| fünfzehn; friday, october 17th, 1997 |
[25 Jan 2008|04:59am] |
I am going to kill my room-mates, slowly and painfully and I am going to enjoy every bloody minute of it. I can't find my Arithmancy notes and I know one of you took them, misplaced them and now I reckon they must be buried somewhere in that mess you like to call your side of the room. Either way, I don't care, though I'm extremely concerned about whatever it is that's growing at the foot of your bed, Brocklehurst, but I would really like my notes back. Now. And new room-mates, naturally.
I don't know what it says about me, but even the boys' rooms are tidier than this. It's disgusting! This is the kind of things people should get detention for, not petty things like hexing Harper for being a prat.
So. Notes. Now. Thank you.
( HEXED PRIVATE TO KATHERINE )
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