Yours in Mayhem |Dramione

28 nineteen years post hogwarts: entry unknown

Dear diary,

I might be in love with one of my schoolmates. He's in Slytherin and he's a seeker but I'm a Gryffindor and I really want us to win the House Cup this year but I can't help but cheer him on because he is extremely talented. I've never seen anyone fly the way he does. It's absolutely brilliant! You should have seen the way he does a backflip in the air-- it's like he has wings!

The balding blonde man with the pointy face shook his head at the diary with an amused smile. How very much cliched. Does it always have to be a tenacious, head strong Gryffindor and a cool, brilliant Slytherin? Well, he is cool and brilliant in his time-- that much he could remember.

A little girl with puffed cheeks and shocking red hair was running around the platform, looking under skirts and luggages for something. A funny, curious little thing. Is this how all lovesick twelve year old girls behave? She had inherited her hair from her father but the rest of her features came from her mother. The same intelligent eyes, stubborn nose and defiant chin. She was already wearing her school robes and yellow socks that reached her knees and ran past him.

"Stop."

The blonde man tapped his platinum snake cane once and it was as if all business in Platform 9 and 3/4 stopped. The girl skidded to a halt and prepared herself for the worst. A school governor just caught her running around without her guardian. House points will de deducted. She'll be expelled. She'd be the shame of the family.

"Miss Rose Weasley," he hid the diary behind him as to not embarrass the girl, "the Headmistress has told me a lot about you."

"Bloody hell."

It was a whisper and the girl's amber haze was on her black leather shoes. The shine winked back at her. Language-- inherited from her father.

"What was that?" The blonde man asked.

"All good things, I hope," the girl tried to charm him. Quick wit-- inherited from her mother.

The balding man almost laughed at the girl's cheekiness. "Indeed. All good things and even better things in the future, I hope," he smiled before handing the girl her the diary. It was received with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, almost as red as her hair but with no doubt, joy and relief that it had been the balding blonde man with the pointy face that found the diary and not the young and handsome Slytherin Seeker.

It didn't matter then that he had been a Slytherin Seeker too in his time. But no Gryffindors (that he had a crush on) wrote things about his brilliance. It was a tragedy in it's own right.

Not that the man knows nothing of tragedy.

A widower at the age of twenty five. He had lost both his wife and his son at their attempt to make a family of their own. It should depress him really and turn him back to drink forevermore and he did for a while but he managed to quit (thanks to the hounding of a certain bushy haired, perpetually 'employee of the month' Ministry of Magic employee). He lost a trustworthy companion and partner. There will be no one like his Astoria. It will be a quest on it's own to find another one suitable enough to give his name(but who is he kidding, he already has his eyes on someone). At thirty seven, the blonde man with the snake cane is wealthier than ever and more pursued by beautiful women from all over the world. His prediction had come true-- lingerie had been and will continue to be thrown his way on the daily. A wife could wait(or not-- he's just dragging his feet at this point).

The girl with the red hair smiled at him in connivance. The same big front teeth, it made the blonde man sigh at the picture of memory.

"Rosie! Where have you been?"