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[11 Jul 1978|12:16am] |
SIRIUS.
There's someone's head in the grate shrieking at me every five minutes or so like clockwork. Sometimes they're shrieking about how they don't know where you are, and I don't know either.
But I have a feeling, a fairly certain feeling backed up by years of experience, that you're out doing something fucking stupid, so please stop and come back now.
I don't know if you're even carrying your book anymore, it took me forever to find mine.
There has to be something more useful than this that I can be doing. Planting a fucking victory garden, maybe.
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[14 Feb 1978|11:28pm] |
Today when I was reading in the common room after dinner, a first-year girl with her hair shoved into two clumps on the sides of her head asked me to transfigure her robes white. So after getting her Princess Leia costume in order, I tried to outfit Luke Skywalker and Han Solo (second years) from memory, and worked out some spells that mostly looked like space guns and lightsabres. I negotiated my way out of being Chewbacca because I was a lot taller than them by pointing out that I was also older than them and could be Obi-Wan, so I got to wear my hood all night.
Muggles have the most bloody brilliant films. I saw Star Wars in London with my parents at some point, and hadn't really thought about it since, but it was sort of fun to try and reenact it. I don't remember the part in the original film where Princess Leia and Han Solo were also Luke's aunt and uncle, and we got held up awhile because they wanted the alien bar to be playing some ABBA song, but I thought "European Son" was a lot more alien-sounding. But I was outvoted. Also not in the film was the bit where Princess Leia was an eleven year old go-go dancer at the alien bar.
We're going to have to continue on Thursday, I guess, because tomorrow is that wizarding whatever festival, which I forsee myself being too worn out with Jedi duties to go to. But we need someone to play Darth Vader and have a duel-to-the-death with me when we resume. They're insisting that Vader be taller than I am, so Sirius, you'll need a really threatening helmet. And practise breathing heavily.
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[30 Jan 1978|08:31pm] |
Does anyone who's in Advanced Care of Magical Creatures or something know how the fuck to train owls? I didn't know they needed to be trained, but our owlets are learning to fly and they're a bloody nightmare. I figured we'd hand them out to people when they got old enough and they'd deliver mail. So far, they aren't delivering mail. In fact, they shredded Pete's Prophet the other morning and I only just stopped them from getting to a letter from some fourth year's mum. I had to go fish Churchill out of the girls' showers on Saturday, and Sirius wouldn't reverse the hex that Angela Dalton put on my hair for half an hour. I took them all to class today, to try and stop them from going anywhere else forbidden or destroying things, and Professor Sappington apparently thought they were impeding my posture, and tried to straighten my shoulders and tilt my chin up or something but that slid Étoile off my head, and they're all pretty crap flyers, so he sort of landed on the floor and then he was all ruffled and annoyed and I don't know where he's gone to, but if it involves the girls' showers again, I'm not going. Alice, it's your turn to owl-sit them tomorrow.
If they bother any of you, I'm sorry. If you see them, give them a shove toward the owlery. Maybe they'll learn to be post owls when they can fly properly. I hope.
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[16 Dec 1977|12:20am] |
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mood |
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 relieved |
] |
Hols, wonderful bloody lovely hols, in less than a day, if I can manage not to fall into some kind of coma first. We've all been up late studying (fucking NEWT classes) and I can't sleep anyway. Maybe I'll sleep on the train. Maybe I'll be able to sleep while I'm home. Maybe I'll collapse halfway through writing this and get ink on my face. There should be a betting pool about this.
Sirius. You're probably staying at James's with him, but mum has extended her usual invitation (to both of you) to stay at our house for however long you want. She's doing up the big Christmas dinner that we only have the three of us to eat, so if you're not here, she'll send parcels of it along to you. I don't think she understands that James has got house elves to cook. Or she understands, she's just mistrustful of house elf cooking becuase it's not HER cooking and she's a bit barmy that way.
Alice, I've been so wrapped up in all this bollocks with exams that I didn't think until now about what we'll do with the owlets? I don't suppose we can take them with us? Or can we? We could ask Kettleburn, I guess, and if we can't take them, I'm sure he or Hagrid will check on them while we're away. I'd sort of like to have them at the house. Mum would think they're sweet. She could knit them little hats.
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[18 Nov 1977|06:30pm] |
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mood |
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excited |
] |
If you couldn't tell from Alice's post yesterday, most of Bea and Tim's owlets have hatched, two yesterday (they're called Cara and Churchill), and one today (he's called Étoile), they're fluffy and scary looking and Bea and Tim are proud doting parents. Or they would be if they had more facial expressions.
