Everything is a Diary ((Carson))

[Sydney Rawson H6]

(( The title was named after this quote that seemed to be my insperation for this post. Maybe we can go along with the feeling of the quote? "Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary." ))


Counting down, it was a little over a week before Christmas day. 'Last minute' shoppers scurried around Hogsmeade like ants on a dropped lollipop. Christmas carols rang through the streets as uniquely decorated wreaths sat on each door. Lights layered the awnings of some buildings giving just the right amount of shimmer to the falling large puffs of snow. The trees on the street corners, were decorated in random themes. It was guaranteed a tree somewhere in town would sit someone near to heart. Hogsmeade seemed like a winter wonderland. And as the evening was drawing near, some families went home for dinner, or simply stacked into The Three Broomsticks or Hog's Head. This seemed like the ideal time to shop for one logically thinking Hufflepuff.

Sydney was staying at Hogwarts for the Holiday. She missed her family with all of her heart, but she needed this time away to prepare herself for the upcoming summer where she would travel alone. She needed to get used to the feeling of being alone. Growing up with such a big family, it was one thing that she seemed to never get used to. But, with a bunch of confidence and excitement, Sydney knew she could overcome something as minute as that. This summer was her dream, luckily it came much sooner than she ever dreamed. In her mind, she would have to do it after graduation. However, Her parent's trusted her now, that she could do as she pleased. In the back of her mind, she thought about inviting someone to join her. But she wasn't quite sure who would like to go on such an adventure, or who she was close enough to. But, it wasn't a major factor of her journey. She didn't stress about inviting a backpack buddy just yet. It was barely winter, for bloody hell! She still had plenty of time to plan her adventure out.

Walking the streets of Hogsmeade wrapped up in a long orange pea coat that fell just above her knees, Sydney watched the family's take shelter for the evening in the Three Broomsticks. Her coat had accented with hints of purple and red in the stitches which did not match the array of Green and Red decorated around the town. Syd pulled up her hood to keep the falling snow out of her hair. There was not a cold breeze in the area, which made the night out seem perfect. Just softly fluttering of snow to dance it's own way down to the earth's ground. Continuing down the street Syd decided to stop into the local craft mastery shop to pick up some paints for her brothers, so seemed to fancy and carry the talent of art that Sydney did not contain. Syd was a wide-eyed wanderer who loved thinking deeply into things. Art was something she loved to admire, but simply lacked the skill of ever creating something anyone would ever call "Artistic". Syd's main skills consisted of more physical things such as Quidditch and Football. However, she had the broad and expressive mind that most artists had. Pushing the heavy mahogany door open, a bell rang as the door hit it when Sydney entered.

[Carson McGreggor H6]

Carson couldn’t believe this. It was as if he had fallen into a pit of despair and sadness, and would never emerge. Any little thing could set him off these days. He hadn’t even smiled since end of last term, not even when he was around Casey. He let out a long sigh as he searched through his messy room. Where is that damn thing? Carson snarled to himself. He threw clothing around everywhere, looking for that stupid pouch. Where was it? Carson flung various pairs of pants and many different t-shirts across the room in search of his small special pouch. That thing had everything Carson needed. It had his money that he would need for the day, and it had the floo power he would need to get there. All Carson wanted to do was stay home and paint or practice his guitar, but he couldn’t. He had to go run errands for his sister. He had to go buy gifts for his sister and Casey of course. Ezzie sure as hell deserved a Christmas present from him this year as well.

But there was one person Carson knew would not get to enjoy Christmas this year. Ethan Jacobs had not made it to the Christmas of 1999. There were so many things he would not be able to do, just because of that damned man. Thinking about his friend Ethan made Carson want to punch a hole in the wall. The only thing that stopped Carson from doing so was the sudden realization that he and his sister would not be able to afford fixing the wall if he broke it. Usually, money wasn’t a problem for Carson and his sister. Julia was an artist. She taught classes to students from her apartment (it was where Carson became such a good artist) and on the side, she sold paintings of her own. Her paintings normally sold for a lot of money, but lately, no one seemed interested in Julia’s art. He sighed heavily. Finally, he found it. He grabbed the pouch and flung some green powder into the fireplace and picked up a large painting that he had recently finished. He stepped into the emerald green flames with the painting and spoke loud and clear. “Hogsmeade!” He practically roared.

