The Diary (pottermort)

chapter fifty-two

One of many letters sent from Fleamont Potter to Tom Riddle over the course of Tom Riddle's temporary apprenticeship:

My Tom,

I've missed you here at Hogwarts. I love you. I know you think I say that too much, but my heart's a renewable resource. My love comes freely and easily. My soul's a tree, here's a leaf. So. I love you.

I hope you're receiving my weekly letters well!! I pour everything I have into them for you. I cherish every reply I receive.

It's, like, two in the morning, and I can't sleep. Me and Sage have been exchanging letters recently. It's been a weird couple of days. He's been very strange things. He's a great guy, I love him, but sometimes he's very odd, you know?

He wrote: "Your heart caters adoration and forgiveness. It is a rare heart to have, to accept the truth and accept him anyway. I applaud you, sire." He said sire, can you believe that? It sounds so affectionate, though. The way he wrote it. Maybe I should start calling you that, huh? "I love you, sire." I'm kinda fond of it.

I had replied, "Thank you. Accept who, though?"

And he had wrote, "Tom."

"Hm," I had wrote because it's an odd thing to say and an even harder thing to reply to. "Well, what does your heart cater to?"

"The truth." I wonder if it's a Seer thing. To cater the truth. It sure sounds like it, doesn't it?

And then I had asked, because I am beyond curious, "What does Tom's heart cater to?"

He responded oddly. He was very evasive. "You already know," he wrote. Do I? I think your heart caters yourself. I replied so. But he negated my claim.

"If not himself, then what?"

He would not specify. Perhaps that is his tact. "I will give you a list," he wrote instead. "Of things he may cater to, and examples, and definitions, and the like. You could ask him. But I think after reading them, you will know already." That was his latest letter. So I've been up a while. Trying to figure out what you are. But he was wrong, I think. I've read this thing a million times and I'm still coming up empty. Maybe Sage doesn't cater to the truth. Maybe Sage caters to his idea of such. I don't know.

So, I've made a quiz of sorts. For you. To figure out the contents of your heart. I don't mind the answer, by the by. I love you. I don't think choosing A, B, C, D, or E however many times will change that. A heart of adoration and forgiveness, eh? Oh, and your answers are going to be much less straight(ha)forward than that. I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy this, and I hope it appeases whatever it is your heart caters.

Choose the letter that matches closest your response the situation, keep track of however many times you answer each letter, and count then up at the end to get your results, okay? Okay. There are five questions in total.

1. the tar is alive. sentient. more so, angry. it wants compensation, because it is filled with glitter, because it is fed fakeness. it wants something more nutritious. your friend who is not a friend but not a foe, either, suggests you.

A. the skeleton in the blackness will not be your own.

B. there is no evil here. not your friend, not the tar. not you, either. your friend wants to live, and make an ally (a friend, one better than you). there is nothing more human than that.  the tar has been alone for longer than you know. it has seen the beginning and it will see the end. it is hungry because sparkles are not food. after festering its  rightful anger for so long, would you not want a snack, too? you are compassion.

C. the tar consumes you and sticks to your bones. it does not know that it is the one being trapped.

D. the right to live is only given to those who are alive in the first place. if one can leave the tar to drown, and one can, then one does. you are a bystander.