Confessions of an Emotional Hufflepuff

Dear Diary,

I reckon I am getting better at this whole journal thing. Evelyn says this new diary routine of mine is stupid and that I am selling out, becoming one of those girls who writes in their secret diaries about boys they love and shallow things like that. I've told her time and time again that I am not selling out and I am still the Alcina she knows and loves. I suppose I am writing about "boys I love", but really, only one, so I don't think that counts.

Anyhow, Halloween is fast approaching and I still don't have a date. But what do I care. Neither does Evelyn.

Oh wait, I forgot. She just got one this morning. A Slytherin, no less. She said she doesn't give a rat's arse what house he's in, as long as he's not some nancy boy. He's a fifth year, I think. I don't really remember. Oh, sod it; I'm probably the only girl without a date!

It's not like I'm ugly. In fact, in the right light with a bit of make-up and a new hairstyle, I could be positively dishy...Oh God, I am selling out. I'm just like those Gryffindor tarts. I think their names are Lavender and P-something. I better make sure Evelyn never ever reads this. I don't think I'd be able to live it down.

Ah, well, I might as well accept it. No Hufflepuff boy would ask me out, anyway. I think I intimidate them. It is sort of amusing. And then, sort of not. I can't go through life frightening every potential date. I had one once. Graham, I think his name was. I reckon I should remember, but I have tried to block it from my memory.

Fourth year, it was, and Graham and I were partners in Professor Flitwick's class. I really do detest that class. Graham, on the other hand, was very enthusiastic about the whole thing. A little too enthusiastic, now that I think about it. But that's not the point. The point is that he asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him. I really love the little town and I said yes, (what's one more person to walk around the place with?), not really knowing what "go with him" really meant. But I sure did after class when I told a couple of Hufflepuff girls. The squealed and jumped about, making me just want to vomit. Even Evelyn was excited, though, luckily, she was not being a total prat about it. I became really nervous about the whole thing. It was Valentine's Day after all. Everyone kept calling it a date and that was the last thing I wanted it to be. Well, maybe not the last, but I hardly knew him and it would be very awkward. I think he became a bit uneasy about the Hogsmeade trip, as well, although he hid it a lot better than I.

Well, what do you know, the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, I felt positively awful. My head pounded and I was very queasy. Off color as I was, I still had to go with Graham. How embarrassing would it have been if I had stood him up because I felt sick? That's about the oldest excuse in the book. What book? Hmm....Never really understood that saying but anyway, it fit, so sue me.

I couldn't stand him up so, despite my horrible condition, I met him outside in one of the courtyards. He smiled and I smiled back. Though, I didn't part my lips for fear of puking all over his nice sweater. It was a very nice sweater. (Why did I write that? I think I'm losing my mind! Or else I sound strangely like one of those house-elves...)

Anyway, back to the story. We walked a bit. Our sentences were sparse and very short. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey."

"Hello."

"All right?"

"Yea...You?"

"I'm good."

"Where should we go?"

"I don't know."

"Me, neither."

I think you get the idea. Anyway, this went on for most of the walk. A chuckle or two could be heard, but those only lasted for a couple seconds and then we returned to clumsy small talk. Finally, after what seemed like hours, we got to the quaint village. I've always loved the unique shops and the shoppers. People-watching is one of my favorite pastimes. You can find out a lot about a person by the way they walk, interact with other people, and, although this might sound superficial, where they shop. Anyway, I didn't have much time to people-watch, for Graham wanted to take me to a little café. Madam Puddifoot's, I believe it was called. I gave in and entered the crowded shop. Graham had tried to hold my hand, but I pretended to have an itch on my other arm and moved it away. I was very impressed with myself. Quick thinking...I might as well have been put in Ravenclaw.

My maneuver ended Graham's little lovey-dovey escapade and we were seated in silence. I knew I wouldn't like the place once I stepped in. It was very small and decorated with frilly things. Definitely not my cup of tea. Cup of tea...get it? It was a coffee shop? Oh, never mind.

Anyways, I was glancing around the café. There were a lot of Hogwarts couples in there. Some I had seen before, and others I just couldn't place. Then, I spotted him. His jet black, rumpled hair. His striking green eyes hiding behind those glasses. My eyes traveled from him over to the girl sitting next to him. Cho Chang. Thatavenclaw girl that he has fancied ever since I can remember. I don't know what he sees in her. They are always having a row. This time was no exception. I think Graham was talking to me, or at least trying, but I was paying more attention to Cho's date. They started shouting. Something about other girls and Cho's old boyfriends. She stomped off and he quickly paid the bill and ran out of there. I watched him go and then, sadly, turned back to Graham, my forgotten date. He, obviously, had realized that I hadn't been listening to him. I smiled an apologetic smile and went back to sipping my coffee, although I'm not partial to the stuff. I don't even know why I ordered it. Graham followed my suit and we both sat in silence. Well, I suppose I can't really call it silence. He seems to sip very, very loudly. Those are the kind of things that irk me. The little things. Evelyn says I'm too picky. Nothing is good enough for me. I don't think that is necessarily true. Maybe it is, I don't know. Maybe that's why I scare away any person of the opposite sex that comes even remotely close to me.

