The depiction of me holding a pint of whiskey, or tequila, or whatever in thunder that is, is bad enough, but I would never wear such an atrocious shade of lavender.

S.

Yes, yes, I know. Nothing more tedious than a visit to the Colonies! I am staying with that pathetic failed Slytherin, Walnut. The ego that man has! For someone who was tossed from Hogwarts without so much as a backward glance, he thinks rather highly of himself.

Your winsome smile and ever-waving hand may charm the other professors at Hogwarts, but not I. If I remember correctly, I loaned you my 1858 G.W. Septimus Piesse's Chymical, Natural, and Physical Magic on the understanding you would return it to me in its native state. Instead, I find that it reeks of owl urine and polyjuice potion. I don't know ( Read more... )

Dear Mr. Weasley,

Was there, perchance, some problem with my enunciation? I think not. I asked you to prepare a 1000-word essay on the postmodernist deconstruction of Merovingian flatulence counterspells, not a 221-word essay entitled, "My Rat Scabbers is way Kewl [sic ( Read more... )