While I'm quite possibly going to catch whatever this new affliction is, my biggest irritation at the moment is the threat of my great pillock of a cousin, Roger The Self-Important Quidditch Scout. It just does not get any better. But at least now I have something to write about in this damned thing, so perhaps I should look on the bright side.

I read about the 'chicken pox', and for a Muggle disease, it's quite interesting. What, with the rash and the scabs, the itching, the fever and malaise and the fact it's highly contagious. The picture alongside the description in the book was absolutely disgusting. And already we have an epidemic.

I am full of anticipation.

I'm just going to fervently hope that cousin dearest gets a rather good dose of Varicella today. He owes me a favour or two, perhaps the sight of him scratching like a flea-ridden dog will suffice for the time being.

Ugh. If anyone comes near me with the slightest hint of a pruritic rash, the itching shall be the least of your worries.

Another unremarkable week. And here is me, having to write about it.

I do thank those who remembered my birthday on Monday. Even if I wasn't in particularly festive mood. The occasion was certainly not lost on my mother, apparently.

And that's all I care to say.



Other than my affinity for the number three.

And I have no excuses.


Go away, now.

I think I have a complaint. We are expected to stay here for our summer vacation with only a few hours of class a day to otherwise occupy us, and it's not hard to find yourself with far too much time on your hands, doing homework, revision and planning nefarious deeds only kills so much time. I may even be that bored that I am actually writing this voluntarily, and it's getting out of hand. Next we'll be counting the floating candles at dinner 748 or taking up to tearing pages out of out text books and practicing origami or set out on a hunting expeditions for Nargles. Idle minds, and all that.

Really, this was well thought out.

Discussing Oxford in July with Finch-Fletchley the other day was a rare welcome distraction. I've not been back there since the last holidays, and even though I've never missed the place before, it's odd that I should now. It would have been nice to have seen the capping this year. And to have gone to Blackwell's again would have been a treat, even though there's a store in London, it's just not the same.

And having too much time to dwell on what you could be doing instead of being here can be a little dangerous.

Maybe I can go translate my Charms text into Mermish.

Well, this is certainly interesting.

Certainly has been some interesting developments.

Yes, Draco Malfoy is indeed fine. Though if Nott keeps poking that goose it will explode it's that huge. There's enough liver in that thing to feed Belgium.

Yes, Potter is fine, also. But apparently he's done something bad and obviously he will get away with it, and the world will keep spinning on its axis.

Yes, the groundskeeper is dead. And there is big ravenous boarhound that's gone without its dinner for a while.

Yes, they are suggesting we participate in 'fun' activities while we are incarcerated here over the summer break. I cannot say how much anticipation I am trying to contain.

And, oh yes, as if there wasn't enough excitement, there was the appetite-killing display at dinner a few nights back. That certainly cannot be topped.

So, there it is.

Going early for breakfast, if you have to know.

And I have CDs to listen to now. I think my father said something about sending a cat of some description next time. The rest of my loving family are spending their summer in Heidelberg. So being stuck here will be the lesser of two evils.

Only just.

This is so absolutely stupid.

Since I'd rather not subject myself to any more of your nonsense, I thought it less frustrating to do it here. If that is agreeable to you, of course.
Make it quick, because I haven't got all day.


1. Summarise your experience with the journaling project so far.

2. Funniest and Most Embarrassing moment (provide links)

3. Best/Worst thing about the project

4. Do you feel differently about the journal project now than you did at the beginning?

5. What was the most unexpected thing you learned about someone else because of the journal project?

6. What was the most unexpected thing you learned about the person you're interviewing?

7. Has your opinion of any other House changed?

8. Do you believe in inter house unity, and if so, how do you justify your prejudice against Slytherin?

9.Do you think this project was worthwhile? Why?

Remember to use your indoor voice, Ficus.

House Hufflepuff owe me 23 minutes.

I've had History of Magic classes more entertaining.

Frankly, who cares. I'm well aware of the pointlessness of this entire entry, but I had to least make an effort. Screw making an effort. I've not slept much, it is a well known fact that there are more imbeciles per head of population in this castle than a circus school and each waking moment makes me glad I've fostered a good working relationship with my mortar and pestle.

Midgen, I'm sitting in your chair. I will not be persuaded to move, however much you distract me.

On a more plesant note, Nat, your birthday party was a great success for the entire hour and forty seven minutes I was there. Pansy, I'll come find you later, at your convenience.