There's probably still a warning out about going too near the nest, they're more protective about it now, since the owlets are hatched. They wouldn't even let Kettleburn come close to the nest, but he said that from a few feet away, the owlets look all right, and the last one should hatch in the next couple days. Kingsley, since you're slated to have one, once they're all hatched and Bea and Tim have calmed down, you'll have to come see them and pick one.
But that's enough about owls, because it's Sirius's birthday and I've got to see if I can make him share the cake my mum sent him. And I think he banned me from talking about owls weeks ago, anyway.
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[12 Nov 1977|01:46am] |
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mood |
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 groggy |
] |
Just woke up still dressed with my transfigurations text digging into my ribs. I don't even know when I fell asleep but the reading must have been bloody boring, and it's not even current reading, it's catch up reading because I missed a class but for some reason people were nice to me and brought me up tea. That first year girl who I showed the way to the owlery even brought me up a melty chocolate frog but I let Pete have it. I think everyone else in here is sleeping, which makes sense since it's nearly two in the morning and maybe I'll just sleep in my clothes since I don't really want to get out of bed.
Bea and Tim are doing well, only a couple more people complained about Tim attacking them. Kettleburn said the owlets will probably hatch at the end of this month. No idea what we're going to do with them really except that I want my parents to have one and I think Kingsley wanted one as well. Which is half of them taken care of, actually.
I don't know why I'm writing this when I could be shoving all the books off the bed and going to sleep. That's what I'm going to do.
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[24 Oct 1977|11:34pm] |
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mood |
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shocked |
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All right. Alice and I have an announcement to make. I feel like we should be sending out little printed cards, but that would take too long, and neither of us know calligraphy, so this will have to be good enough.
Our owls are having baby owls.
I hadn't been to the owlery for a couple weeks, but today I had a letter to send home, so I went up there after dinner, and Bea was sitting in that same alcove, on top of a pile of leaves and small twigs and thread that looked a lot like bits of a Hufflepuff scarf. I tried to get her to move so I could tie the letter onto her leg, and she was being really unhelpful, just sort of glaring at me, and then she shifted over to the side and there were eggs in the nest. We got to count them later, and there are four.
I ran to go find Alice and we went to just sort of stare at Bea--and Tim, who arrived after awhile with a vole or something for her--in shock. "Her" being Bea, not Alice.
The real reason I'm writingth is up on these things (because I don't think any of you are really concerned about baby owls) is because as we were leaving the owlery, a Ravenclaw who looked to be about a third year told us that Tim had tried to land on his shoulder and peck at him for going over to that corner of the owlery. So Bea is the barn owl in the alcove in the back right, and you should probably keep away in case she or Tim decides you're a threat to the eggs.
Tomorrow, more owl research, but this time about the consequences of owl sex instead of the owl sex itself. Someone should have made Bea and Tim do that stupid floursack project.
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[07 Oct 1977|11:41pm] |
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mood |
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 lazy |
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I was trying to read in the common room after dinner, and a first-year girl sort of just climbed into my lap, which is odd, since I was sure the first years think I'm a vampire. Sirius, you've been telling them I'm not a vampire, haven't you? You're ruining all my hard work.
She wanted me to take her to the owlery because she was afraid she'd get lost, but I still have no idea why this request seemed to require her sitting in my lap first.
Anyway, I'm sort of writing all of this up for you, Alice, because one of your roommates said you were asleep and I know I'll forget about it if I don't write it down. We got up there and she was trying to get her letter sent and everything, so I went to go pet Bea, and she and Tim were all nestled together in an alcove sort of preening each other's feathers. It looked like a Valentine's card, but those usually have cheery little songbirds instead of owls.
And it's finally Friday. I'm going to sleep through breakfast all weekend. Possibly lunch as well.
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[13 Sep 1977|09:58pm] |
Back for nearly two weeks and I'm still not used to getting up in the actual morning yet. Hogwarts should have more night classes. Astronomy is the only class I actually feel awake for.
I fell asleep on a couch in the common room this afternoon and a second-year girl woke me up for dinner. By standing two feet away from me, stretching her arm out, and prodding at my shoulder with the corner of her Charms book. I can't decide if it's because second-year girls think boys are disgusting or because they think I'm a vampire. The fangs Alice transfigured for me were pretty convincing, I thought. Anyway at least I got woken up in time for dinner. For which I had a huge vat of blood, harvested from the veins of first and second years who shriek at levels only dogs should be able to hear. Consider yourselves warned.
It's really bothering me that I can't remember this. Those spells, the sort that are on Hogwarts that distract people so they don't get too close and look at it? What are they called?
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[24 Aug 1977|10:26pm] |
Sirius, are you reading this?
I'd have owled you but I'm not sending Bea out because it's hot and she's sleeping under the coffee table.
