So, this is it. This is the end. I've made the box, I've cast the spells, I've written my first entry in the new journal. But it's hard to give up writing, harder than it ought to be, even when one knows one isn't private any more. (I wonder if this is why Ginny . . . ?) So I'm saying goodbye to myself, I suppose ( Read more... )

I had expected New Year's to be wild: we were all at the Weasleys'-- even Charlie made an appearance-- and I had expected a repeat of the sort of carousal I used to engage in with Ron's mates, only this time including Harry and Ron and Fred and George and maybe Neville and the rest . . . But then it snowed. It snowed heavily enough that it ( Read more... )

Christmas was very pleasant. I gave various useful presents (Japanese bowls for my mother, white hat and mittens for my grandfather, etc.) and received all sorts of objects for the flat, as well as a brown skirt and tweedy pullover that make me look positively professorial. (Pity I'll be wearing robes over them.) My grandfather told me all about ( Read more... )

An owl this morning: perfect marks in Euthumetric Analysis as well, which makes perfect all round, and thus a lovely start on a career as an arithmancer ( Read more... )

I have perfect marks in algebraic methods as well, which I wasn't at all expecting.

Harry has managed to work around my extra level of security and begin reading my journal again. I knew he would. I told him which spells I was casting, practically. But sometimes I wish I were in love with someone rather less bloody-minded. Bloody. Minded. Yes, I do mean all of the senses of that phrase.

Have perfect marks in Manifolds.

Padma won't be at the Weasleys after Christmas, after all; her own family is demanding to spend time with her. Still, there will be Harry and Ron, and nearly all the Weasleys . . . And Draco.

The professor for Lucretian philosophy of magic has declared me the best auditor she's ever had.

Ron promises me a Christmas pudding that he and Percy made. As one might expect of anything cooked by Ron, the pudding is apparently full of alcohol.