Private Journal
I sit here, catching myself staring blindly out into the distance. The wind is blowing my hair around and I can't be bothered. I don't hear the whispers up here. The tell me I can fly, but they lie to me. Every one does.
I am so cold. Rodolphus is warm. Severus was but he lies too. Sirius lies, Remus lies they all lie.
Narcissa tries to be warm, as does Evan. They do...but...
I want to be warm and hear only the quiet.
Beauty...come, fly with us. Hurt the cold.