Argh.
Boy, was I glad when I woke up today that yesterday was over because yesterday was no doubt one of the worst days Hogwarts has ever seen. I bet my right foot that it has to be written in "Hogwarts, A History" somewhere but I'll never know since no one in their right mind would read such a gigantic book for nothing and the only person who seemed to have swallowed the whole book into her brain is STILL NOT BLOODY TALKING TO ME! YES, HERMIONE, I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU! Fine, I shouldn't have lied to her about sneaking out and all that BUT I SAID I WAS SORRY ALREADY, HAVEN'T I?! But no! Not good enough for Hermione there! What on earth am I supposed to do?! Write an essay on how GIRLS DO NOT ACCEPT APOLOGIES?! Mind you, she forgave Harry straight away when he apologised, but when I did? She told me to get a clue. How am I supposed to get a sodding clue about anything if she WON'T stop speaking in riddles?! What's the point of having such a bloody huge library when there aren't any books on Translating Hermionish?! Next Divination class I'll be sure to write "driven into St Mungo's and doomed to suck meals through straws as brain has dribbled out of ears, thanks to Hermione Granger" in my future predictions. I'm sure Trelawney would be pleased.
Speaking of that wrinkled, oversized dragonfly, I had to serve detention with her yesterday. Why? Because Harry spilled pumpkin juice over Parkinson. What? It doesn't make sense? OF COURSE IT BLOODY DOESN'T! SNAPE IS BARKING MAD! He has decided to do some ridiculous Isolate Potter plan by giving detentions to everyone for things Harry did. Brilliant, just brilliant. As if Harry needs anymore isolation, he's been ridiculously quiet ever since the match last week and very bloody distracted. I mean, honestly, you've GOT to be sod blind to trip over Goyle's foot. That lump of a pea brain has legs thick enough to put the Whomping Willow to shame! And yet, Harry managed to trip over that trunk of a foot and spill juice over Parkinson. Merlin knows why she was so upset. That strange shirt of hers is black anyway, who in the bloody world can see the stains on it?! But no, no, don't let that stop her from going to their beloved house head and throw a hissy fit and getting ME into detention. WITH TRELAWNEY! It's not my bloody fault Parkinson is not getting enough sleep, look at her eyes! She looks like those Muggle bears with black rings around their eyes, only she has more facial hair, haha! What kind of sodding logic is it to put ME in detention when Harry spilled the juice?! Not that I'm blaming Harry or anything, but bloody hell! I had to polish a million crystal balls! And not just any common crystal balls, mind you, THESE ONES CAN BLOODY TALK!
For three whole hours I had to listen to stupid git balls telling me about my future. It really didn't help that all of them had the same Trelawney's constipated voice. "Ooooh, what blue aura you have there, dear boy, a lot of conflicts for you in the coming months." Or better yet, "Lovely palm lines! Let's see...you like to do things with your hands, don't you?" Well, genius, WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THINGS WITH? MY NOSE?! HONESTLY! And I can't even begin to explain how disturbing it is to hear a crystal ball say, "Ahhhh, yes, right there, rub it harder, dear." I think I'm scarred for life. But anyway, I survived that and went off to look for Harry to serve ANOTHER detention. With FILCH this time. I hate my life. And Harry was still behaving as weird as ever. Hermione is STILL ignoring me. Bloody fantastic. I'm thinking of learning Owlspeak so I can at least have Pig to bloody talk to.
Detention with Filch was lovely as always. Harry was sent to serve his in the Slytherin dungeons, the poor thing, while I had to clean out the chicken coop. It wasn't that horrible really, except for one particular huge arse hen that kept flinging rice grains into my ear. What do they think they're doing, keeping mad chicken like that in the coop? If any hen needs therapy, that one very bloody does. After I was done with the cleaning, I went back to meet Harry, who looked like he just walked into Bulstrode in the shower. I really hope he didn't or he's never going to recover from THAT. But I was too bloody exhausted to ask. Fainted on my bed the second I reached the dorm, I've never been so happy to see my bed in my life. Maybe I'll have a chance to ask Harry later. There's a Hufflepuff versus Slimerins match this afternoon. Not sure if I'm going to watch it. But anyway, got to go now. Time to hunt down Hermione and slit my throat to get her to bloody forgive me. Ugh, why do I even bother?!
Speaking of that wrinkled, oversized dragonfly, I had to serve detention with her yesterday. Why? Because Harry spilled pumpkin juice over Parkinson. What? It doesn't make sense? OF COURSE IT BLOODY DOESN'T! SNAPE IS BARKING MAD! He has decided to do some ridiculous Isolate Potter plan by giving detentions to everyone for things Harry did. Brilliant, just brilliant. As if Harry needs anymore isolation, he's been ridiculously quiet ever since the match last week and very bloody distracted. I mean, honestly, you've GOT to be sod blind to trip over Goyle's foot. That lump of a pea brain has legs thick enough to put the Whomping Willow to shame! And yet, Harry managed to trip over that trunk of a foot and spill juice over Parkinson. Merlin knows why she was so upset. That strange shirt of hers is black anyway, who in the bloody world can see the stains on it?! But no, no, don't let that stop her from going to their beloved house head and throw a hissy fit and getting ME into detention. WITH TRELAWNEY! It's not my bloody fault Parkinson is not getting enough sleep, look at her eyes! She looks like those Muggle bears with black rings around their eyes, only she has more facial hair, haha! What kind of sodding logic is it to put ME in detention when Harry spilled the juice?! Not that I'm blaming Harry or anything, but bloody hell! I had to polish a million crystal balls! And not just any common crystal balls, mind you, THESE ONES CAN BLOODY TALK!
For three whole hours I had to listen to stupid git balls telling me about my future. It really didn't help that all of them had the same Trelawney's constipated voice. "Ooooh, what blue aura you have there, dear boy, a lot of conflicts for you in the coming months." Or better yet, "Lovely palm lines! Let's see...you like to do things with your hands, don't you?" Well, genius, WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THINGS WITH? MY NOSE?! HONESTLY! And I can't even begin to explain how disturbing it is to hear a crystal ball say, "Ahhhh, yes, right there, rub it harder, dear." I think I'm scarred for life. But anyway, I survived that and went off to look for Harry to serve ANOTHER detention. With FILCH this time. I hate my life. And Harry was still behaving as weird as ever. Hermione is STILL ignoring me. Bloody fantastic. I'm thinking of learning Owlspeak so I can at least have Pig to bloody talk to.
Detention with Filch was lovely as always. Harry was sent to serve his in the Slytherin dungeons, the poor thing, while I had to clean out the chicken coop. It wasn't that horrible really, except for one particular huge arse hen that kept flinging rice grains into my ear. What do they think they're doing, keeping mad chicken like that in the coop? If any hen needs therapy, that one very bloody does. After I was done with the cleaning, I went back to meet Harry, who looked like he just walked into Bulstrode in the shower. I really hope he didn't or he's never going to recover from THAT. But I was too bloody exhausted to ask. Fainted on my bed the second I reached the dorm, I've never been so happy to see my bed in my life. Maybe I'll have a chance to ask Harry later. There's a Hufflepuff versus Slimerins match this afternoon. Not sure if I'm going to watch it. But anyway, got to go now. Time to hunt down Hermione and slit my throat to get her to bloody forgive me. Ugh, why do I even bother?!