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Post by prissy on Jul 10, 2009 21:36:51 GMT -5
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Post by prissy on Jan 30, 2010 10:23:59 GMT -5
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Entry: The first.Date: Twelfth of June, 1977. Mood: Bored.
- - - - - - - - -[/center]  Papa bought me a new diary to celebrate my outstanding final marks for last term. I'm not sure how much I like it. I'm so used to the other one that this is a bit strange getting used to. But it's nice all the same; has some little flourishes on the outside and some round tassels underneath. The color, I think, is a bit of an overwhelming chartreuse, but it could be worse. Papa and I have always differed on our taste in color. At any rate, I haven't really been doing much this summer; we only got released a few days ago and I have yet to actually plan anything worth doing. I do so despise summer for that reason – it's boring and unexciting and much too hot. I'd take the frigid cold of winter over the unbearable heat of summer any day. Well, not that I really have a choice, anyway. I can't go outside because I've just been put under room-arrest again for a week because of what I called my mother at the dinner table. Oh well. It was worth it. And I think that – strange. My owl just flew in with a letter. Who would write to me? Narcissa, or Kitty maybe? Well, I won't mind the solace. Be back in a bit.
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Post by prissy on Jan 30, 2010 10:33:49 GMT -5
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Entry: The second.Date: Thirteenth of June, 1977. Mood: Nonplussed.
- - - - - - - - -[/center] It was Nikolas. You know, the boy I accidentally saved with an Unforgivable Curse last year at the Hogsmeade attack. The Unforgivable Curse that I used against his best friend, that is. The little blond sop. Glad I haven't heard from her lately. Anyway, the point of the matter is that Nikolas sent me an owl last night and I'm replying this morning and I can't believe I actually am replying because that's silly and foolish. He's a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin and our races, simply put, should not mix. He runs with the Mudblood-loving crowd and I run with the Mudblood-killing crowd and I'm confused as to why he's so interested in speaking with me when he knows full well that I am capable of using an Unforgivable Curse and when he also knows full well that my best friend is Narcissa Black and that, really, he doesn't want to get into her posse. And yet for some reason he likes me, or so he says. One really can never tell with boys these days. At any rate we are now pleasantly discussing the weather and the seasons and it is unbelievably awkward and I wish he would just get to his point and spare me the formalities. But Gryffindors never do that, do they?
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