Once he was there, Carson made his way to a local craft shop near the homes of Hogsmeade. He approached the store, trying to ignore the holiday cheer that was everywhere. Hadn’t these people heard? Most of these kids were hoping about the village doing their last minute shopping or just lurking about the village for no real reason at all. As Carson approached the store, he noticed a colorful and cheery Christmas wreath on the door. Carson felt like a complete Grinch lately. Having one of your friends move to Sweden and losing another friend to the Angel of Death didn’t exactly put most people in the holiday cheer. Ethan and his family were known worldwide for their money, and Ethan was one boy who had a very large fan base. If that was true, then why did it seem like no one cared that he died? His wake was tomorrow, and that was going to be the last time anyone got a chance to see Ethan’s face. Then there was the funeral. The funeral would be a much more painful event for Carson to endure because it was much more public and there would be so many people. All of Hogwarts had been invited, and then there were the hundred or so muggles that would be present as well. Carson could not picture someone like Ethan lying motionless in a wooden (Carson had heard that the Jacobs family would be using a marble coffin for their son’s burial, but didn’t believe it) casket, being lowered into the cold damp ground of the playground he used to play in. Carson let out a long sigh as he walked through the shop grumpily.

He glanced down at the picture in his arms. It was a picture his sister had made for him years ago, and it meant so much to Carson. But, Julia’s classes weren’t bringing in enough money and Carson wouldn’t get paid for his job for another month or so, (he was a guitarist in Eden Sweden’s band) and Julia and Carson needed some money to pay the rent for the months of October, November, and December. If they didn’t provide rent money soon, Julia and Carson would be evicted. Carson shuddered at the thought. He was about to approach the sales clerk behind a large wooden desk, but he bumped into someone on the way. “Erm…sorry.” He mumbled, although it sounded more like a snarl or a growl. Carson couldn’t help it. He seemed to be in a constant state of anger lately, and no one but Casey, Julia, and Ezzie made him happy in the slightest. He guarded his painting to make sure it wasn’t damaged. This painting would depend on whether Carson and Julia would stay in their apartment or not. If anything happened to it, Carson would never forgive himself.

[Sydney Rawson H6]

Walking into the shop, at first glance it looked like an artist's dream. Paints hung from the ceiling by the hundreds. All were filed by artist and genre. Some still dripped onto the floor below, where "WET PAINT" signs laid to gather up the falling messes and soaking the colors up so no one would actually get wet paint on their shoes. The walls were layered with books, canvases, brushes, inks, pastels, oil paints, acrylic pants, chalk, coal, and anything else you could ever think of all the way up to the ceiling, about 20 feet high. The room seemed a bit cluttered due to the mass amounts of colors streamed through the smaller space. Luckily, this shop was not vertically confided for storage space. The middle of the room was devoted to sculptures. Human or abstract, both were in the middle of the room on display for public sale. Making sure she did not walk into any of the displayed items she made her way around the room to find the right paints for her younger brothers.

Starting at the shelves to her right, Sydney scanned the entire wall for play paints. One ideal gift for her younger brothers were some type of paint that did not stain. Since up in Scotland, they were in midwinter, the two could not paint outside, and were confined into the house for their artistic doings. The Rawson household did not have a room that was good for painting. One that could be splattered and lightly worn for the two to do as they pleased. And Syd's mother was slowly but surely getting sick and tired of cleaning up after the two. So, her goal was to find a paint that only showed up on canvas, not walls, furniture, carpeting, or wooden floors. Searching the wall, she couldn't find anything of the sort. The wall she was currently at was covered in pencils, pens, markers, and something like jelly... Sydney was lost. A look of worry crossed her face as she began to bite her lip. Turning around, she looked at the adjacent wall across the room. That wall was covered in paper, canvas, stencils, yarn, string, and everything else under the sun but paint. There has to be paint somewhere in this shop! Seriously, come on now... Sydney thought to herself as she looked at the walls to her left and right; First left, which was the door, and the window showing a Christmas trees. Then the right, which was where the sales clerk's desk was. Huffing for a second Sydney took off her hood as she played with her hair in a nervous habit. She wasn't one to worry much, but if she had her mind set on this gift for awhile, she would feel horrible after telling her mother she would buy this for the twins.