My mum must have talked to everyone in the village until she found someone who was getting rid of a mattress, but she's found you one and the floo people couldn't arrange anything for us before ten, so my dad and I are going to floo in with it soon, if that's alright. We've got a rather large trifle, too. Should last you the rest of the week, at least. I think my mum likes you better than she likes my dad and I, because she didn't make us any trifle.
And I'm a prefect again. Bugger.
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[12 Aug 1977|01:42am] |
I've got some kind of weird headache, spent most of the day sleeping, and now I'm more awake. Which is perfect since it's half past one in the morning and it's a stupid time to finally be awake. It's been pointed out that all I ever do is fucking lie here, which is mostly true.
I've always gotten sick a lot, and when I was little, my mum used to sit on a chair next to my bed and sing to me so I'd fall asleep or just calm down or something. I guess she figures I'm too old for that now, but she remembered about the music and had my dad drag the record player up here, so it's on the floor and she put one of her sort of soft, quiet records on and petted my hair and went to go to sleep, and I've just left the record on. Right now there's this song on that I think is about Christmas, because there's something about reindeer, but also rivers and being selfish and sad. Which are all-year-round things, really.
Alice, I just remembered that you wanted me to owl McGonagall about getting us a record player for the common room, but I really don't think she'll do it. Maybe someone will just bring theirs down there again, like last year. Or someone should at least ask Ted (or Benjy) how he charmed his to work in Hogwarts, since Muggle stuff like that usually doesn't. We've got to have a way besides the WWN to have music around though.
And if Sirius shows up at any of your houses, let me know, would you? He left without a forwarding address and my mum's worried.
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[17 Jul 1977|09:33pm] |
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mood |
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not in school. |
] |
Once when I was little and whining because it was raining or something, my mum told me that only boring people get bored. I still have no idea if this is true or not. Because I don't really get bored anymore, no matter how rainy it gets. I can always just read or sleep or something. But according to Sirius, I'm still boring. I think the only thing to be learned from all of this is that the people who make up proverbs don't actually think very hard. I can't believe I just took up half a page writing that.
Summer's been nice and uneventful so far, I went to London with my parents the other day, I tried to convince them we should to to the cinema because I haven't been in years, but they weren't listening. My mum was on errands to buy spices in bulk so she was sort of in one-track-mind mode all day. Sirius was here for a bit. And Sirius, by the way, you left your exploding snap cards here. I'd owl them back to you but I think you and James must have hexed them, because they've started three small fires so far, and I don't want Beatrice to be set on fire in midair with them. You can take them back yourself next time you're here, I guess.
I'm glad I'm not at that Auror Thing, because it seems to be driving everyone sort of crazy, and the Auror who's running it is more than a bit mad, I think, even if he did devise a really specific and efficient-sounding set of rules for a duel.
Speaking of Moody and duels, Alice, Em, I hope you're alright and maybe things have settled down. I may have to send the next batch of biscuits addressed to Kingsley or Frank, it might be safer.
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[13 Jun 1977|06:24pm] |
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mood |
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 precognitive. |
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Two days really isn't a long enough for a weekend. Especially when, for one reason or another, you don't get any more sleep on the weekend than you do during the week. I've never taken Divination, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and forsee myself taking a couple days off from class, because I haven't got exams.
It's really sort of nice to be in this year between the sets of enormous, important exams. After last year's OWL frenzy at the end of term, it feels sort of wrong to be not running around revising in a panic. Not that 'wrong' is a bad thing, in this case.
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[19 May 1977|11:26pm] |
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mood |
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tired |
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I've got to get "sleeping all day is not a good idea" tattooed on my forehead backward or something, so I'll see it all the time and remember about it. If I'm not in class for more than two days, I become nocturnal, although I'm not feeling too nocturnal at the moment. More like "close to collapse," really.
I think it's time for those vampire rumours again, though. Clearly my only being around at night for the past few days points to their being true! And if I get the first years to really believe it now, they'll pass on their intimidation to next year's first years, and they'll all be easier to deal with.
Iris, it was nice of you to ask after me, so thanks. I'm feeling much better now. Maybe we could go to the Quidditch game with Marlene and Peter again?
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[05 May 1977|12:42am] |
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mood |
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 rushed |
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The professors were all really good about giving me extended deadlines about the work I missed (staying in the hospital wing and sleeping seemed like a really good idea at the time).
Obviously, I'm not the sort of person who's cut out to make major decisions. Or any decisions.
I have no idea what I've been doing for the past couple weeks, but it hasn't been schoolwork. I should get to that, now. At one in the morning. If I thought I stood a chance of getting my extended deadlines extended again, I would be seeing about it.
Does anyone have nice, comprehensible charms notes? I think Peter and I could both use them, his are covered in jam or something and I really should have been asking this earlier, since the essay that I (we? Peter, do you need them, too? Or can you read around the jam? I'm too tired to be arsed to try, at the moment.) need the notes for is due on Friday.
