(no subject)
I lost this thing. It was hidden under some clothes and apparently was taken to the laundry by the House-Elves who returned it. I bet that Slughorn found it somehow and spent time reading it. Not that he'd get a lot of information.
I think I might be developing a taste for conspiracy theories.
Mum sent a letter, telling me that Uncle Mark is getting married. And then I got a letter from the bride to be, Olivia, and she asked me to be in the wedding. How nice, she wants a Muggle wedding because it will be "quaint."
I'm offended for my mother. Honestly. It's quaint, and cute, and oh, look at the silly Muggles and their wedding customs. Please.
And the dresses she wants! They're horrid! This huge, fluffy white thing for her. It'll make her look like a great, huge, cream-coloured cow, and I hope she's reading this because I WANT HER TO KNOW. Plus the colour of the bridemaids dresses! This awful, sickly shade of mint green! Who wears that? It'll make me look completely washed out and horrid. And poofy. Ugh, I'll be poofy, too.
If ONE MORE PERSON shows me the picture of my brother in Witch Weekly, or even MENTIONS it to me, I can't be held responsible for my actions. Honestly, I don't know what you're going on about, he's my brother, and not all that handsome. Puddlemere's Keeper is MUCH nicer-looking.
[Private to Damien]
So, tell me about your girlfriend, then. What's she like? What's her name? All the details.
Mr Sparrows owled me the other day, informing me that in a couple of weeks, I'm to start looking in on certain aspects of the Dark Arts. I'm nervous, and more than a little frightened. I admit to having a little bit of trouble understanding why it is necessary that I know this.
[/Private]
[Private]
Perhaps I am avoiding the issue, even to myself. I can admit -- and in semi-public, no less -- that I love Terry. But in here? It's almost as if I'm afraid that it will make it too real to put it down in writing, even if it is privately and to no one's eyes but my own.
But here it goes. Lord, Lisa, when you look back on this, probaby even a week from now, you're going to be so glad you didn't let anyone read this.
I love Terry Boot. Four simple words, and yet they contain so much. His smile is enough to make my legs watery, but he doesn't know that. I've never kissed anyone in public like that; my cheeks are burning simply thinking about it. And yet, I'd do it again. Not only did I do that once, but twice.
I'm nothing like Morag -- sex isn't simply a release. It's more, and I don't want to have it just to make myself look better in anyone's eyes -- but there are times when all I think about is Terry, and the fact that all we've done is kissed, and I can't help but wonder if I'm doing something right because he's not even mentioned it to me. I feel like I'm going to eventually make an even bigger fool of myself with him.
I love him. A lot.
Mum always sends her owl around this time of year, asking my plans for the Christmas hols, and they never change. Always go home (except for Fourth Year), always laze about the house and help get Christmas ready. I don't think that Terry's ever experienced a Wizarding Christmas, which, granted, isn't all that different from a Muggle one. I wonder what the reaction would be if I invited him home over the hols -- Boxing Day, at least?
I'm making plans, and it's scaring me. So much. Like this Unspeakable business. The Dark Arts. That's huge. It's frightening. I did some extra reading on them a few years ago, and there is evidence that they can change a person. As in, their personality. It was unclear whether that change is permanent or not. I dare say that if you use them the change would be permanent, but simply studying might simply be a temporary one. That makes me feel slightly better, but I'd really rather not study them at all. Well, sometime, perhaps, like when I'm hired. But not here, not now.
[/Private]
I think I might be developing a taste for conspiracy theories.
Mum sent a letter, telling me that Uncle Mark is getting married. And then I got a letter from the bride to be, Olivia, and she asked me to be in the wedding. How nice, she wants a Muggle wedding because it will be "quaint."
I'm offended for my mother. Honestly. It's quaint, and cute, and oh, look at the silly Muggles and their wedding customs. Please.
And the dresses she wants! They're horrid! This huge, fluffy white thing for her. It'll make her look like a great, huge, cream-coloured cow, and I hope she's reading this because I WANT HER TO KNOW. Plus the colour of the bridemaids dresses! This awful, sickly shade of mint green! Who wears that? It'll make me look completely washed out and horrid. And poofy. Ugh, I'll be poofy, too.
If ONE MORE PERSON shows me the picture of my brother in Witch Weekly, or even MENTIONS it to me, I can't be held responsible for my actions. Honestly, I don't know what you're going on about, he's my brother, and not all that handsome. Puddlemere's Keeper is MUCH nicer-looking.
[Private to Damien]
So, tell me about your girlfriend, then. What's she like? What's her name? All the details.
Mr Sparrows owled me the other day, informing me that in a couple of weeks, I'm to start looking in on certain aspects of the Dark Arts. I'm nervous, and more than a little frightened. I admit to having a little bit of trouble understanding why it is necessary that I know this.
[/Private]
[Private]
Perhaps I am avoiding the issue, even to myself. I can admit -- and in semi-public, no less -- that I love Terry. But in here? It's almost as if I'm afraid that it will make it too real to put it down in writing, even if it is privately and to no one's eyes but my own.
But here it goes. Lord, Lisa, when you look back on this, probaby even a week from now, you're going to be so glad you didn't let anyone read this.
I love Terry Boot. Four simple words, and yet they contain so much. His smile is enough to make my legs watery, but he doesn't know that. I've never kissed anyone in public like that; my cheeks are burning simply thinking about it. And yet, I'd do it again. Not only did I do that once, but twice.
I'm nothing like Morag -- sex isn't simply a release. It's more, and I don't want to have it just to make myself look better in anyone's eyes -- but there are times when all I think about is Terry, and the fact that all we've done is kissed, and I can't help but wonder if I'm doing something right because he's not even mentioned it to me. I feel like I'm going to eventually make an even bigger fool of myself with him.
I love him. A lot.
Mum always sends her owl around this time of year, asking my plans for the Christmas hols, and they never change. Always go home (except for Fourth Year), always laze about the house and help get Christmas ready. I don't think that Terry's ever experienced a Wizarding Christmas, which, granted, isn't all that different from a Muggle one. I wonder what the reaction would be if I invited him home over the hols -- Boxing Day, at least?
I'm making plans, and it's scaring me. So much. Like this Unspeakable business. The Dark Arts. That's huge. It's frightening. I did some extra reading on them a few years ago, and there is evidence that they can change a person. As in, their personality. It was unclear whether that change is permanent or not. I dare say that if you use them the change would be permanent, but simply studying might simply be a temporary one. That makes me feel slightly better, but I'd really rather not study them at all. Well, sometime, perhaps, like when I'm hired. But not here, not now.
[/Private]