(no subject)
We've just returned from Cannes this morning. Father, Mother, and I took the Floo Network over there to My Grandmother's manor on Boxing Day. Mother and Grandmother are quite alike, as both like to make sure that I have absolutely everything that I want, and I can hardly blame them.
Father, of course, spent Boxing Day fox hunting. Father says that Muggles used to fox hunt on Boxing Day as well, but having absolutely no sense for tradition, they've decided to put the lives of foxes as their highest priority. Can you imagine having such a pathetic life that you'd actually care about the lives of foxes? Well, really, as they're Muggles, I can.
Father had the foxes and hounds sent in specially, of course, and I'm quite certain he does a better job at fox hunting than Muggles ever did, as he has a wand. Usually he just lets the hounds run around trying to sniff out the foxes, but he casts charms on the hounds to make them lose their sense of smell. It's rather funny to watch them trying to sniff things out only to discover they can't smell anything. They always look on the verge of absolute suicide.
While Father went fox hunting, Mother, Grandmother, and I spent the day in Cannes shopping for more Christmas gifts. Grandmother thinks I should have gone to Beauxbatons, as she knows all about the atrocities at Hogwarts, so she always makes quite sure to see to it that I get everything I need. I had her buy me a jar of sixteen live black widows, which I sent to Weasley as a late Christmas gift. I do hope he liked it enough to make him drop the jar in delight. The glass is quite delicate.
Grandmother's servants are absolutely atrocious. Grandmother refuses to use house-elves, so they're all witches and wizards, and all of them speak French. Of course, I can't be bothered to learn French, as I've no desire to sound like I'm speaking behind a mouthful of phlegm all the time. I'll leave that up to Longbottom. Instead, one would think a good servant would learn to speak English so they could serve me, but apparently that isn't among their top priorities. Their priorities seem to include snogging in My Grandmother's trophy room. I caught two of them in there, and naturally I reported them to Grandmother immediately. Of course, they had to be punished, and the witch actually cried when Grandmother fired her. She's a Halfblood. She should feel privileged to have worked for Grandmother at all.
Millicent sent me the tackiest Christmas gift she could have thought of, which I received in Cannes, so I had Grandmother dispose of it. She does have a sense of humour, though I think she was rather annoyed when the Muggle stepped on the hem of her robes. Muggles are absolutely uncouth. That has been my experience, and if you can't trust my experience, whose can you trust?
We're heading off to see Father's parents' manor in a day or two and have to attend an event at the Macnairs' on New Year's Eve, so I'll be quite busy over the holidays. I'm dreadfully relieved that I'll never have to spend a Christmas at Hogwarts. God, you'd have to feel like the stupidest person alive, wouldn't you?
Father, of course, spent Boxing Day fox hunting. Father says that Muggles used to fox hunt on Boxing Day as well, but having absolutely no sense for tradition, they've decided to put the lives of foxes as their highest priority. Can you imagine having such a pathetic life that you'd actually care about the lives of foxes? Well, really, as they're Muggles, I can.
Father had the foxes and hounds sent in specially, of course, and I'm quite certain he does a better job at fox hunting than Muggles ever did, as he has a wand. Usually he just lets the hounds run around trying to sniff out the foxes, but he casts charms on the hounds to make them lose their sense of smell. It's rather funny to watch them trying to sniff things out only to discover they can't smell anything. They always look on the verge of absolute suicide.
While Father went fox hunting, Mother, Grandmother, and I spent the day in Cannes shopping for more Christmas gifts. Grandmother thinks I should have gone to Beauxbatons, as she knows all about the atrocities at Hogwarts, so she always makes quite sure to see to it that I get everything I need. I had her buy me a jar of sixteen live black widows, which I sent to Weasley as a late Christmas gift. I do hope he liked it enough to make him drop the jar in delight. The glass is quite delicate.
Grandmother's servants are absolutely atrocious. Grandmother refuses to use house-elves, so they're all witches and wizards, and all of them speak French. Of course, I can't be bothered to learn French, as I've no desire to sound like I'm speaking behind a mouthful of phlegm all the time. I'll leave that up to Longbottom. Instead, one would think a good servant would learn to speak English so they could serve me, but apparently that isn't among their top priorities. Their priorities seem to include snogging in My Grandmother's trophy room. I caught two of them in there, and naturally I reported them to Grandmother immediately. Of course, they had to be punished, and the witch actually cried when Grandmother fired her. She's a Halfblood. She should feel privileged to have worked for Grandmother at all.
Millicent sent me the tackiest Christmas gift she could have thought of, which I received in Cannes, so I had Grandmother dispose of it. She does have a sense of humour, though I think she was rather annoyed when the Muggle stepped on the hem of her robes. Muggles are absolutely uncouth. That has been my experience, and if you can't trust my experience, whose can you trust?
We're heading off to see Father's parents' manor in a day or two and have to attend an event at the Macnairs' on New Year's Eve, so I'll be quite busy over the holidays. I'm dreadfully relieved that I'll never have to spend a Christmas at Hogwarts. God, you'd have to feel like the stupidest person alive, wouldn't you?