Finally comes the third part of this fan fiction that, initially, was posted all at once. But because something was coming too long it can be read on a blog, I decided to break it.
As always, the warning to the ignorant, this is fan fiction themed HOMOSEXUAL. If you do not like, they give up. Thanks!
I hope you like it, enjoy!
Hello. My name is Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor and are full of fears.
Hogwarts, the third year, May 4, 19XX.
Hours: 9:13 am
Dear Diary ...
finally this Sunday I can find a little time to write, what with one thing and another (ie the study for the exams are approaching.) The threat of woe and of Sirius Black, fortunately, seem to be completely gone, although I suspect that some foul deed has been hidden (and that Harry was involved, as usual). But believe me when I say that I have not even had time to think? The study is sucking my soul. Because of this, Hermione Granger has become my nightmare. At first I was glad to talk to me just to get them to study or explain arguments (we never talked a lot about the two of us, and further consolidation of knowledge to make it become a friendship I would have liked). But that was before. Now I would just like to be able to get away from the gaze that nails at the table not only me, but Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean. We have been fooled all five, miseriaccia. We are not even up to go to the bathroom and I swear the other day me I made him only if I failed to make them worthwhile. Eh eh , fortunate that the face of a poor man comes naturally to me, at least something I could use it. Even if you read my words may sound, I'm getting a tranquilizer like all other years, the approach of exams troubles me, makes me even more nervous and awkward. Not only do I fall all the time, but my hands sweat so disgusting and in this period is more stuff to do when fire than that I can enchant properly. Merlin, if I saw my grandmother would eat the liver of shame (that there is no luck, then!). However, I do not care about my physical state, because as I said, happens to me every year. I would rather worried if I was quiet! Too much courage it all together can be fatal to the weak (not in heart, but in general) like me. The exam that worries me the most is obviously to potions, which I inevitably brings to mind the lesson that Lupin has made us on mushy. Merlin was one of the most humiliating of my entire life (and there like, eh!) And if I had not already had an impressive collection of figures of shit I'd probably already committed suicide. Or maybe I would not have had the balls to do that either. I told my grandmother what happened so I was going to kill you directly, saving the thankless task. Oh enough, let alone these depressing tone that just does not suit me. Of all the phobias that I just I never expected that the majority could take shape in Snape (the name only to write me a chill goes up my back!). Yes, I was surprised myself, I mean really. I can not see the professor as a person like the others ... he has the face of evil. Dresses as a villain. Speaks evil. Behaves like a villain. You wicked! With the mellifluous voice which seems to be continually whispering curses instead of a silly recipe for potions! Merlin nerves! But speaking as a human being, no, eh? The yellow face, his hair greasy and blacks, the black cloak that sadistic grins and pulls out promptly to any failure of Gryffindor. Everything about him screams evil! I wonder if Dumbledore had hit his head somewhere, before hiring. Professor Lupin seems to be the only one who can stand up to him and in fact is a person who I admire very much and I want to be like him one day. How to ... him. I was going to write like my father, but I can not. Sometimes they are so absorbed by ... forget everything. I should not forget, it would be unfair and disrespectful and ... and ... and I do not know what the hell would be. Maybe I have to say do not forget why I'm ashamed to admit that I would forget, actually. For one day, I experience the feeling of what it means to be a thirteen year old like everyone else, with a father, a mother ... I'm just a fool. Instead of thanking the fact that I, in one way or another, parents still have them ... Merlin, I think then at that poor Harry. He 'has every right to complain, not me. But it is just always think of others? I'm moving into talk that I do not like. What I was saying before that? Ah, yes. The lesson on mushy ... after throwing that riddikulus (or whatever the heck you are writing!) ... I do not know why but my eyes immediately flew towards the Slytherin. In fact, I know why: I wanted to show openly that I am able to do spells without the mess if I commit. What, diary, was disconcerting. Not that Malfoy looked at me with contempt, almost in disgust. Not Tiger or Goyle (you must know that their names should be written necessarily in harmony) that tried to imitate the expression of Malfoy without much success. And even the Parkinson intent to hold the laughter. It was him what upset me. Zabini. You will not believe this but ... I just laid eyes on him, he looked at me and grinned ...? Apart from that I've never seen grinning, just say I've never seen him do anything that was not watching me with no patience, but ... it was not a bad smile, this is almost certain. He seemed amused ... . Merlin, I'm afraid even to write this word, it was a shocking contrast with the person I'm talking about. He looked at me and smiled (no, no, he bowed slightly in his lips a hint, here, do not overdo it) so genuinely amused. It was not mocking hilarity. Simply, enjoy o. If I repeat this word again to allow him to hit me, diary. You you're wondering: just a smile is an event so important to you?! Well, yes. Yes, because since that day I never looked bad. When we pass by mistake in the corridors, or lesson, just looks at me and nothing else. How do I ... a any . It is a relief not having to feel the weight of those eyes that seemed to want to blame my being, my existence ... but I can not tell, it seems that now I miss something . I mean, every time I could see her figure, knew what would happen: he would have noticed (due to force majeure type Malfoy does not want to leave me alone) and I would throw that opinion of his eyes without saying anything. It had become a sort of routine, security ... in my life. A constant. Now that is gone ... I feel out of place in his presence, I can not predict. It seems that he does not even interest, since I do not compute anymore. I am a poor, diary. And also a masochist, apparently.