Figuring the best idea was to ask the clerk for advice, possibly she could just buy any paint and if he knew a spell she could cast on it, then that could work. Or if he already had some, that would even more splendid. However, the clerk looked slightly busy with three people already waiting in line to speak to him. The older man was working alone tonight, which Sydney found peculiar, due to the fact it was the days nearing Christmas. Wouldn't you think more people would be on the job? Walking toward the sculptures on display Sydney decided to waste time in waiting for the clerk by looking at a few art pieces. Nearing the first, it was made out of what looked like clay. He was to actual size and resembled the age of later sixties. He stood on a pedestal for display purposes. Studying the sculpture she watched as he stood over a wand which was broken at his feet. He sculpture moved every so often. You could obviously tell by it's reaction time that he was an older man. He knelt down to get his wand, and fix it, but it could not be. The look of depression crossed his face as he looked up to his audience. Then, the actions repeated.

Suddenly, Sydney felt a force onto her back shoulder as she quickly fell into the sculpture. The clay man quickly fell over and hit into a painting on display behind it, ripping the canvas in half. As soon as the sculpture fell of its pedestal it hit the floor and cracked into several hundred different pieces. Sydney laid in the middle of this wreckage with her hands on several of the broken pieces and her head on the ground. A few people inside of the store quickly turned around with the loud crashes and bangs to see what was the commotion. The store clerk quickly stood up from his desk and shouted "BLOODY HELL!" as he stormed from behind his desk with his cane behind him to inspect the mess. "What In Blood Hell Were You Doing!?" He expelled onto Sydney as she slowly gained strength to get to her knees. The clerk continued to scream obscenities as Sydney looked around to the wreckage she caused. "My word....." she spoke softly to herself as she looked up and saw the beautiful sculpture she just was admiring cracked on the ground, and two pieces of a canvas ripped on the ground. Lowering her head, her hair fell in front of her face as she listened to the screams of the clerk. Syd felt embarrassed as her eyes focused on the ground, where a small pool of blood started to form.

[Carson McGreggor H6]

Carson watched as the cheery peacefulness of the shop turned quickly into havoc and mayhem. He looked down and noticed he had knocked a girl to the floor in his effort to get to the sales clerk’s desk. He didn’t understand why his landlord had to be so heartless. Didn’t he understand that even if Julia wasn’t dealing with supporting Carson by herself (Although Carson insisted on paying half the rent as he lived there too) and even if they both weren’t dealing with the death of a friend, it was Christmas? Christmas was a time for forgiveness, happiness, and fun. It was not a time for funerals and eviction notices and bills to pay. It just wasn’t supposed to be that way. Carson sighed as he looked down at the wreck he had caused. Couldn’t he do anything right? He bent down to try and help fix the mess he had made, but seeing the creation he had destroyed almost made Carson gasp. The beautiful sculpture was something Julia had worked hard on for months when she was a little girl. She tried to use the sculpture as a peace treaty between herself and her aunt and uncle. She spent weeks perfecting the clay and even longer enchanting it. She presented them with the gift on Christmas day of the year she turned thirteen. They told Julia it was the most hideous thing they ever saw in their lives, but for the sake of Christmas, they would keep it in the shed so no one would have to see it. Carson remembered walking into their room that night. He was only a little boy, and she a thirteen year old girl, but they had been forced to sleep in the same room anyway. But Carson didn’t mind. Julia was a good big sister.

And now, more than six years later, here was this same sculpture, lying in pieces on the floor of a small craft shop in Hogsmeade. And in the corner over there was a painting he had seen Julia working on just weeks ago. It was beautiful, but now it was ruined…and it was all Carson’s fault. Carson looked around the shop. Julia’s creations were all over the place. But why were they all here in this discount craft store and not hanging in the homes of the rich and the wealthy? Carson sighed. Those people didn’t know what good art really was. All they cared about was the name. If one famous celebrity thought an artist was amazing, the other celebrity would buy from them. But, if the artist had no connection to their sometimes pathetic lives like Julia, they would completely ignore them. Julia deserved to have her paintings hung in museums, not here. He bent down to help the clerk pick up the mess. He looked quite old and probably wouldn’t be able to do it on his own.

