(no subject)
I was contentedly walking down a hallway when I was assaulted by the revolting sight of one of my dim-witted peers crying. Naturally, I assumed that it was because I haven't written in my Wiz-journal in eons, due to the oppressive burden of being so incredibly popular amongst the little people, and decided to do a bit of charity work. I'm quite tired from telling whoever this repulsive girl was that she should stop crying and spend her time making wise investments in butobur pus instead, but I expect that, being Draco Malfoy, I will be able to pen a simple magnum opus without incident, despite my incredible fatigue.
This morning I awoke to Theodore wheezing loudly in his sleep, and was unable to return to a peaceful slumber after that. I decided to have an early breakfast, and found the pancakes served to be quite inferior. I was forced to overturn the plate and stalk out of the Great Hall, unfed. The victuals at this institution are certainly below the standard which the Ministry has set for restaurants as well as other such businesses, and I fully intend to file a report the moment that I find the spare time. My pancake was cold. It tasted like Magenta's baking. I found myself filled with the fear that I was going to regurgitate, but fortunately I have more self-control than some unrefined people do, such as the Weasel. Does everyone remember the time that he failed to perform a simple slug curse in second year, and ended up vomiting the creatures in a perpetual blanket about the school grounds? I suppose failure is what comes with being ugly and baseborn, but I wouldn't really know.
I'm quite weary of hearing about how overworked you imbeciles are only due to the simplistic preparations for N.E.W.Ts. I've not had a single issue with completing all of my assignments, although these are in addition to my being the best Seeker and Quidditch Captain that Hogwarts has ever had, and dealing with the consistently mountainous piles of fanmail that flood my half of the dormitories. I'm contemplating purchasing a bell so that I might simply ring it when I am in need of Crabbe and Goyle's assistance, and they may tail me rather than staying so disgustingly nearby. Goyle smells terrible, and rationally fear that it is toxic, and corroding my already sensitive nasal cavity.
Ravenclaws apparently think that because a hat deemed them clever, they can cheat without my noticing. I will have my vengeance, and it will be when they least expect it.
This morning I awoke to Theodore wheezing loudly in his sleep, and was unable to return to a peaceful slumber after that. I decided to have an early breakfast, and found the pancakes served to be quite inferior. I was forced to overturn the plate and stalk out of the Great Hall, unfed. The victuals at this institution are certainly below the standard which the Ministry has set for restaurants as well as other such businesses, and I fully intend to file a report the moment that I find the spare time. My pancake was cold. It tasted like Magenta's baking. I found myself filled with the fear that I was going to regurgitate, but fortunately I have more self-control than some unrefined people do, such as the Weasel. Does everyone remember the time that he failed to perform a simple slug curse in second year, and ended up vomiting the creatures in a perpetual blanket about the school grounds? I suppose failure is what comes with being ugly and baseborn, but I wouldn't really know.
I'm quite weary of hearing about how overworked you imbeciles are only due to the simplistic preparations for N.E.W.Ts. I've not had a single issue with completing all of my assignments, although these are in addition to my being the best Seeker and Quidditch Captain that Hogwarts has ever had, and dealing with the consistently mountainous piles of fanmail that flood my half of the dormitories. I'm contemplating purchasing a bell so that I might simply ring it when I am in need of Crabbe and Goyle's assistance, and they may tail me rather than staying so disgustingly nearby. Goyle smells terrible, and rationally fear that it is toxic, and corroding my already sensitive nasal cavity.
Ravenclaws apparently think that because a hat deemed them clever, they can cheat without my noticing. I will have my vengeance, and it will be when they least expect it.