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Nadezhda Serenskaya Snape
I'm not talking of the first times; I never think about the last.
Created on 2005-02-21 09:12:36 (#6206810), last updated 2007-08-14
8,859 comments received, 17,791 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
285 Journal Entries, 3 Tags, 46 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 81 Userpics
| Name: | Nadezhda |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1980-03-13 |
FICTIONAL JOURNAL FICTIONAL JOURNAL FICTIONAL JOURNAL
This is a fictional journal. The opinions expressed herein are not those of the author. Events portrayed in this journal in no way represent actual events. No similarity to persons living or dead is intended. Witches are not real. Harry Potter and related indicia belong to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no money being made.
____________________________________________________________________________
It's the same story every night;
I've been hurt, and we've been had
You leave home, and you don't go back...
I won't do the David Copperfield bit. Suffice it to say I was once a teacher at one of the multiverse's many Hogwarts Schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One guess which subject I taught.
When I was very young and very stupid I met a man who would end up being more important to me than even I, at the tender age of eleven, realized; and as I grew older and the world around me grew more complicated, I never quite forgot that first meeting. Neither, it seems, did he.
I left Hogwarts early and transferred to Durmstrang, which was closer to home in any case; and my father--yes, that Kallikrates Serensky, the Auror--was perhaps pleased at my choice. And then the war came, and with the war everything changed. After some rather convoluted career decisions I came back to England, and to Hogwarts; and I taught for some little time before the Ministry's heavy hand closed on the school's curriculum, and my subject was no longer considered conducive to general morale. After that I came down to London, partly for the sake of a man in a trenchcoat and partly because I have always loved the city, and settled in Mayfair. I share, or rather shared, a flat with my friend Hippolyta Hollister, and kept myself afloat with jobbing thaumedicine, which is luckily always in demand these days. Tyrants rise and fall, wars drag on, but people will continue to need warts removed and mitral valves strengthened and broken bones made whole again.
My association with certain deities has made life rather more interestingly complicated; and after my involvement in a particularly fraught bit of mythological mechanics, I came to realize that I couldn't keep on as I had been, and that some serious mental gear-changing was required. We will not go into detail about the demon thing. It has no bearing.
I am now, as I have been, not-quite-human; but for the first time I am something approaching sanguine about it. And now, after everything, I find I have to begin again; to make a new life, for the second time, and perhaps make this one stick. I've been given more chances than most people ever earn. I think I owe it to those who stuck by me to make something of this last one.
This is a fictional journal. The opinions expressed herein are not those of the author. Events portrayed in this journal in no way represent actual events. No similarity to persons living or dead is intended. Witches are not real. Harry Potter and related indicia belong to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no money being made.
____________________________________________________________________________
It's the same story every night;
I've been hurt, and we've been had
You leave home, and you don't go back...
I won't do the David Copperfield bit. Suffice it to say I was once a teacher at one of the multiverse's many Hogwarts Schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One guess which subject I taught.
When I was very young and very stupid I met a man who would end up being more important to me than even I, at the tender age of eleven, realized; and as I grew older and the world around me grew more complicated, I never quite forgot that first meeting. Neither, it seems, did he.
I left Hogwarts early and transferred to Durmstrang, which was closer to home in any case; and my father--yes, that Kallikrates Serensky, the Auror--was perhaps pleased at my choice. And then the war came, and with the war everything changed. After some rather convoluted career decisions I came back to England, and to Hogwarts; and I taught for some little time before the Ministry's heavy hand closed on the school's curriculum, and my subject was no longer considered conducive to general morale. After that I came down to London, partly for the sake of a man in a trenchcoat and partly because I have always loved the city, and settled in Mayfair. I share, or rather shared, a flat with my friend Hippolyta Hollister, and kept myself afloat with jobbing thaumedicine, which is luckily always in demand these days. Tyrants rise and fall, wars drag on, but people will continue to need warts removed and mitral valves strengthened and broken bones made whole again.
My association with certain deities has made life rather more interestingly complicated; and after my involvement in a particularly fraught bit of mythological mechanics, I came to realize that I couldn't keep on as I had been, and that some serious mental gear-changing was required. We will not go into detail about the demon thing. It has no bearing.
I am now, as I have been, not-quite-human; but for the first time I am something approaching sanguine about it. And now, after everything, I find I have to begin again; to make a new life, for the second time, and perhaps make this one stick. I've been given more chances than most people ever earn. I think I owe it to those who stuck by me to make something of this last one.
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