All right, well, to make a long story short, Graham was very insulted that I did not pay him any attention. As soon as we left Madam Puddifoot's, he led me into a thick crowd of people and, surprisingly, we lost each other in the throng. I won't deny that he probably did this on purpose and, frankly, I don't blame him. I was actually a bit relieved. This relief was replaced with resentment when I spotted him and a Gryffindor snogging on a bench along the streets of Hogsmeade. Let's just say I haven't been on a date with anyone since that dreadful day. He told all of his mates that I was a terrible date and my social life was officially ruined. Not that it was much of a social life to begin with.

Yep, that's right, I'm the unnoticed, unwanted, unattractive, boring Hufflepuff that will never ever have a date to anything. I don't think I'll even have a date to my own wedding. But, then, that doesn't make much sense because to have a wedding, you need a bride and a groom. Hopefully, I'd be the bride, but if there were no groom, there wouldn't be a wedding. Unless he stood me up at the altar, which would be utterly disastrous. But, still, technically I would have had a date to the wedding, just not at the wedding, which is entirely different.

My head hurts from thinking so much. What was it that I was talking about, or rather writing about, before I launched into my first date story? Hold on, let me check.

Oh yes, so anyway, I still don't have a date to the Hogwarts costume ball on Halloween. I know what boy I want to ask, but he is way out of my league. He'd probably laugh if I ever had enough courage to even talk to him, let alone ask him to the dance. He and his Gryffindor mates would think I'm off my trolley. And I very well may be. Maybe that's it. I scare all the boys away because I really belong in St. Mungo's. That's a scary thought. And, in some ways, it is quite comforting. At least, then, it has nothing to do with my incapability to talk to a boy.

Enough thinking. I'm late for lunch and I am starving after barely eating breakfast. I'm not much of a morning person and, coupled with the fact that I was staring at a certain Gryffindor eating his porridge from across the Great Hall, no real food actually made it to my mouth.

Ta ta for now!

Alcina

Dear Diary,

BLOODY HELL! You will never guess what's just happened to me. Yes, something good has actually happened to me! It feels like a dream. I've been pinching myself all the way down the corridors and into the Hufflepuff Common Room and into the Girls' Dormitory and onto my bed. The whole blooming way! Well, not the WHOLE way, because constant pinching can't be good for anyone, can it?

God, enough with my blabbering. I have to write this down or else I'll never believe it ever happened! Okay, here it goes.

I was sitting in the courtyard, people-watching, of course. I spotted a couple of Ravenclaws doing some course work (smart people, what else do they do?). There were a couple snogging under a tree until Professor McGonagall, on her usual stroll, caught them and gave them detentions. Then, someone said my name. Before I turned my head, I could tell that they were right next to me, but standing up. As my gaze traveled over the distant groups of students, my eyes were met with a pair of shoes. They were a bit scuffed but, overall, were in good shape. I suppose, now, I'm also a shoe-watcher. That's something, isn't it? Oops, back to my story.

Yes, so as my eyes journeyed up past the shoes, past his gray pants, his untucked shirt, his loosened tie, and stopping at his smile, (it was a beautiful smile), I was in disbelief. This couldn't be who I thought it was. No way, no how! But, as usual, I was wrong. Yes, it's true. Harry Potter came and talked to me! I had to catch myself, as I could feel potential drool coming on. I closed my gaping mouth quickly and looked straight into his emerald green eyes. They are so striking. I could get lost in them forever.

Anyways, I smiled back at him and he began to speak to me. Me! Wait, what am I saying? Er, let me rephrase that. It was nothing. Seriously! This normal teenage boy came up to me and started to talk. Not that I cared. Nothing special. (I know, you see right through this, don't you?)

"Are you Alcina...Blumme, I think?" Those were the words he spoke. My name! Mine! No one else's. Just mine! Wow, I sound obsessive.

"Yea, that's me." It really is a wonder how I can speak to my idol so nonchalantly. Rude, almost. But that is my alleged reputation, I suppose, so I reckon I should keep it up.

"Er," He sounds so cute when he stutters, "Ginny, I think she's in your Potions class, well, she had to attend a meeting with Professor McGonagall about possible careers and she asked me to give you this. I suppose you lent it to her during class, so, here you are." And he handed me my Potions notebook. I took it and muttered a "thanks". It was all I could do to keep from embracing him and screaming 'I LOVE YOU' for the whole world to hear. He nodded and walked away, back to his Gryffindor pals. I just held the book in my hands, staring at it lovingly. He had held it. It had probably been in his backpack. Could my life get any better? Well, Mrs. Alcina Potter does have a nice ring to it, don't you think? But I can work on that later. I think I'll stop writing and return to replaying that wonderful moment over and over in my mind. Eventually, the scene changes from him handing me my book, to he and I kissing passionately and then being given detention by McGonagall. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?

Alcina