Honestly....
I suppose that when you're a Malfoy, everyone wishes to grasp whatever glory they can at your expense, however fleeting their glory may be. First there was my meeting with Molly Weasley. Quite interesting. She was of the opinion that Ron's behavior was, indeed, quite unacceptable, but defended the boy by saying he was provoked! I've always thought a sign of maturity is being able to rise above petty provocations--witness young Draco's grace when the slings and arrows of those less fortunate are directed his way--and, it is sad to say, immaturity must be a genetic trait among Weasleys. First her daughter cavorts about with the Dark Lord, opens the Chamber of Secrets, and no one thinks twice about this. Surely anyone can see what a danger that girl is to the students and staff of Hogwarts, if she allows herself to be so easily led by a book. If, that is, she was indeed acting on Tom Riddle's behalf. However, I've seen no evidence that she, or any Weasley, is a Parselmouth. Nevertheless, Molly did concede to having a serious discussion with Ronald. Perhaps she can drill some concepts of daily hygiene into his head while at it, but I, for one, am not holding my breath.
The Halloween Gala was most tiresome. It was cursed from the start. My costume was tight, the cape was lined in blue, not red, they delivered a Puffskein (that rental company is proof that one can indeed be a brain donor and still walk about), and then the dragon. We'll have to have all the carpets replaced. Narcissa must have been quite beside herself, for she only drank four martinis. The poor dear was distracted, I suppose. Sirius and I had a few words. He had the audacity to suggest Severus sought friendship elsewhere due to several irredeemable character flaws of mine. Then the man swings at me. The plastics mediwizard assured me that no lasting damage was done to my face.
The less said about the Gala, the better, although Severus came as a woman, befitting his newly emasculated status.
Poor Draco is holding up as well as he can but school life is becoming increasingly unbearable for him. It is not easy to carry the mantle of a Malfoy, my son, but it must be borne. Remember, we Malfoys are here to set example to those not fortunate enough to be purebloods.
I sent Narcissa off to Cairo for the autumn fashion shows. She's had a hard time of it, and I thought a few new gowns would help erase the trauma of the past month. She's now bringing up the "Fake Lucius" bit again. I can only assume we're low on vodka and have ordered more for her. She came by my rooms before she left for Cairo, but I confess: my trousers have been a bit tight lately and I was exercising. She, not having had a martini that day, leapt to conclusions. It appears that the werewolf has not been able to find a suitable mate, however, and has now latched on to her. He's now resorted to buying her gifts. He needs to learn that one cannot buy love or affection. I suggest he look towards Romania for companionship. Besides which, he can't afford Narcissa.
In other news, I took delivery of some superb absinthe earlier this month. I invited Sirius to the Manor, to work out our differences. It went quite well, and we had an enjoyable evening reminiscing. I think it's safe to say we have overcome any misunderstandings we might have harbored where the other was concerned.
The Halloween Gala was most tiresome. It was cursed from the start. My costume was tight, the cape was lined in blue, not red, they delivered a Puffskein (that rental company is proof that one can indeed be a brain donor and still walk about), and then the dragon. We'll have to have all the carpets replaced. Narcissa must have been quite beside herself, for she only drank four martinis. The poor dear was distracted, I suppose. Sirius and I had a few words. He had the audacity to suggest Severus sought friendship elsewhere due to several irredeemable character flaws of mine. Then the man swings at me. The plastics mediwizard assured me that no lasting damage was done to my face.
The less said about the Gala, the better, although Severus came as a woman, befitting his newly emasculated status.
Poor Draco is holding up as well as he can but school life is becoming increasingly unbearable for him. It is not easy to carry the mantle of a Malfoy, my son, but it must be borne. Remember, we Malfoys are here to set example to those not fortunate enough to be purebloods.
I sent Narcissa off to Cairo for the autumn fashion shows. She's had a hard time of it, and I thought a few new gowns would help erase the trauma of the past month. She's now bringing up the "Fake Lucius" bit again. I can only assume we're low on vodka and have ordered more for her. She came by my rooms before she left for Cairo, but I confess: my trousers have been a bit tight lately and I was exercising. She, not having had a martini that day, leapt to conclusions. It appears that the werewolf has not been able to find a suitable mate, however, and has now latched on to her. He's now resorted to buying her gifts. He needs to learn that one cannot buy love or affection. I suggest he look towards Romania for companionship. Besides which, he can't afford Narcissa.
In other news, I took delivery of some superb absinthe earlier this month. I invited Sirius to the Manor, to work out our differences. It went quite well, and we had an enjoyable evening reminiscing. I think it's safe to say we have overcome any misunderstandings we might have harbored where the other was concerned.