(Untitled)

[swanchang]

It's been requested of me that I update my journal, and so I shall

Comments

[bittercakes]

I'm over quidditch players, generally speaking.

QUODPOT, on the other hand...

[swanchang]

You have a point with your Quodpot players...

[bittercakes]

They're so fierce. Probably much less trustworthy. But then perhaps it's better if you know BEFOREHAND that you can't trust them.

[swanchang]

I don't want to trust them among the other things I could do to or with them.

[brockadoodle]

Is security up everywhere or just here?

What I am wondering, I suppose, is if Fred and George have colour-coded torches outside their shoppe to let customers know whether it's safe to come in and spend their pocket money or not.

[swanchang]

Excellent question! It's just Hogwarts. It's just your insane gentleman with the one eye, though I believe for Bastille Day last year, they put torches out in front of the shop that shot out glitter and such whenever someone walked out with a WWW bag.

[brockadoodle]

How absolutely festive.

Do I get a nice gift certificate or somesuch, for asking an excellent question?

[swanchang]

Five percent off for being so clever as to ask for a gift certificate. If you wear a short skirt, Fred might give you another five off.

[ravencapt]

How else are you going to keep up with my interviews?

[swanchang]

Your vanity is boundless! It's why we get along so well, I'm sure of it.

[ravencapt]

It's not vanity, it's just a mere demonstration of friendship.

[swanchang]

Of course, of course.

[goddesspatil]

You mean preparing for our exams isn't saving the world?

... dammit, I must be so tired my sarcasm isn't up to par.

[swanchang]

No, I was wrong. It is and you should all do brilliantly on them under penalty of death and working menial jobs until you're killed.

[goddesspatil]

That shouldn't have made me laugh so hard, because I swear I read 'menial' as 'lentil'.

... oh God, Cho. I think I'm cracking up.

[swanchang]

As long as you're laughing at misreading a word and not at my fantastic wit.

Yes, that happens. Surely you remember we former sevenths and the weeks of not speaking or, if we did speak, it was to rattle off the properties of anything in sight. And the time I almost cried because one of the fourth years said 'this table' and I couldn't think of anything.