(no subject)
Finally. Curtains drawn, everyone else asleep - unless Draco's faking. Back at school. Even given the state of things here, I prefer it to the prevalent mood in Mother's London house during the holiday. As a thrilling example of which: Today.
Thornapple, Mother’s man of the hour, woke me at crack of dawn, wearing a silk kimono and a considerable intoxication, apparently mistaking my room for the second bathroom, or so he claimed. My hex missed him when he tripped over Nettle, the houseelf. They were both gone before I could hex her, too, for forgetting to charm my door locked. Then he and Mother had a shouting match in the hallway, but by the time he got out of here there was no going back to sleep.
I spent most of the morning packing my school trunk while the WWN warbled on about Dark Marks in the suburbs of Brighton, Ministerial warnings and Celestina Warbecks latest divorce. Mother was not mentioned, which makes it a full month since the Wireless has done a report on her. Though at the rate Thornapple’s going, there might a new scandal soon enough.
I made the mistake of pointing this out to mother when she came in, which made her rather keen to have a shouting match with me, as well. I know better than to fight when she’s in that mood, though, as I don’t fancy having my own things thrown at me. Also, she always ends up in tears and I’m so thoroughly sick of that after a whole bloody holiday at home. Some peace from her hysterics - and Thornapple’s too - will make a welcome change.