August 2, 1986:
I need to find a way to stay out of James and Lily's sight. Though I doubt they'll see me again, as they probably only saw me that day because Charles wasn't with them and they were stressed. Even if they probably won't see me, I still need to be careful.
You know, I've been thinking. Why...why was it okay for Charles to hit that woman yesterday? Why didn't I feel any sort of...I think they called it anger? Guilt? I don't really remember. But why didn't I feel that way?
Have I been...no. Actually, let's finish this later. Yeah, I'll finish this some other day.
Harry kept on thinking about the old woman. About how Charles brutally hit her.
At first, only a few days passed without him being able to write. Then a few weeks passed. Soon enough a month had flown by and Harry still hadn't written a complete entry.
He did try to though. Oh, he tried. He tried to write every single day. Inky words were written on several pages. But right as he was about to talk about that shitty day, and how Charles deserved the great things given to him, every bad thing that Charles did appear in his head.
The fact that Charles hit the woman wasn't exactly what haunted him. No, it was just a Catalyst. It wasn't the match. It was just oil added to a once small fire. Charles had done much worse things, too much more innocent people.
It was just that this time, Harry's mindset was...different. More mature.
Darker.
It was more questioning, more suspicious. It makes sense that his way of thinking would change after such a traumatic event. But oh how it changed.
September 3, 1986:
It's been a month since I last wrote in this journal. My brain has been questioning itself. It's been questioning everything it's ever known. My brother has been rude. I realize that now. He's been... a brat. My mother...my father...they don't recognize me. Even if Charles is the boy who lived. I've been thinking, maybe...maybe he did the wrong thing.
Hah, I can't believe I wrote that. Anyways... the boy who lived. It's kind of a weird title, don't you think? N-not that I'm saying it's stupid. No, it's a great title.
But, what exactly...? No offense, but how exactly did a baby resist the killing curse and kill a full-grown adult?
Not that I am saying that he didn't do it. It's more like it's more amazing that he did. I'm just wondering how you know.
Hah, I'm so lame for writing this. I can imagine people making fun of me for writing in a diary. Even if this is more of a journal. *sigh* whatever. No one even pays attention to me long enough to make fun of me.
Actually...they did. But, it's only happened once. Once... Well anyways. It's fine. Yeah. I worry too much. Yeah, that's why no one loves me. I'm a little cry baby, who doesn't understand human emotions and is incredibly stupid. Yeah, that's it. I just don't deserve love.
I don't deserve love.