Below are the 15 most recent journal entries recorded in Merope Black's InsaneJournal:

Sunday, March 9th, 2008
7:26 pm	12 September 1942 My most recent book has been both frustrating and fascinating. I would have never chosen it if Miss Pince had not denuded the shelves so strangely and thus exposed 'De triplici vita', by a wizard named Marsilio Ficino. The language is that highly personal cross between Latin and Italian I see so often in the older manuscripts, and it gives me a headache. I would have put it back immediately if I hadn't noticed the title of the third book - 'de vita coelitus comparanda'. Just about anything having to do with 'the heavens' will naturally catch my eye, and the idea of 'obtaining life from the heavens' is sufficiently intriguing to dare an aching head. Ficino is laying out what seems to be his own explorations into the practice of astrological magic - and he seems to have the same ideas I do about the utility and synthesis of the various forms! He draws heavily from Ptolemy's tables, as do we all (well, not Vablatsky, but then the only things she draws from are her fantasies). I've been attempting to read a bit every day, and I find my headaches are well worth it. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, I do have to read the book at a table in the library and make notes as I go through, and apparently this year every first-year has decided that 'quiet' has been re-defined as 'hissing whispers'. The new librarian has no presence, and can only quell the whisperers in her direct line of sight. At least my window seat is deserted tonight, and I can see some stars above the forest. It's utterly deserted near me, I can't hear anyone, and I've taken my hair down. The night, and the dark, and the quiet stars twinkling down ... far better than Silencio. I should talk to Mira more (especially since I'm sure she has one of my hats), but she's in with the Gryffindors - and we all know how horrendously awful it's been over there. I do pity the poor Hufflepuffs, just as much as I pity us for having to grimly bear up under the Ravenclaws' assault on our common room. I wish that Mira had been able to Sort Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff - I'm afraid that the Gryffindors will only encourage her sad lack of tact. Current Mood: studious (Comment on this)
Thursday, March 29th, 2007
2:26 pm	3 September 1942, during supper Charis' reply was quite cordial, and I'm glad of it. On another topic entirely, I managed to get through the second Divination class of the year without screaming, throwing my ink bottle, or cursing her with warts. I consider this an amazing accomplishment, Diary. Though I know what everyone believes about girls who make Divination their speciality, I have remained in Divination because I feel that it, Arithmancy, and Astronomy are connected: Divination, via any method, predicts the future - well, so can Astronomy and Arithmancy combined, and I believe that those who draw a distinction between arithmantic methods of divination and more traditional methods are in error. Charts are useless when you have no idea of the people or times involved, whereas scrying in a silver bowl under moonlight might well get you something to put into more parchment-and-ink calculations. (Though I must say, it will be annoying to have that method shut down to me at some point - at least arithmantic equations do not change because you're no longer a virgin.) At any rate, Vablatsky is not interested in any sort of a rational analysis or synthesis of divinatory methods - she wishes only to flutter about and make mysterious pronouncements that scare the sillier of the first-years. Of course, I do not have to enjoy her company to learn what she has to teach... but now that I have enough of my own grounding in the subject to conceive of and direct my own projects, I begin to wonder why she insists on so heavily emphasising the methods that depend entirely upon one's facility with the traditional methods. Not everyone who takes her class can have prophetic dreams - Mordred and Magdalen, who would want them? - but that does not mean that everyone who takes her class can't learn to trace or read or be shown even quite complex charts. We need a better teacher than she. And if I do tutor any Slytherins this year, I plan on giving them a sound and thorough grounding in all the astronomical and astrological principles, not just the ones that let a person impress foolish children. Current Mood: calm (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 28th, 2007
3:05 am	2 September 1942, hastily scribbled during Charms One thing I certainly have not missed about school are the longing looks and sighs thrown at Antares by certain members of the female population. What could they possibly be thinking?! Antares isn't horrible to look at, I suppose - he has all his features arranged in a vaguely human fashion, and all his limbs, and he's always got ridiculously embroidered waistcoats on - but what about him could be so magnetic that girls so diverse as Allegra Crumb and Dolores Umbridge flutter coo and sigh over his nobly brooding presence? (And naturally, just like all the major inheritances, this mysterious magnetism tends to the male side of the family.) At least the first tea of the year should be interesting. I hope my chair in the corner's not taken - I really do want to watch everyone ... mingle. Current Mood: irritated (Comment on this)
