MARLENE MCKINNON, 3 October, 1969
Been back at school for a month now, and this is the first time I've had a chance to write. It's been MENTAL. Utterly MENTAL. I've got Quidditch Practice three times a week now (the Captain is a NUTTER). Matches start soon. In the bloody pouring rain and the sleet. NEVER come to SCOTLAND, Lo. Your hair'll never take it!!! On top of Quidditch, I've got lessons -- ask me, mate you're fucking sensible going to work as a nurse, no A Levels. It's too much like bloody hard work, if you ask me. I'm taking History of Magic, which is EXACTLY what it fucking sounds like, Herbology which is, like, plants...Care of Magical Creatures (I've got an owl of my own, called Astel!) but I've also got a Glumbumble to keep alive this semester...looks like a centipeded, the nettles are MURDER on my hands and I keep bursting into tears for no bloody reason)...and Defence Against the Dark Arts which is like...there's bad magic and good magic and you have to learn how to keep yourself safe, dontcha, because you don't want to...you know...
Yeah.
Also, I have a BOYFRIEND...honest to god. ME. Remember that bloke who came to stay with me last summer? Ted? You remember Ted. Me and Ted. He's gorgeous, Lo. I can't quite get over my luck. He's a virgin, Lo. Does the fact that I'm DYING to fuck him make me a terrible slut, do you think? He's been wierd all week. Either he's up to something or he thinks he's James Bond. I'm not sure. I'm worried but I trust him, so it's okay!
Right. Okay. I've gotta go. Me and Ted have got homework to do.
Write soon! I miss you, you mess, you.
