Problem
I Need Your Opinion
First Entry.
July 24th 1996
Dear Marie
Summer’s just started, and Auntie Rosie and Uncle Ben are already talking about my future. “What do you want to work with?” “Why don’t you apply for a job at the Ministry?” “What are you going to do with your life?” Blah, blah, blah! I’m so sick of it! It’s like, back off guys, it’s my choice, don’t put so much pressure on me! I mean, I know it’s important to get a job and make some money so you can buy a house and start a family and all of that, but I’m only seventeen years old! All right, I’ll be eighteen in a month, but what’s the difference really? Even if I am of age I’m still a child, I shouldn’t have to make decisions like these! I honestly haven’t got a clue what I want to work with. Uncle Ben wanted me to become and auror, but I didn’t get enough NEWTs. Auntie Rosie always wanted me to begin a career as a healer, but even if I had gotten good enough grades I don’t have the nerves for a job like that. Blood and open wounds and stuff like that make me feel sick. I couldn’t even go near the hospital wing at Hogwarts without feeling faint.
I’m an awful teacher, so a career at Hogwarts wouldn’t be an option, unless I wanted to help Filch with the cleaning, which I don’t. I’m not one for adventures and travelling, so I couldn’t become an explorer. I hate cooking and standing in an empty wizarding equipment’s shop or a stinking apothecary all day could be the most boring thing ever. It would be really cool to work in a joke shop though, but neither Uncle Ben nor Auntie Rosie would approve of that. I already know exactly how they would react if I told them. “What a waste of time!” “But you’re such a clever girl!” “You? Work in a joke shop? HA! You wouldn’t even recognize a joke if it was jumping up and down in front of you wearing a bright pink wig!”
That last comment would be from my cousin, Kevin. All of its rubbish of course. I’m really not that clever, and I do too recognize jokes! I just don’t find them funny when I’m trying to concentrate on homework, or if I’m really stressed or really tired or really busy or if I just don’t want a lot of noise around me!
Oh, Marie, being an adult is much more difficult than I thought it would be! I never thought about the transition from school to work, and now that I’m in the middle of it I just want to be a little girl again!
We’re going to Diagon Alley this weekend; maybe I’ll be able to find some small boring job behind the counter of one of the shops. It’s not really the ideal work, but I’ll just have to think about it as a way to make some money while I look for something I really want to do. At least it’ll get Auntie Rosie and Uncle Ben off my back.
Hoping you are well.
Yours truly,
Alex.
~~~
SPOILER WARNING! FORTSÄTT INTE LÄSA IFALL NI INTE LÄST SLUTET AV SJÄTTE HARRY POTTER BOKEN/SETT SJÄTTE HARRY POTTER FILMEN! Om ni inte har något intresse för Harry Potter och bestämt er för att aldrig läsa/se Harry Potter kan ni lugnt läsa vidare utan att vara rädda för att någonting ska förstöras för er.
~~~
Entry Two
July 1st 1997 6.37 am
Dear Marie
My eyes are full of tears and my hands are shaking so bad I can hardly write. But I have to write, because I don’t know what else to do.
Professor Dumbledore is dead. I don’t want to believe it, but it’s all over the Daily Prophet. The Dark Mark. The Death Eaters breaking into Hogwarts. Oh, Marie, it all sounds so awful! I wish Auntie Rosie would turn off the radio so I won’t have to hear about it over and over again! The break-in. The battle. The deaths. Dumbledore’s death.
I don’t know how much of what they are saying on the radio that’s true, and what is just rumors, but right now they’re telling us that three people died and that two are in a dangerous condition. In the Daily Prophet it doesn’t say how many lost their lives, they only tell us about Dumbledore. I guess they don’t really know for sure either. I mean, who does? Except those at Hogwarts who were actually in the battle fighting, of course. They would know, wouldn’t they?
I don’t know what to write Marie, just that I have to keep writing until the clock turns seven and I can apparate to work where I will have to stand behind the counter and assist Ms. Gibbons while she gossips away about the “exciting news” with all of her customers. I know it will be hard not to cry, because I can’t even keep the tears away from falling while I’m writing. My body aches with that terrible feeling of emptiness. It’s killing me Marie. Oh please tell me what to do!
This is the end. Or the beginning of the end at least. Dumbledore’s gone. Our great defender, the only one You-Know-Who ever feared, is gone. Our only hope, the only light on this dark, dark sky, has gone out, and we are blinded by the sudden black that surrounds us. Where do we go from here? What do we do?
The war is coming. You-Know-Who is stronger than ever and there’s no one to stop him. The war is coming, it’s nearly here. So what do we do? Do we hide? Do we fight? Do we run for our lives?
July 1st 1997 5.48 pm
I overheard Ms. Gibbons talking to a friend and it seems that I’m not the only one suspecting a war. People are terrified, even more so than before. But the darkness is not almighty. A new star has been born, a new leader to follow, a new reason to fight for. Rumor has it that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, can defeat You-Know-Who. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s something to hold on to. It’s not over Marie, we still have hope. We’re not giving up. We’re going to fight. Until the very end.
Yours truly,
Alex.
~~~
Så. What d'ya think?