Friday, February 16th, 2007
1:47 pm	2 September 1942, just before dinner I quite think I shall like Mondays this year. After 9.3, when Magistra let us out of Runes, I realized I had a day full of glorious scheduled-nothing until Enochian and Astronomy after dinner. Normally, I would spend some time in the common room, studying or watching the world walk by - but given the recent toadstool explosion, I will have to find another place to spend time - somewhere with some solitude. I've rediscovered the library. Which sounds so silly, but I walked around it with my bookbag for a while, and I was so vexed I almost left - there seemed to be nowhere to tuck myself into and just study. But there's a little windownook that I'd never seen before, tucked away behind all the botany texts right by the windows, and I sat and took my braid down and my shoes off, and read my Runes text and just let the sunlight warm me up, and I may have even fallen asleep a bit. It was lovely, and blessedly quiet and free of people, though I did hear some murmurings from around the book-cases and a very firm 'shh!' at one point. And now I'm hungry, and it is fortunately dinner-time already. Current Mood: peaceful (Comment on this)
Friday, February 9th, 2007
9:23 pm	2 September 1942, after breakfast ( jotted quickly: ) Current Mood: blushing (1 Comment |Comment on this)
6:37 pm	2 September 1942, at breakfast The elves have remembered that I drink my tea black, and that they're to bring a full pot for me. Other than the addition of brightly chattering first-years, breakfast hasn't changed at all. I am quite glad that we don't have to share the same table with the Ravenclaws. NEWT Runes at eight o'clock. I am so nervous that the tea is all I can keep down. What possessed me to take classes in the morning? It's far too bright, and everyone is so blasted cheerful. Current Mood: nervous and groggy (Comment on this)
Thursday, February 1st, 2007
4:45 am	late evening, Tuesday, 1 September 1942 ( hastily and irritably scrawled: ) Current Mood: sleepy (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 30th, 2007
12:30 am	Tuesday evening, 1 September 1942 ( If there is a Heaven and a Hell, Hell will surely be a more crowded version of the Common Room. ) Current Mood: out of sorts (Comment on this)
Monday, November 27th, 2006
8:34 am	after supper, 31 August 1942 ( written in periwinkle ink ) Current Mood: uncomfortable (Comment on this)
Friday, November 24th, 2006
2:59 pm	after supper, 31 August 1942 All right. I shall make a list, and then I will check it all off, and THEN everything will FINALLY be packed. Things That I Am Missing: ginger soap - I can smell it! Where can it BE? Frustrating cross thing. I shall just use the school soap, and THEN it will be sorry, wherever it is, gathering dust. Hmph. armillary sphere - the small one that fits on my desk my registered wand for Defence green ink bottle periwinkle ink bottle extra shoelaces red rock crystal lens for the little telescope poems and ballads - by ACR the green-and-silver big hat for Quidditch spectating and its hatpins AND its scarf - was Mira playing dress-up?! (Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 21st, 2006
12:41 am	Late afternoon, 31 August 1942 Generally, I try to avoid involving my little sister in things - like our only female cousin's SEXUAL AFFAIRS - that I feel she shouldn't know too much about (sigh; by this time next year, she'll be in the Snake Pit, jaded like the rest of us, but that still doesn't mean I have to encourage it). But I was putting together my schedule for this term - it's truly horrible, I think they're trying to kill us all - and she came in with her cat and announced, "Arianwen did something real bad. It has to do with a Mudblood," I couldn't say it wasn't true. So I did something terminally stupid - I went and leaned over the bannister as far as I could to hear my mother - who, fortunately in this case, NEVER. STOPS. TALKING. - and ....Mira was right. Arianwen DID do something 'bad' with a Mudblood. It was at that damn party, no doubt - apparently they found a room or left together or SOMEthing....and they apparently, well, had sex. I can't remember his face! How very odd! Not Gresham's - he's that sort of well-scrubbed earnest that she likes - but Martius'. I just realized. I just remember Arianwen's face when Martius was around. She would pull in on herself, and she'd very obviously be forcing the appearance of calm. I remember praying to avoid that, and I know all of us were quietly grateful when the Germans took care of the problem. But still! That doesn't mean anything, and no one should know about that anyway! We all sent notes to the family, and in public we all said we regretted it, even if Martius Snape was a waste of good blood! It's not that I condemn her for having boys - you know, Diary, that I wish boys weren't so very difficult and opaque and that I could find just one that made any sense whatsoever - but ... even though I truly disliked Martius Snape, she's still in her mourning period for him. But... I wish I were brave enough to do something like that. I wish there was someone that I thought was worth it. I'll have to send her an owl, and cut anyone who decides it would be a lovely subject for conversation. I'll have to start thinking up insults now. Maybe a list, later? I wonder where she'll be on the train. Current Mood: uncomfortable (Comment on this)
