| 2-9-42 |
[28.02.07|02:01] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  busy | ] |
Really, there’s no understanding Slytherins. You’d think a little bit of clutter round the common room was a personal offence. I find it rather rich of Marvell to complain about our living habits considering she was raised by a pack of filthy Muggles!
I dash well hope she doesn’t do this again tomorrow. While I understand that her life is so unfulfilled that she could spend hours every day assisting her Head of House sort through the common room’s detritus, I do have something of a social life. There are enough misplaced books in here to start a library and only half of them have the names on the flyleaf!
Not to mention the embarrassment in finding one of my own volumes inside the box in question! I’m quite sure Graffius must have been borrowing it, I certainly wouldn’t be so careless with my own property. Anyone who leaves a book for Slytherins to pick up obviously didn’t want their book that much and the fact that I am two books richer from having done the sorting is proof of that.
After all, I deserved some payment for my efforts. And who knows where the firewhiskey had been? |
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| 30-8-42 |
[22.10.06|06:02] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  grumpy | ] |
After awaking in the pink and be-kittened hellhole that is Dolores Umbridge’s lair, I didn’t think the day could get worse. It did.
Fickle. Fickle. Really, I’m offended. I am perfectly capable of eternal devotion—well, when Mudbloods don’t decide to involve themselves in these affairs. I have no idea how I will be able to look that blackguard in the face during prefects meetings.
(Is it any wonder I got drunk as a Dashwood last night? I’m surprised I was much good to Dolores, with the amount of ‘drinkies’ I consumed—and someone really needs to inform her how utterly twee it is to call one’s alcohol that. However, it shan’t be me.) |
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| 25-8-42 |
[16.06.06|01:37] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  worried | ] |
Dash and dear little Cel Warrington just had their betrothal announced. It’s a very good match as long as you ignore the fact that Dash is a congenital invert. (But of course, the Dashwoods couldn’t go engaging him to Crouch or Hadrian Kyteler.)
Still. This only emphasises that they’ll be announcing mine soon.
I wish I could know if the hints about Jessica Walsingham have gotten through to them. |
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| 22-8-42 |
[12.04.06|02:54] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  excited | ] |
Lord Malfoy has been raised from the dead and Magister Kyteler has announced the birth of his bastard eleven years after the fact, but what really matters is that Cynthia Mulciber is throwing a party a week from tonight. The APs may disagree with my priorities, but I shall stick with them.
And given that Cynthia is throwing it, I am sure Jessica Walsingham shall be there. Which, in my opinion, is a very, very, very good thing. Hopefully I shall not have to spend too much time dodging Dolores. (Or that Cynthia’s wretched brother has contributed much to the guest list.) |
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| 18-8-42 |
[24.02.06|00:34] |
Had a minor tiff with Kreacher on the subject of my new waistcoat. Ever since becoming my valet, he’s decided that it is his duty to make sure that I am outfitted to his satisfaction and the old elfish stubbornness you sometimes hear about has definitely taken hold. He seems to have taken issues with the pattern of the brocade—why, I do not know.
I am seriously considering ordering him to steal away to Hogwarts with me. Despite our sartorial differences he has been a most excellent servant and I would not like returning home for the Christmas holidays to find that Auntie Elladora has taken it into her mind to behead him. Besides, Kreacher is absolutely the last elf to consider joining the revolt, even if it weren’t only a product of Auntie’s morbid imagination—he’d rightly consider it quite beneath him.
I have been hinting further about the Walsinghams to the Pater. Hopefully, those hints are getting somewhere. |
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| 14-8-42 |
[18.01.06|03:01] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | aggravated | ] |
Lady Rosier is here. So is her Wig. It deserves to be capitalised, for it is the utter culmination of wiggery for women. I am sure she has bought her coiffure from the same merchants that Lord DeVries bought his and it would serve the two of them right if their two hairpieces eloped, much as the dish ran away with the spoon.
It’s a pity that they shall never do the same things themselves. But of course Lady Rosier is such a dried-up old stick that one suspects her children were really born by Lord Rosier’s mistress and as for DeVries… well. I think we all can agree now that the old man has gone quite senile.
He’s been talking about making Melina Ducas his wife.
I know this, because I overheard DeVries’ daughter-in-law complaining about this mad scheme to the Mater. Him! Why, he’s ninety if he’s a day! Yes, he did have her with Warrington in front of the rest of the Knights but there is a good deal of difference between what happens within the Abbey and what happens without!
He’s a mad-man. He’s married and if he thinks he can get them to grant him a divorce for the express purpose of taking a girl but a quarter of his age to wed, he deserves to be shut up at Mungo’s in a room next to his wife.
And the lady in question cannot come to tea with me. I have locked myself in my room and bid my valet Kreacher to bring me alcohol in order to soothe my pain. |
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| 11-8-42 |
[09.01.06|19:16] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  horny | ] |
I have kept up with the Walsingham hints to the Pater. I don’t know how well they are doing, but at least I am making some effort.
I am starting to think that Ducas wouldn’t be such a bad mate either, after the most recent events. After all, she’ll need someone to take care of her after Zabini’s apparent misdecision.
True, she is a foreigner and a pauper. But she is beautiful (that flawless dusky skin!) and after seeing her gloriously on her knees amongst the Knights…
This is not a sight I will forget soon.
Hard to believe it was Ducas. Sharped-tongue Ducas, Zabini’s private property.
Zabini is an utter fool to discard such a jewel and I will declare it to anyone willing to listen.
(And she is a necromancer. Why, Auntie Elladora would likely not scare her a bit!) |
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| 5-8-42 |
[10.12.05|01:01] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  dismayed | ] |
They like each other.
Auntie and Dolores… they like each other. Dolores didn’t even bat an eye at Auntie’s guillotine.
Good lord, but today did not work as planned.
Well, if Auntie wants to have Dolores back for tea, she can invite her herself. As for Dolores’ undoubted suddenly raised hopes…
Well. At least I can inform the Pater as to Auntie’s approval of her. I can’t think of a better way to get her out of the running for my bride.
Perhaps I can drop some hints about the Walsinghams too. |
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| 3-8-1942 |
[04.12.05|21:52] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  listless | ] |
Wailing and gnashing of teeth. And I heard that Minister Umbridge's liquor was exceedingly fine too. Perhaps I should have conducted my shopping along with the plebian masses after all.
Ah, well. There shall be other parties. It is only a pity we shall never pay host to any, but I do not think my peers would appreciate Auntie's forays into 'interior decorating.' |
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| 31-7-42 |
[02.11.05|19:14] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | irritated | ] |
Not Head Boy.
Oh, there shall be a wailing and gnashing of teeth in the Most Noble House of Black. And many long and tedious lectures.
At least when Merope was overlooked we had the excuse that Chattox is utterly mad. With Dippet there is no consolation.
I am retreating behind my bed curtains in hope that the world will seem brighter in the morning. Or at least not aggravate my migraines. |
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