A witch of the world, indeed.
If ever in my elder years I take the moment to look back upon my youth with reflection and begin my memoirs, I believe this chapter will be entitled, The Horizontal Hustle. For horizontal has most certainly been my frequent position over this past weekend, and I do not care to remove myself from it in any way. Fortunately, keyboards are simple to use by wand from across the room.
The always inconquerable Rita Skeeter has returned after a long and blessed absence. I myself have always liked Rita. She does such an adequate job of keeping up with gossip, which must be especially difficult for a woman of her years. Surely it must be hard to tell whom is dancing with whom when you are looking through bifocals. And giving the more prominent members of the wizarding society a run for their privacy must be difficult when you are trying to chase them on arthritic ankles.
My Evening With Severus Snape (copyright) seems to have taken on a life of its own. I do not recall wrapping Severus nor Sirius around my finger. I should think that I would remember such a thing.
Severus and I actually had quite the charming evening at the Fig Leaf Tavern. I do believe Severus was given the floo addresses of no less than two waiters. Knockturn Alley on a Friday evening is one of the better places I can think of to spend time. It may be the atmosphere. I don't know why so many of my fellow professors frown upon being seen there. The Fig Leaf placed second in the Wizardly Tavern of the Year contest last year, and I do believe that it only lost to the Leaky Cauldron because of the latter's trendiness. I prefer things that are more underground, myself.
Severus and I came up with a wonderful idea late into the evening and stopped by Borgin and Burkes for a particular item which we were pleased to find. It was infinitely useful.
We later went to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate, and what better way to celebrate than by doing the tango? I don't know what Rita Skeeter found so provocative about two people dancing. Tom owled me this morning to inform me that the Leaky Cauldron does not have a dance floor, and that it is a non-dancing establishment. This may have something to do with the fact that Tom is bow-legged and could not manage a meagre two-step if he tried. I also think he was offended by the fact that Sevvie clutched a rose between his teeth. What is a tango without a rose? Not my kind of tango.
At this point things are rather fuzzy. I woke up in Severus's chambers on Saturday, and for a moment, I thought they had been hexed so that the floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. However, this was not the case. It seems that Severus and I had passed out with our heads at the foot of his bed. I tried to right myself, when I noticed a hand on Severus's thigh. I wondered if we were not alone, until I realised it was the Hand of Glory. They do recognise their owners so quickly.
I must admit I was very disappointed to later realise that my favourite robes were streaked with red paint when I returned to my rooms to change. I also found a paintbrush stuck to the bottom of my cloak.
At dinner, Xiomara gleefully informed us of our entrance into the Prophet, and we also learned that Professor Black had put himself in an accident. I must say, I am mildly shocked. I did not realise think our tango was that awe-inspiring.
Sirius, you do have my condolences. The bike was taken out on Saturday. It went quietly. There was little suffering.
The always inconquerable Rita Skeeter has returned after a long and blessed absence. I myself have always liked Rita. She does such an adequate job of keeping up with gossip, which must be especially difficult for a woman of her years. Surely it must be hard to tell whom is dancing with whom when you are looking through bifocals. And giving the more prominent members of the wizarding society a run for their privacy must be difficult when you are trying to chase them on arthritic ankles.
My Evening With Severus Snape (copyright) seems to have taken on a life of its own. I do not recall wrapping Severus nor Sirius around my finger. I should think that I would remember such a thing.
Severus and I actually had quite the charming evening at the Fig Leaf Tavern. I do believe Severus was given the floo addresses of no less than two waiters. Knockturn Alley on a Friday evening is one of the better places I can think of to spend time. It may be the atmosphere. I don't know why so many of my fellow professors frown upon being seen there. The Fig Leaf placed second in the Wizardly Tavern of the Year contest last year, and I do believe that it only lost to the Leaky Cauldron because of the latter's trendiness. I prefer things that are more underground, myself.
Severus and I came up with a wonderful idea late into the evening and stopped by Borgin and Burkes for a particular item which we were pleased to find. It was infinitely useful.
We later went to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate, and what better way to celebrate than by doing the tango? I don't know what Rita Skeeter found so provocative about two people dancing. Tom owled me this morning to inform me that the Leaky Cauldron does not have a dance floor, and that it is a non-dancing establishment. This may have something to do with the fact that Tom is bow-legged and could not manage a meagre two-step if he tried. I also think he was offended by the fact that Sevvie clutched a rose between his teeth. What is a tango without a rose? Not my kind of tango.
At this point things are rather fuzzy. I woke up in Severus's chambers on Saturday, and for a moment, I thought they had been hexed so that the floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. However, this was not the case. It seems that Severus and I had passed out with our heads at the foot of his bed. I tried to right myself, when I noticed a hand on Severus's thigh. I wondered if we were not alone, until I realised it was the Hand of Glory. They do recognise their owners so quickly.
I must admit I was very disappointed to later realise that my favourite robes were streaked with red paint when I returned to my rooms to change. I also found a paintbrush stuck to the bottom of my cloak.
At dinner, Xiomara gleefully informed us of our entrance into the Prophet, and we also learned that Professor Black had put himself in an accident. I must say, I am mildly shocked. I did not realise think our tango was that awe-inspiring.
Sirius, you do have my condolences. The bike was taken out on Saturday. It went quietly. There was little suffering.