Congratulations to Ravenclaw about the Quidditch cup, by the way. It was one of the more interesting games I've ever been to.
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[29 Mar 1977|10:10pm] |
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mood |
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 curious |
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music |
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some song that seems to be mainly about leather? |
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People have always got Muggle music on in the common room lately, and some of it's really pretty good. I've just finished some reading for Transfiguration, and the fire's dying down so everything's sort of flickery and orange, and I've no idea what band this is or anything, but there's this sort of slow song with a really good rhythm on, and I caught lyrics about being able to sleep for a thousand years, at some point, which sounds nice.
The song's interesting, though, it sort of makes everything seem slower, which sounds really stupid, now that I'm looking at it on the page instead of just thinking it.
Possibly I'm just tired.
There seems to be some confusion about my being some sort of shellfish? I'm not, really. I don't even like shellfish.
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[21 Mar 1977|05:19pm] |
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mood |
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 drained |
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I've been sick and haven't been to class since Thursday, and for some reason i kept sleeping from odd hours of the morning until odd hours of the afternoon, and I think I'm going to collapse soon after having to get up in the morning today. Someone apparently told the first years that the reason I wasn't around until afternoon all weekend is that I'm a vampire. (I'm sure that Sirius and James know nothing about this.) I didn't discourage them, it might be useful to have them think so. Next time they're playing Exploding Snap past midnight, I'm going to try sort of baring my teeth at them and hissing, maybe.
The fire's burning down in here, so someone's cat who was asleep on the hearth has decided to sit on my lap instead. It's keeping my legs warm, and my legs are probably keeping it warm, or it wouldn't be here. This will be a nice arrangement until I get up and go to dinner.
Oh, right. Sirius, I keep forgetting to ask you about this. My mum wants to know what you'd like for dinner while you're staying with us at Easter, I tried to tell her you'll eat anything, but she seems sure you have some sort of favourite meal she can make. And (since I can see your response from a mile away, in the fog, possibly while blindfolded) since she is clearly driven to the point of delirium with her love for you, if you don't come up with something she'll probably try to serve us all champagne and oysters and chocolate dipped strawberries, and oysters are really, really repulsive, so think of something, would you?
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[18 Feb 1977|04:46pm] |
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mood |
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lazy |
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Everyone's doing this "Masque Aftermath" kind of thing, but I got sick and didn't go, so I've really got nothing to say. From what I've heard, I'm probably glad I wasn't there.
I should be trying to catch up on homework, but it's Friday and that seems against the rules, somehow. A fourth year girl asked me for help with her Muggle Studies homework the other day, and I couldn't make heads or tails of it. She had a sheet of questions to do about some poem full of complete nonsense. Jabber-something-or-other. I hope Egg isn't thinking of assigning the rest of us nonsense (or poetry) to read as well.
Benjy, I had lots of time to read while I wasn't in class, and I finished that Nine Stories book, it's really brilliant. If you want to talk about it sometime, let me know.
I found my copy of Peter Pan the other day, it was in the common room. Covered with glitter, which is confusing.
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[10 Feb 1977|10:00pm] |
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mood |
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cold |
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Apparently we're having a Masque. I hope they have really nice biscuits. Maybe appropriately heart-shaped, pink icing on, that kind of thing. They'd at least make nice scenery for those of us who plan on loitering around the punch bowl all night.
It's still BLOODY FREEZING in the castle. I'm going to owl my mum and ask her to knit me more sweaters. Or maybe I should start some kind of petition for Dumbledore about better heating charms. Aren't stone buildings supposed to be well-insulated? Is that negated by having lots of (terribly draughty) windows?
I can't feel my fingertips, I'm going to stop writing this now.
But one last thing. Has anyone seen my copy of Peter Pan? I can't find it anywhere, I'm beginning to think it's been stolen or something.
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[21 Jan 1977|01:27am] |
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mood |
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cold |
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Why is it so late? I missed Monday's classes because I had a cold (which is not surprising, as it's just about as frigid inside the castle as it is outside. If anyone wants to volunteer to teach me some nice, effective warming charms, I'd be really grateful. I'll do you up stacks of toast or something, made to order with butter-or-jam, even.) Anyway, I missed classes and I'm still trying to catch up on all the work that I missed, plus everything from last week that I didn't do because I was sleeping all weekend and now it's after one in the morning and I shouldn't be awake.
But I am. Obviously.
In the future, I should remember that getting to bed earlier means being able to steal duvets from James and Sirius because they're not in the room yet.
Six more inches on my Charms essay and I'm going to bed. At least it's technically Friday now.
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