Where do we go from here? So many years of building, and building, and building. Fucking excuses, that's all I've got. Why bother lying? Not like you'll believe me anyway.

Congrats on Quidditch, Smith. Huh, how can you celebrate?

How can you be coherent at a time like this?

Private to 6th year Slytherins: I've never felt so cold before. ( Read more... )

One-eighty to ninety. Pansy, I DID promise that it wouldn't disappoint. Congratulations, Slytherins, though it wasn't much of a contest, I must say. Catching the snitch was, as always, exhilirating. The next match should be unsurprisingly not worth watching.

Private to Slytherins and Death Eaters: Won't you enjoy this. Latest news: those ( Read more... )

Really brilliant. So now I'm back at school. Feeling swell. Kicking some firsties. Not paying attention in class. Enjoying talking in short sentences.

I hope your families are well. But you aren't going to believe me, anyway. It's war, as Millicent put it, and shit tragedies will take their toll. I'm working on my eloquence, Professor ( Read more... )

What did I just do?

Crabbe, pick up your three sickles any time. Was well worth it, though I've got a headache from the commotion. Bloody hell, good thing I'm leaving tonight.

Honestly, is this game even worth the bother of attending? Adrian, you aren't making us go, are you?

Anyhow, the Ball was quite dull. Not the fault of Pansy at ALL; she was as always an amazing girlfriend. It was just unecessary, this whole idea of Valentine's Day. Still don't understand the cause for so much celebration.

And I'm sure you've ( Read more... )

Hexed against Professors, italics private to Slytherins: I'd call this entry overdue, except unlike most of you half-minded prats, I've got better things to brood over than a Mudblood toy. Life goes along, in any case, dull news overtakes the exciting kind. Speaking of exciting news, Crabbe and Goyle nearly shit their pants over the Smith ( Read more... )

Well. That was quite the eventful Hogsmeade visit. I thought the Quidditch match would be a hard act to follow, but you know, AK-ing the Minister beats out anything, I think. Oh, sorry, I'm being heartless now, how AWFUL and TERRIBLE of me. Awfully terrible. It was ... such a tragic incident. Condolences, and such.

For the spectactular ( Read more... )

What is there to say? Is there anything I can say that won't be wrong, right, or misunderstood? I hear the school muttering "selfish brat" under their breaths wherever I walk. What am I to say, oh no, I've been a GOOD boy. I wrote owls back to my mummy, I listened to my father, I attended all their fancy dinner parties and kept my mouth shut. ( Read more... )

... I think Crabbe and Goyle are trying to send owls to each other. Really quite amusing hearing them sound out each word. I can hear the bloody idiots all the way in the Common Room. I think Crabbe's landed himself a date for the Ball, even. Shouting something terrible about a "dancing with a Gryffinclaw." If so, this Ball might even be worth ( Read more... )

Private to Slytherins and Death Eaters:

A fucking Inter-house Unity Ball. Dumbledore, you've really bested yourself this time. Does anyone find this completely ridiculous? Of course I'll go, HAH. I've got to look formal and prefectly to be a good role model. Maybe I should pull out my anti-Gryffindor pin for such a special occassion. Or that ( Read more... )