Everything is still happening.

I talked to Sloane on Thursday. I told her how I feel, or at least parts of it. I told her that it hurt that everyone shut me out and that I just wanted to help. It seems so silly that it was such a big deal to me when it took so little space on paper. But, I don't think it did anything. I left the conversation feeling just as hurt, sad, and desperate as I felt before. Again, the paper can't express how long it took me to pinpoint exactly how I was feeling. I feel like I've been writing this for so long now.

For once I'm glad I'm in Hufflepuff away from everyone else. I don't think I'd be brave enough to write this down if my friends could come across it at any time or ask me what I was writing. I want to think I would trust them not to read it, and I think I would still trust some of them. But some of them might be angry enough that the violation of trust and personal space wouldn't matter. Here it is quiet and I can reflect in peace.

But it doesn't change. Writing Daffy didn't help. Talking to Sloane didn't help. And writing here doesn't really help solve things either. I know Hufflepuffs are supposed to be loyal but a part of me just wants to leave. I want to tell them that if they don't want my help then they can sort it out on their own. That they can tell me when or if they ever solve it and that I'm going to find other friends to be with. I know that isn't loyal to me, but it hurts right now and I'm not sure how much more I can take.

I'm tired of feeling like scraps tossed to the dogs. Thrown from beast to beast. I really wish Ethel was here right now. I could use a hug. I think I'll go home next Hogsmeade day. I need it. I want Momma's hugs and cook's sweets.

Calla Potts