I'm writing to say goodbye. I'll be leaving as soon as I tie up all my loose ends; I have been here far too long already.

It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just--I need to be somewhere I feel warm, if that's even possible anymore.

I shall miss--well, some of you. I don't quite know where I'm off to, but I'll write when I get there.

Harry, that's not kids' stuff you're messing about with. Of course, you aren't a kid, and you already know that, but I wanted you to know that I know you know that.

Brilliant. So now I know that you know that I know that you know that. All right, then?

Dear Minerva ( Read more... )

Why, Severus--I'd no idea that the upcoming ball was to be held under your auspices. I didn't realise you had the party-planning spirit within you.

Minerva has already mentioned the dress code, of which I wholly approve, yet I have one question for you as the organiser: do cravats fall into the category of formal attire?

All in all, last night went rather well. Uneventful, though I believe in cases such as this that uneventful is the best possible result. No lingering side effects anywhere, right?

I'll see you all again next week, same time.

In other news, my younger brother Charlie appears to be horribly envious of my manner of dress. I can't say that I'm

My head hurts so much I can't see straight.

Severus, how--how did it go?

An open letter to Severus Snape:

As per your instructions, have Apparated to Greece and am waiting patiently for you on the beach at Monolithos.

In fact, have been waiting patiently for three full hours. Am horribly sunburnt. Have lost all ability to speak in full sentences.

Where are you, you utter arse? The sun wreaks havoc on the Weasley ( Read more... )

Tip's little brother died today. Please note that I don't particularly wish to talk about it. I am only marking it down here so that I can always remember exactly when it happened. That's all I need. I don't think I will easily forget the how and why.

My younger brothers Fred and George, if you care to know, have a horribly untidy flat above their shop in Diagon Alley and several litres of the poorest quality firewhisky imaginable.

Now, this is the life.

Oh, for the love of Hogwarts.

What is she doing here? Isn't there any sort of quality control ( Read more... )