Disturbing new trends in the public's treatment of ME
Have end-of-term examinations driven everyone in the castle mad? Or is there a cosmic rule that when a handful of individuals are spared the fog of insanity, others must be thrust into it to make up for their sudden absence? Either way, I cannot even begin to fathom everyone's disturbing fascination with my socks. Pansy's fascination I can understand, but why others feel they are privy to the condition and details of my socks is entirely baffling, and really rather intrusive. Just the other day Ermengarde Teesdale harassed me in the common room as I sat diligently revising up for my last few examinations. She spotted me and gasped, simultaneously falling to her knees and wringing her hands together, sobbing uncontrollably. At first I thought she was having a fit of sorts, and looked around for a book to jam into her mouth and keep her from biting off her own tongue--this was an unusually generous gesture on my part, I realise. But then she let out an earth-shattering squeal and unbuckled her shoes, an action she followed by peeling off both her socks and throwing them in my face. She then pleaded with me to allow her an itty-bitty glimpse of my infamous sock drawer. I tossed her own socks into the fire and told her to run. I was of course entirely revolted by her display. Professor Snape, might I suggest you send her off to Madam Pomfrey for a mental checkup?
Last night, on the saner end of the castle, Padma and I conversed about our plans for the upcoming summer holiday. As I will be in Greece and she in India, we have decided to revise our current relationship to one of platonic friendship. She is of course just as free to visit me in Santorini as Pansy, Blaise, Millicent, Gregory, and Vincent are. Anyone else in need of my company should Owl my Mother for an engraved invitation; address all such inquiries to Deep, Frozen Hell.
Potter, I need to ask a favour of you.
Wait. I demand a favour.
Request.
Fine. I'll pay you or something. It won't take long.
Last night, on the saner end of the castle, Padma and I conversed about our plans for the upcoming summer holiday. As I will be in Greece and she in India, we have decided to revise our current relationship to one of platonic friendship. She is of course just as free to visit me in Santorini as Pansy, Blaise, Millicent, Gregory, and Vincent are. Anyone else in need of my company should Owl my Mother for an engraved invitation; address all such inquiries to Deep, Frozen Hell.
Potter, I need to ask a favour of you.
Wait. I demand a favour.
Request.
Fine. I'll pay you or something. It won't take long.