidditch. Which means I can ditch my soul-sucking job in Muggle London. Which makes me a happy man. A very happy man indeed.

The idea of being a teacher is... Really bizarre. I'm sure I'm going to be that arsehole professor that the kids hate. Still, that could be fun, right? I don't exactly what the little buggers hanging off my ankles and calling me Uncle Marcus afterall.

Current Mood: productive

Christmas day is either going to be fantastic or really shit. I'm vouching for the latter.

So, I'm going to Zach's parents' house for lunch. Which is, of course, scary as fuck. Especially considering he's 'forbidden' me from drinking whilst I'm there. I mean, seriously, it's Christmas and I'm going to meet his parents; I defy anyone to not need a drink-- or twelve-- in that situation. So, I'm just going to have to get suitably numb before I go there and hope Zach doesn't pull a fucking wobbly at me for doing so.

Did I mention it's his parents? Of all the people I've had relationships with... Okay, that's not many but, of all the people I've slept with, I've met one of their parents. And that was only because her bloody mother walked into her bedroom without knocking and yeah, I hardly count finding me naked and fucking your daughter as a real 'meeting'.

Oh! And then apparently we're staying there. In seperate rooms of course, his parents seemingly aware that their son is a nymphomaniac.

This is entirely insane. What am I doing?

Oh, and here comes the good part. This is the part that'll soften the blow of making an idiot of myself in front of his mum and dad; we're going to a Hufflepuff reunion party. I... I start laughing just imagining it. I'm pretty sure they know what they're letting themselves in for, inviting him. But, yeah, I doubt they're expecting me to tag along. Christ, this is going to be fucking amusing. I know the majority of the Hufflepuffs were scared of me, you couldn't exactly miss it. Most of Quidditch team would be shitting themselves for days before a match against my team.

So, yes. We'll see. We'll definitely see.


Oh yeah, and I left this open to you guys because I feel like a fucking nutter talking to just myself via this thing. Especially when I ask questions.

Current Mood: nervous