I'd been feeling it's pull more potently than usual this past month, perhaps because of the stress of new surroundings.. and of course lying to my new friends for the first time never helps. They enjoy my company. It's really quite a miraculous thing. Of course, no one knows here, except Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse. I hope my friends never find out, they would drop me like....well, maybe like a hot potato.
But, truly, spending time with the other students is a joy. I had never been around boys of my own age in my childhood, thanks to my parents- and I can't say I really blame them. I'm unpredictable, I know that.
I'm eleven years old, but I do realize I act quite a bit older than my age warrants- perhaps it's the wolf, perhaps it's the books, or perhaps some bizarre combination of the two. This is the first time I have lived in close contact with so many people, and it constantly makes me uneasy. I can't exactly put my finger on why, because Dumbledore has set up an extremely secure place for my transformations to take place- but I think it has something to do with my constant struggle to keep the wolf in its place.
I will never know what having a 'normal mind' feels like, because since I was six, it's as if I have a split personality- a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, if you will.
It's not so bad, really, to keep the wolf in check during most of the month- but as the moon waxes, the wolfish impulses grow much stronger, and it takes more of an effort to keep them in place. It's like keeping a beast on a leash. I am a beast.
It's funny, but I truly haven't given my condition much thought lately; it must be all the extra people suddenly surrounding me, that I have to be sure my actions are exactly as they should be, without thinking of the cause. Even without my 'problem' I think I would still be nervous around so many people. It's just, everybody's thoughts and motions seem to go much faster when crammed into crowded spaces, I can barely keep up! I suppose I'd gotten quite lax about it at home; my parents were the only other people about me.
But now that I have FRIENDS- how good it is to taste that word!-it means the world to me to keep them. So really, no harm done at all, so long as I watch myself closely- self-control, and all. Really, self-control- not such a bad thing to possess.
I am trying hard to match the boisterousness of my new friends, although I am sure I am failing miserably! They do, however, more than tolerate my presence- Sirius seems to find my dry humor in excellent form, I can't imagine why.
A dormitory room of young boys is a wonderful thing. (I am such an old man!) I love the continual scuffles, the absolutely lewd humor, the way James sneaks 'Busty and Bewitched' magazines under his pillow and later ogles breasts when he thinks no one is looking. It is a welcomingly lively change from the dusty living of old novels and Brahms records. (Although I would never willingly give either up, because Brahms 4th Symphony is marvelous beyond belief, and I will never end my love affair with Jane Austen- is that absolutely fruity or what?)
There is one boy that has begun to have been singled out as the brunt of our newly heroic escapades (as opposed to the entire Slytherin house, which James and Sirius hold a strong vehemence for). His name is Severus, and truly, though I generally deplore hateful behavior, this bloke deserves it. To a degree.
Nothing has really happened yet, besides the constant trading of insults, but I know that great pranks are in store for this poor greasy-haired chap.
There is something mulling beneath the surface, I think, that motivates this animosity between Severus, Sirius and James. I feel a bit as if Peter and I are just along for the ride- in short, 'nothing personal' for us, other than a bit of House rivalry. Although he is a horribly smarmy git with a penchant for snide remarks and insults. I suppose every boy has to have his arch-nemesis though, eh?
It's very funny, actually, in a rather sad way- in the less than two weeks we've been here, I can see already the way Peter looks up to James. Except, it's already turning to a rather alarming form of adoration. It, of course, strokes James's ego, which he doesn't mind at all.
I cannot be sure, because Sirius has (so far) yet to speak of his family, and I don't believe he would respond well to prodding- but I think Sirius has such issue with Severus because he reminds him a little too closely of home. Just a theory, mind, I've not much to go on other than his rather odd behavior in the first two or three days of school. He was actually the first of us four I chuffed up the courage to talk to, because he seemed so- well, a bit miserable. He brightened up considerably when I approached him though; I really think he just needed someone to talk to to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Anyhow, I think James has now completely expelled whatever it was, because Sirius now acts like an approachable human being, rather than...not.
I truly like Sirius. The others of course, too, but as now I seem to know Sirius a little better than the others, and he endures my bookish prattle, we are getting along smashingly.
Dumbledore arranged for my transformations to take place in a completely beaten down and unwelcoming shack in Hogsmeade. I reach it by a tunnel, the entrance of which is blocked by a newly planted, rather violent willow. (Truly, violent; you have to prod a knot on it's trunk with a long stick to make it freeze- otherwise it'll bloody your mug and quite possibly break your ribs with one of its' branches.) I emerged from last night with only a few splinters in some..rather unforgiving places. Although they were maybe as big as my palm, of course. Ah well, there's always something. I have scars roping all over my body, not to mention that awful one I've got on my cheek, what's a few splinters?
I've been lying in the hospital wing writing this; recuperating, if you will. Madam Pomfrey saw to it that breakfast was brought to me- along with some chocolate I requested. I don't think she can turn me down, she feels so bad for this peakish ickle firstie..I shall have to play her for more chocolate in the future, it truly is first rate. I adore chocolate with the passion of a lover.
Enough now, my hands are cramping.
Write a Review Maraudic Revelations: September 12, 1973
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