fünfzehn; friday, october 17th, 1997
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.
[ PRIVATE TO KATHERINE ]Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, my mother decides to owl me the great news that she will be gracing us with her presence during the Halloween Ball. What does the
Board of Governors even have to do at a bloody ball?
Ugh, I don't want her
here, Katherine.
[ /PRIVATE ]
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