Beating swords into ploughshares? I'm your man.
As I suspected, I am a horse. Not an Arabian stallion, nor a Derby winner: I am a sodding farm horse. Well, Da always did say I was sturdy . . .
The last things I recall before the horsemind completely took over is Professor Black patting my neck to calm me (which I was, I was very calm) and turning to Dean, who had this strange look in his eyes. Suddenly my mind was all running and grass, so I walked over to the window, stuck my head out and looked at the sunny fields for a while. Then I came back into the room and watched the smaller animals running about. I'm glad they kept Harry out of my sight; that would have been upsetting.
Hannah certainly had an extreme reaction. I think it was just all the stress from her house situation. Did her good to be someone-or rather, something-else for a bit. Poor Mandy Brocklehurst is having some house troubles as well, so she came to sit with Hannah, Dean and me. Sweet girl. Bit shy. Very shocking that she was a bat.
Dean refuses to tell me what he was. Damned irritating.
The event under the stairs was fine if you were looking for a kaffee klatsch but a complete failure at storming any barricades. Of course, an organized demonstration against conformity is a bit of an oxymoron. When Gran got all the local ladies to protest the quality of the brown bread in the sandwiches in our village pub she was more successful. If Ron hadn't shown up in his usual hotheaded manner, the entire thing would have passed without incident. (Mate, some advice: Pick your battles.) We sensible types wisely steered clear of the ensuing fight-if you can call it that. Why Dean puts up with that poseur I can't comprehend, but one cannot always have things one's own way in a relationship, I suppose.
The Dracology lecture was excellent. Charlie Weasley was here, and while some people certainly found him attractive, I must admit that redheads don't do it for me. Brunettes, on the other hand, get me every time. Though, I'm sticking to the one I've got.
The last things I recall before the horsemind completely took over is Professor Black patting my neck to calm me (which I was, I was very calm) and turning to Dean, who had this strange look in his eyes. Suddenly my mind was all running and grass, so I walked over to the window, stuck my head out and looked at the sunny fields for a while. Then I came back into the room and watched the smaller animals running about. I'm glad they kept Harry out of my sight; that would have been upsetting.
Hannah certainly had an extreme reaction. I think it was just all the stress from her house situation. Did her good to be someone-or rather, something-else for a bit. Poor Mandy Brocklehurst is having some house troubles as well, so she came to sit with Hannah, Dean and me. Sweet girl. Bit shy. Very shocking that she was a bat.
Dean refuses to tell me what he was. Damned irritating.
The event under the stairs was fine if you were looking for a kaffee klatsch but a complete failure at storming any barricades. Of course, an organized demonstration against conformity is a bit of an oxymoron. When Gran got all the local ladies to protest the quality of the brown bread in the sandwiches in our village pub she was more successful. If Ron hadn't shown up in his usual hotheaded manner, the entire thing would have passed without incident. (Mate, some advice: Pick your battles.) We sensible types wisely steered clear of the ensuing fight-if you can call it that. Why Dean puts up with that poseur I can't comprehend, but one cannot always have things one's own way in a relationship, I suppose.
The Dracology lecture was excellent. Charlie Weasley was here, and while some people certainly found him attractive, I must admit that redheads don't do it for me. Brunettes, on the other hand, get me every time. Though, I'm sticking to the one I've got.