Monday, November 20th, 2006
10:19 am	Monday afternoon, 31 August 1942 I was making a list of what Mira and I have left to pack - honestly, it's mostly me; I've managed to get just about everything I can think of for her into her trunk, and that reminds me - I need to do something nice for Magistra Gardiner, because without folding charms I would never have managed - but in any event, the list was being made, but...Mother is telling Father something I'm not supposed to hear. She...it's so hard to describe...whispers in this very loud way. It's louder than talking quietly. Which sounds silly, but my mother makes it possible. I'm only listening because they mentioned Arianwen. Hopefully she'll repeat herself. Current Mood: busy (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, January 1st, 2006
11:41 pm	Sunday afternoon, 9 August 1942 Mother dragged me along on her shopping trip to Diagon Alley today. She wanted Mira to get the "whole experience", whatever that means. I have noticed, though, that Mother is far more willing to be maternal when she can get some shopping in on the side...and if I could tell anyone that, it really would be just about what anyone needed to know about my mother. We bumped into some old school chums of hers, Mrs. Moody and Mrs. Abbott, outside Gringotts. They, too, had brought their children. Two of them were Mira's age, so maybe she'll have some new friends at Hogwarts. But spending the entire day listening to three young children babbling nonstop was more than I could bear. Frances Abbott looked like she wanted to flee too, and at that moment I almost wished I knew her well enough to just go. Fortunately, Mother was in an agreeable mood today. Maybe the prospect of gossiping with her old friends had softened her up. She let me go off on my own, as long as I promised to meet her at the agreed upon time "right in front of Gringotts". She knew where I'd wind up anyway. It's not like she expected me to disappear into Knockturn Alley again. That astrolabe wasn't cursed, just ugly. But there's a running joke in the family that if I'm not at Aphelion's, I'm in in Flourish and Blotts buying some old and ancient tome. I cannot be that predictable. I refuse. (And besides, where do they think I get the hats? Rituals of Major Creation on auspicious days?) So instead I went to Fleur du Lutece and sighed over the cotton velvets. I would love a deep brown velvet opera cloak, with kid gloves, and a dress that sparkles, and jewelry... but at least for this next year, it's boring warm skirts and sensible scuffed brogans. Make do and mend! Bah. It's so dreary to keep wearing the same things all the time. I wonder, if I made Antares dig up someone to take me to the Yule Ball and let her find out, would she get me the cloak and the dress? Mother has said it, straight out: she would far rather I'd try to meet some nice well-connected Pureblood boy, instead of staring at the stars all the time, or down into a book, or even up into a mirror with a hat on my head. But I can't help it. Stars and hats and books make so much more sense than people. Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)
Thursday, November 3rd, 2005
11:07 am	31 July 1942 Mira is twirling around the room. She can't contain her excitement. Ever since the owl arrived this morning with her letter, she has been delirious. I am, in the spirit of being a good sister, attempting to remember that she's not got an owl of her very own with important news, ever. I do wish she'd stop spinning though. It's making me nauseous. I predicted that she'd fall down dizzy an hour ago. I'm rather sad to be wrong. At least she's spinning somewhere she'll bounce. Mother and Father are pleased, of course (though the bouncing on the bed is hopefully still a secret from them) at least the news deflects some of their great disappointment with me. No prefect or Head Girl badge for this Black, just the usual letter of supplies. I know they are disappointed. My mother has a glare like a duchess - I swear I can feel it through the walls. At least she's stopped shouting! Never mind I passed the Astronomy OWL with the highest marks in ages, even for a Black. Good marks in Astronomy are Expected. I have a lowering suspicion that even if I HAD been a prefect or Merlin forbid, Head Girl, I would have simply gotten contented murmurs from my parents rather than any celebratory gifts or remarks or ANYthing. I'm certain that Gryffindor got the nod. She was marked down for Head Girl when we were barely firsties for Merlin's sake. As for Head Boy, I wonder if I should owl Antares and see if I should offer congratulations or condolences. I suppose I'll hear soon enough. Mum will have the news before anyone else does. She's stopped twirling. Now she's singing. I love my sister, really I do...I wonder if I could divert some of her excessive energy into a walk in the park? Current Mood: discontent (Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 12th, 2005
1:09 pm	STOP! All posts in this journal prior to this one were part of the old game, lightningwar v.1.0 and have been locked. No post prior to this one is part of lightning_war v2.0.