I was out for a smoke, eh, and suddenly I saw someone apparate in the wrong place. Death by fence is pretty fucking bloody. Makes me not want to apparate for the next hour or something, but I doubt I'd be able to live without apparition anymore, eh. Here in this book, I, Sturgis V. Podmore, declare that if I were to die so stupidly, I would
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Anyway, Fevermont asked me to write his obituary, since apparently nobody else wanted to. All I had to do was remember all those fond words spoken at the Atrium. This was also the only time I had a reason to write the word "perspicacity". I just hope I don't become the official obituary writer. Eh, unless I cash more money, that is. If so, then Nondescript Apparition Victim, you're next!
One more thing, streaking? Do you do that during Christmas too?
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But Professor Moody never mentioned that in Defence lessons!
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It's so hard to get bloodstains out.
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I'm just being sympathetic.
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My brother-in-law frequents th'Ministry on business, and I only want to be sure that it wasn't he who was killed in such a manner.
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