The Diary Sneak Peak Snippets
I'm bored and working on The Diary. How about some snippets of unposted scenes out of context for funsies?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Her hair is overwhelming in its natural state,” Tom said carefully. “Perhaps something to help her style it more easily would be wise.”
Abraxas blinked away his surprise and tried not to make eye contact with Flynn. The mere idea of Tom going out of his way to help any girl with her hair because he wanted to, not simply being polite if someone dared to ask, was beyond him. But thankfully, Abraxas’ mother had insisted he know enough about women’s grooming to aid his future wife if necessary. He could be of use.
“I could write Mother,” he offered. “With a description of her hair and its texture, I’m sure she could find some sort of conditioning oil or cream to go along with whatever ribbons or trinkets we can find to help pretty her up.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
But as she flipped the journal to the front, she saw that the first several pages, all of which were as blank as the rest of the book the day before, were now filled with Tom’s familiar handwriting. One or two spots of the first page even looked like raindrops or tears had fallen on the paper.
Raindrops, surely. She couldn’t envision Tom crying. Puzzled, but always curious, she began to read:
Dear Dove,
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He wasn’t sure how much good the hugs would do for her in the remaining weeks of his fifth year, since she’d go a full six months without a hug at all unless he made a point to continue the habit as an adult.
Did his older self have a different friendship with her entirely?
If he could just find a way to keep an eye on her somehow, maybe he’d be able to know what sorts of things he needed to be prepared for in the future.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As most of his studies were caught up, he chose to make notes in his various journals and diaries, including the one he reserved for dates and times she asked him to make a special note of. Or that he thought he needed to remember.
19 September 1999 — Hermione born was added to those notes. As was 19 September 2013 — Dumb little bird turns 14.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Poor little bird,” he murmured. Is the little Gryffindor scared to be in the dark by herself?
You know, no one would ever find your body down here.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Even at the orphanage there’s a bloody hierarchy, Dove. Step on or be stepped on. Sink or swim.”
The look she gave him was full of an emotion he didn’t recognize, but that instinctively made him uncomfortable.
“How long did it take you to learn how to swim?” she asked.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That'll do, I think. I might be willing to give context to some of these if anyone's interested enough to send me an ask about them. Otherwise, I'll be drinking wine and starting chapter 36 if anyone needs me.
How about another round of these, for giggles?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sometimes you’re obnoxious too, she penned carefully. Just in different ways.
What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the memory of a Gryffindor being afraid of the dark.
Hermione glared at his dark green words until the ink faded. If I thought she’d do it, I’d tell Cherie to eat you next time she saw you.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
With a solemn nod, Hermione offered him her pinky finger. Grinning, Harry hooked his with hers.
“Together or not at all,” she said. He echoed the words back to her, then pulled her in for a hug.
“I dunno what I’d do without you, Hermione.”
Donning her best Draco impression, Hermione gave a delicate sniff. “Still be friends with Ronald, probably.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You're certain you feel alright?" he asked quietly. His cheek was resting above her ear and he disliked the feeling of lingering darkness radiating in her aura.
He felt her nod. "I'm okay."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione squinted. "Is that the nickname you two land on? Birdie?"
"Tom wouldn't let us call you Dove," Flynn explained. "Birdie was the first alternative we agreed on that you didn't hate."
"It's cute," she allowed. "And better than most of Tom's nicknames."
"Still here," Tom said dryly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“So he’s an arsehole,” Harry said through grit teeth. “He’s teaching you because he finds you clever but he doesn’t even bloody care?”
Hermione took a slow breath to ward off the beginning tickle at the corners of her eyes. If she let herself cry now, she’d never stop, never mind being able to face Tom. And she knew how much her tears annoyed him when she couldn’t hold them in or came to the room after having been upset.
“No,” she managed to say shakily. “He’s just a prefect and I’m just a third year he didn’t expect to be genuinely clever.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Then she greeted Tom. He gave her one of his subdued half-smirks as he stood to hug her, but his energy was entirely off.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "Did you lot have a bad day?"
"No, Dove," Tom said evenly. "Just O.W.L.s preparations."
She frowned at him, even as he drew her into his arms and she pressed her face into his shoulder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He needed to sleep.
But Dove was smiling and laughing with her friend, her other orphan, and somehow the sight was keeping him awake. Though it also made his thoughts spin.
Why are you different with them? he wondered, not for the first time. It was one of the many thoughts plaguing his mind during his more restless nights. Questions he knew she wouldn't answer truthfully.
He didn't like her keenness for hiding things from him. If she was going to help him take control over Britain, and maybe the world, then secrets between them should be minimal to nonexistent.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*