Perhaps I should apologise for making you read this. But maybe I won't. Life is entirely unfair, isn't it.

Er heddiw ydy 'n swyddogol St. Dafydd s Ddiwrnod a Dwi 'n swyddogol 'n dri - wythau Cymraeg, Fi shall dathla 'r 'n flaen hychydig horiau chan 'm 'n genedlaethol ddiwrnod at yn sgwennu hon i mewn 'm lafariad-'n llai eilia dafodiaith.

Achos Fi a) all, ai b) aberfa t cysgedig i mewn o leiaf ddeuddydd.

Macmillan. Ai darllenaist th ydy yn ôl 'na Mai ai Mai mo bod chwnsel cenadwri 'n ysgrifenedig ag 'n faleisus a adwyth amcanion. Jyst a bennau i fyny.

A achos 'r bwyso chennych, jyst gwrandaw achos 'ch enwa.

Er, beth alla ddeud? Amgen na Vincent's cam acha 'r llwybr chan goleuedigaeth ydy enghraifft atom pawb. 'N addoer, enillais t bod 'na at dystio Dorian cynnal eiddo hychydig addaw, fel fi m mo 'r drwg deipio. I mewn a bwyll, wrth gwrs. Gwnawn, ar ôl pawb, gwirfoddola 'm amsera at cadw oed Arall Boblogi a Ran 'm Fferins, namyn ni pawb angen at brofi 'n grai bethau o leiaf siwrnai. A chnotiau, Fi Mai 'n weithredol fedda 'i Nat.

Slytherin has siwrnai brofedig ei hun 'r D] chan Melodrama, namyn enillasom t cer 'na achos a) rhyw chennym ydy hefyd afiach, ai b) 'r bwyso chennym gwisga t angen at siarad am 'i. A a s ble 'i shall berthyn.

Hyd yn oed er fi ve mo eb ddim mewn blwc, Ca ddim at ddeud. Amgen na Dwi blinedig at Hufflepuffs acha a 'n rheolaidd sail, sy 'n anawdd yn synnu. Chlywais achlust a Blaise got feinedd cath - beth 'n ddiweddar , namyn fi ve mo 'n weledig 'i. Na Blaise, achos a chrawn. Namyn Alla ddeud ar 'r heibio i wythnos ai 'n ddau, Canfyddais i maes bit hychwaneg am myfi, sef Dwi 'r Swyddog Ddialedd at hun E. Macmillan. Fi didn't adnabod Cawn 'i yno. I mewn ffaith, fi ve had hychwaneg chyffyrddiad ag hynny sodding brochion na ag 'm addef d. A Pansy's bacia, fel Amcana bethau ydy yn cerdded at ca hychwaneg yn diddori am 'ma. 'n arbennig er Benderfynais at gwna arfer chan 'r beth dros ben blwc ynddi absen.

A, fel achos myfi, Fi jyst gwna myfi 'n brin gwna 'm efrydiau cara 'r da bachgennes Dwi. Iawn? Ddim 'n amheugar 'ma. Na yn diddori. Atalnwyd a chwilfrydig dracht Mai mo bod pawb s ddrychfeddwl chan chwmni, namyn o leiaf 'i isn't yn cerdded at chychwyn an 'n afrwydd hymarwar ai ca a 'n ofnus ymddatodiad arna.

Fi must hefyd chynhalia a hon chofnodiad was mo 'n ddigon 'n ewyllysgar.

Er Ca ffair ddrychfeddwl odiaeth chennych ca na ddrychfeddwl beth Ca jyst eb. A s beth makes 'i hychwaneg yn diddanu.

Oh, how amusing. Indeed, again, I have missed all the fun. Ravenclaws are hexing each other, Gryffindors are coming to terms with the idea that Life Is Just Not Fair, and there is a rodent running around Slytherin.

This isn't news, by the bye. This seems to happen all the time. Oh, but this time was far more entertaining with all those point lovely deductions. Added bonus.

Said rodent will find itself short of a spleen if I happen to see it. Squirrel sleens are quite the valuable ingredient in Wit Sharpening brews.

Which there is obviously a drastic need for around here.

Oh, ooooh! And I will conclude this post with rather a spiffy and intelligent-looking quote, summing up just about everything, because that seems to be the trend lately.

