"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another." ~James Matthew Barrie
I'm not sure what will go in this thing other than my thoughts and my musings. Possibly nothing but boring tidbits. Most probably won't even be public. But the fact that they're there, that I'm able to go over them, may be of some comfort. I've never had one of these before, but they say if you write things down, they're less likely to fester... or something akin to that. Maybe. So, here's hoping.
I'm not sure why Dumbledore sent us back here. Whether it was a last ditch effort to save us or whether he genuinely thought out this off the wall plan that consists of us saving the world from The Dark Lord. Knowing Dumbledore, it could be a bit of both. Sometimes I wondered if the man thought through what he usually said or just let whatever was on the top of his head come out and see where it led us.
I'm stuck in the past... in 1975. My mother... she's alive and well and probably beautiful, but I can't know her. I can't get to know her. Draco doesn't think that's a good idea and he's probably correct. But the fact that I can't speak to her on a deper level than a passing greeting in the hallway... well, it hurts a little to be honest. I have this second chance to know her all over again and it's just beyond my reach. I suppose that's life. If Dumbledore did send us back here for a specific reason, then getting to know my parents when they were my age is less important.
I wonder how things are back home. I wonder if he's won and all is lost in our time. If my father is suffering or if he's already joined my mother. Is it sad that I'm hoping for the latter? Or did we win in the last seconds before Dumbledore sent us back here? Did we win and someone is trying to figure out a way to find us and bring us back? It's a foolish thing to hope for, but its there, nonetheless. I suppose it'll always be there.