Emotionless

"No," she shrieked, "please don't go." She flung her arms round him.

"Get off me you stupid woman," he snapped, pushing her off him, which sent her flying into the wall.

She howled in pain. "But what about the children?"

"They're your problem now," he replied. He Apparated; that woman never saw him ever again.

***

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was pretty boring. Today is not much better; I wish the holidays would get more exciting!!! Mum says that I should be grateful that nothing exciting has happened. I guess I should be grateful seeing He-must-not-be-named is still around. Oh great - I'm running out of ink! Well, I'd better get going!

Love,

Cellie

I left my Muggle diary to dry, as it would smudge if I closed it, (take it from experience). I have a quick glance at my mirror before I leave my box room: I have dirty blonde hair, pale skin which never darkens matter how little sun cream I put on. I also hate my eyes, they're this disgusting grey colour, but my Mum says that I look beautiful; I think she got that from chapter two of 'How to win your daughter's heart' handbook.

Someone rings the doorbell, I run down the winding wooden staircase but my Mum gets to it first. "Hi Ron! Hi Harry!" she greets. Ron and Harry are my Godfathers. My Mum couldn't choose which one should my Godfather so she decided to let both of them be my Godfathers. Apparently, my Dad was really annoyed at that he said that I'd be dead two weeks after they died if I was left with one of them. But I'm not going to waste my thinking about him.

My Mum looks a little upset for some reason, I wonder why?

"Hey Cellie!" says Harry, giving me a great big bear hug.

"Hey Harry," I reply.

I walk over to Ron: a tall, thin redhead and give him a hug too. "Hey Ron," I whisper to him, but it's muffled because I'm still giving him a hug.

"Where are Jack and Jake?" asks Harry. Jack and Jake are my little brothers; they're twins and they look identical. In fact the only people who can tell them apart are Mum and I. They look nothing like me; they both have a darker skin and deep brown eyes.

"They're at a friend's house," replies Mum. "Cellie, why don't you go upstairs and do your homework?"

Ron mouths, "Swot."

I did as I was told, Mum, Harry and Ron would probably be talking about the Order; they're all Aurors.

I trek back to my bedroom and the check my calendar: it is 2^nd August. That's why Mum looked so upset: exactly nine years ago Mum and Dad broke up, or should I say: my Dad left my Mum to work with his 'Master'. He tricked my Mum. She really thought he had changed. I guess it's hard for her to look at me when I look so much like him. Although, I am so glad that my Mum and I so close - she says she tells me too much about their divorce.

I walk over to my wooden desk and get out my remaining parchment, quill and ink. I guess I really should get started on that Potions essay, not that I don't really need to. I could just tell Slughorn to go to hell. He only likes people who're good at potions -I hate him! Almost as much as I hate Dad, how could he do this to us? How could he do this to Mum? How could he do this to me?

No! I've got to stop thinking about him, it's his loss not mine.

That Potions essay it starting to look real good.

I write:

Hey Dad,

What am I doing?

I'm writing to you,

Not to tell you that I still hate you.

On our last encounter (on the phone) I shouted at him, I told that he was a terrible father and that I hated him and never I wanted to see him again.

Just to ask you how you feel,

How does he feel, is he missing us or does he hate us? Why did he betray us?

And how this fell apart.

Are you happy out there in this great wide world?

Then I let out what I want most to write:

Do you think about your sons?

Do you miss your little girl?

Then I feel a surge of anger. How dare he do this to us!

When you lay your head down how do you sleep at night?

Do you even wonder we're alright?

Then I tell him how we are.

We're alright.

I begin to feel tears in my eyes.

It's been a long road without you by my side.

I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my robes.

Why weren't you there all the nights we cried?

I tell him what he did to us:

You broke my mother's heart,

You broke your children for life.

I think I'm letting him off too well.

It's not OK but we're alright,

I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes.

Does he even think about us?

But those are just a long lost memories of mine.

When I think about it, Mum was so strong when it happened - I only saw her cry once.

I spent so many years learning how to survive.

Now I am just writing to let you know I'm still alive.

He probably doesn't care.

The days I spent so cold.

So hungry.

Were full of hate.

We were almost homeless once and he didn't care then, thankfully, Ron and Harry offered their house to us.

I was so angry.

The scars run deep inside my body.

Dad had hit me once. I burst into tears but I kept it a secret. I wish I had told everybody while I had the chance.

There's things I'll take to the grave.

But I'm OK.

I'm OK.

I tell him my deepest dark secret to him.

And sometimes I forgive.

Yeah and this time I'll admit:

That I miss you.

I miss you.

Love,

Cellie

I can't believe I just wrote that! He'll never read it and even if he does he'll just laugh at how pathetic I am. I burst into tears and rip up the piece of parchment. There's only one-piece left that is currently falling gently through the air. I take hold of it, it read:

Hey Dad.