Normally, Carson wouldn’t have bothered, especially in his current mood. But these were works of art, and they were created by his kind and loving sister. He felt an obligation to help this man out. He bent down and the old man smiled. “Ah, you’re a McGreggor I suppose. What has your sister got to sell me this time?” he said cheerfully, forgetting about the mess on the floor. This man obviously looked forward to seeing Julia’s works of art. He held up the painting for the old man to see. The man smiled brightly. “Lovely, as always. I’ll give you 300 galleons for it. This one is a gem. I should only be giving you 200 though, but it is Christmas after all. That should solve your problems, Mr. McGreggor.” Said the man cheerfully, raising his wand. With one flick, a small wooden box came floating into his hands. He handed Carson a pouch full of gold and Carson managed a thankful smile. So maybe Julia’s paintings deserved to be here after all. At least her artwork would be appreciated here. He pocketed the gold. “Merry Christmas, Mr. McGreggor. Send your sister my love! You look just like her you know.’ The man said happily as he limped back to his desk on his cane. Many customers were waiting. This would be enough to pay all the bills Carson and Julia needed, and then they would even have some left over! Feeling slightly more cheerful than before, Carson approached the girl he had so rudely knocked down before. “Hey, I’m sorry I knocked you down before. I wasn’t in the best of moods.” He mumbled, sounding slightly less grumpy than before. He offered the red headed teenager his hand. “I’m Carson McGreggor by the way.” He said, holding out his hand for the girl to shake. Despite Ethan’s death and his family’s money problems, Carson finally felt like he was in the spirit of Christmas. However, Carson had a feeling he’d feel much different in the coming days as Ethan’s funeral date approached. He sighed heavily, trying not to think about it.

[Sydney Rawson H6]

On her knees, facing the ground Syd felt her forehead. Pulling her hand away, she noted some blood came off on her finger. Cursing under her breath, she pulled herself to her feet as she examined the wreckage below her. "Bloody Hell!" Sydney roared as she shook her head. The boy who pushed her over came over and tried to help her. Raising her head to his, she locked eyes with him. "Thanks, Thanks A Lot..... Carson McGreggor." she shot as he finished introducing himself. Sydney was not as angry as she made it out to be, but she was more frustrated, upset, and shaken up than anything. Now, she had to pay for the damages- to the priceless damages, she could not get her brothers presents because of the money she had to spend now. Nor, could she ever show her face back into this shop for the scene she just made in front of several different people! What a great holiday season... joy joy joy joy joy! A million thoughts rang through her mind a she looked back from the boy, to the ground. What was she to do. Turning around she spoke to the sales clerk as he seemed to take post behind his desk once again to tend to another customer, instead of making a scene himself. "I am truly sorry." she spoke as she neared the man. "I will pay for all of the damages. I swear." she bit her lip as she looked back to mess behind her.

Raising her sleeve to her forehead, she pressed down hard, to stop the bleeding. Pressure on a wound always did help, in time of course. Looking at the boy, who just introduced himself, she narrowed her eyes with a deep glare. She didn't have words to say to him. She wanted to yell, but nothing seemed to come out. She knew she did not have enough galleons to pay off all of this today, she would obviously have to pay it off in payments. All she had was 6 galleons, that seems sufficient enough to buy only paint, but no. Now, she had to pay off a painting and a sculpture that both seemed one of a kind. Sydney's eyes toward Carson were first fumed with anger. But, as thoughts rolled in and out of her mind, her eyes began to weaken. The angry tense of her lips relaxed as she shook her head softer now and lowered it."No." she spoke. "No, it's fine. Don't worry about it." she said as she shrugged her shoulders at Carson. She felt like her holiday was ruined now. Not only her holiday, but the next few months she would have to get money off her parents to pay off the two works of art, they would never get to see. Sydney felt embarrassed and ashamed as she left tears enter her eyes. Syd was never one to cry in public, and the second she felt the feeling, she held back and turned her head to the clerk.

Now, standing directly in line after two woman in front of her. She took out her galleons in her pocket, and played with the in her hands. It was her fault. Carson, it was an accident for him. She was the one standing too close, she was the one that most likely pushed into Carson, and he just retaliated back due to his was busy himself and admitted to not being in the best of moods of the moment. The wound on her forehead was bright pink and puffy as the stain of blood still lingered on the wound. But the bleeding seemed to cease. Walking up a step in line, she waited as her turn was soon to talk to the sales clerk behind the desk.