Praefectus dedecorus
Some things in life do not last. Numbered among them is the contentment that comes from a well-executed diversion. Ah well, as Cabell said, "There is not any memory with less satisfaction than the memory of some temptation we resisted". Better to have fleeting amusement than never engage in anything humourous, and wonder what sort of fun might have been had.
I believe that tomorrow will be quite enjoyable as far as humour goes. Fifth- and sixth- years ought to be possessed of enough spell knowledge to make the fight long and interesting, if not exactly fair. Mister Lockhart the Asinine and Intrepid must not realise that Mister McCormack is a year below him, else I am certain such a chivalrous person as he would not stoop to such a conflict. Is it not wonderful that ruling classes of this castle consist of persons who find it fruitful and rewarding to employ their time in the torment of those younger and (though not, I believe, in this case) less skilled than they? It is truly a monument to the statutes of this school. Well done, Mister Lockhart. I find I have no further words that can express my utter nausea on the subject. And to Mister McCormack the Longanimous, I shall say best of luck.
This morn I received an owl from my sister, which after long contemplation I believe must be the cause of my bitter temper. Once again Emilia finds it necessary to steal moments from my life with her worthless chatter. I am decidedly elated, at this moment more than usual, that the distance between our ages is as great as it is. As she has been a near foreigner to our household for several years it has been my pleasure to look upon her as one would an aunt that everyone tolerates but no one really likes. However she regards me as almost a failure to the family because of my opinion of her, and because of this outlook takes it upon herself to commit, with every shred of feeling she can muster, all her woes over me to parchment. How glad will I be when I can finally sever all ties to her. The sorts of things she sends me in her letters would drive even a Fwooper to madness. I suppose it is in my power to eschew reading them, but they awake an emotion in me that I do not mind at all: disdain. I find that when my mind is in torment by such asininity as is evidenced in her letters, my body, or spirit, or whatever elusive part of our being governs our ability to do magic, is further empowered to the utilisation of such magics as I will not discuss here. It is an exhilarating feeling, this channeling of anger and annoyance into ability and desire for more...
Again I tardily find that I have probably said more than most wish to hear. Infernally calamitous duellers, good luck, and I pray at least one of you winds up in the hospital wing for it wouldn't do to have to bury both duellers. And Miss Evans you can cease looking over your shoulder. I am not possessed of even the information regarding how to begin climbing Gryffindor Tower, much less the knowledge of which windows afford views only Mister Potter the Profoundly Lecherous dreams of descrying.
I believe that tomorrow will be quite enjoyable as far as humour goes. Fifth- and sixth- years ought to be possessed of enough spell knowledge to make the fight long and interesting, if not exactly fair. Mister Lockhart the Asinine and Intrepid must not realise that Mister McCormack is a year below him, else I am certain such a chivalrous person as he would not stoop to such a conflict. Is it not wonderful that ruling classes of this castle consist of persons who find it fruitful and rewarding to employ their time in the torment of those younger and (though not, I believe, in this case) less skilled than they? It is truly a monument to the statutes of this school. Well done, Mister Lockhart. I find I have no further words that can express my utter nausea on the subject. And to Mister McCormack the Longanimous, I shall say best of luck.
This morn I received an owl from my sister, which after long contemplation I believe must be the cause of my bitter temper. Once again Emilia finds it necessary to steal moments from my life with her worthless chatter. I am decidedly elated, at this moment more than usual, that the distance between our ages is as great as it is. As she has been a near foreigner to our household for several years it has been my pleasure to look upon her as one would an aunt that everyone tolerates but no one really likes. However she regards me as almost a failure to the family because of my opinion of her, and because of this outlook takes it upon herself to commit, with every shred of feeling she can muster, all her woes over me to parchment. How glad will I be when I can finally sever all ties to her. The sorts of things she sends me in her letters would drive even a Fwooper to madness. I suppose it is in my power to eschew reading them, but they awake an emotion in me that I do not mind at all: disdain. I find that when my mind is in torment by such asininity as is evidenced in her letters, my body, or spirit, or whatever elusive part of our being governs our ability to do magic, is further empowered to the utilisation of such magics as I will not discuss here. It is an exhilarating feeling, this channeling of anger and annoyance into ability and desire for more...
Again I tardily find that I have probably said more than most wish to hear. Infernally calamitous duellers, good luck, and I pray at least one of you winds up in the hospital wing for it wouldn't do to have to bury both duellers. And Miss Evans you can cease looking over your shoulder. I am not possessed of even the information regarding how to begin climbing Gryffindor Tower, much less the knowledge of which windows afford views only Mister Potter the Profoundly Lecherous dreams of descrying.