The world is a great temple dedicated to Discord. - Voltaire, 1752

So.

Midgen. Happy Birthday. Just for you, I will not sit in your chair in the library today. I will even make sure no-one else sits in it either. I must say that is mighty generous of me.

Dorian. You did get your present, I trust? What can I say, I just think you're the black-pearl cuff-link type. And thank you for the punch refreshments and such. The suspenders were an adorable touch.

Pansy: I'm reading your birthday present. I do hope that is okay. I would have asked, but you were sleeping.

Macmillan. I will save you any further trouble. Any foreign and multi-syllabic you may encounter on my posts do NOT contain secretly evil and dark messages. So stop asking me at spoon-point.

Blaise. I don't know if I want to know how you came across a Huflepuff scarf, but I hope the victim didn't suffer too badly.

And ha ha. I am blinded by your sparkling wit.

The world is coming to an end. I am being nice to Hufflepuffs. Woe.

Very thrilling, that was.

Rhys Upjohn. A cousin of my father's. Da just owled me. He's waiting for news.

And Boot's sister. They're only children.

Dw i ddim in deall.

Well, I'm going off to go over my Alchemy chapter in the library. Pansy, if you're around, I'd like to compare notes, if that's okay.

We have been silently counting down the days until the noise returns, we restful beings down in the dungeons. It's been snowing, I hear, non-stop for days. I wouldn't know any better, we've no windows down here. My time lately has been spent either doing homework, because I am thusly predictable, or reading in front of the Common Room fireplace, chatting with Draco, and that amiable Crup of his.

I'm pleased to say said Crup has not destroyed any of my shoes. Though Queenie Greengrass might not be too pleased when she returns.

Oh, only a few more hours of this. There are only a few first- and second-years hiding out around here, and thankfully they've managed to keep their incessant prattle and bothersome card games to themselves. I can't tell how wonderful it is to not be hassled on a regular basis. I shall have to reacquaint myself with the normal annoyances, namely one ficus, before the start of Term.

Christmas, for once, was uneventful, it was a change from the norm I'm not willing to share. The feast on the 25th was pleasant enough, presents, the whole festive nonsense. Well, I am enjoying my presents, thanks kindly, especially to Dorian, because I didn't get you anything in return.

Then there was Cornfoot. I think that remains to be left unsaid.

Dydd Calan was a drag. I guess that was one thing about not being in London that I missed this year. Though, Dad sent some bara brith on the First, even some taffy, and that went down well.

Well, I've certainly been quite loquacious this morning. I must go chastise myself for being so forthcoming.

Gan ddumuno iechyd a hapusrwydd i chi yn 1997.

No wonder I've not seen him here all night. There are only a handful of people around here, and we are the only two sixth years around the place, and you think I'd notice. I didn't, and...damn it. God, I hope he's okay.

This is...this is terrible. Unbelievable.

I should go find Oscar. Even if it is nearly 3am.

I know one thing is for certain, this will not go unpunished, not by any means.

Insert my usual harked-off spiel here. I'm too tired to write another one.

- We are Ficus-free.
- We won. Again.
- I'm mildy curious as to what the Bippy Dance is.
- I don't care for balls.
- I'm staying here for Christmas because I do not want to go home and I don't care for the consequences.
- I am blaming my current state of incoherency on the amount of Potions revision I'm doing.
- I really don't think I've had enough sleep. This possibly explains my caustic disposition. If you want to test this theory, please come and annoy me.
- The 'meeting' on Saturday night was quite educational. Perhaps if punch and pie were provided, we could convince more people along.
- Nat: I've listened to your David Boggart CD twice now, possibly a bit too loud for my roommate's liking, and I have come to the conclusion that the whole experience was certainly interesting.. I am certainly enlightened.
- Boot: I am duly delighted to hear about your Non-Passing Over. I will be at the same chair in the library I sat in at the time of our last Non-Date, tomorrow night. If you choose to sit in the chair opposite, that is quite acceptable.

I hope that was interesting enough for you.

Go away, now.

I am disliking sentences, so today's begrudged entry shall be in point form. Perhaps it would make it easier for some other hapless lifeforms to comprehend.

Point One. I am still being followed. I am no longer wary of the element of surprise, as my follower has no sense of subtlety.

Point Two. Walking and badly disguised ficuses are amusing and kicking them always elicits great amusement.

Point Three. I do not take to kindly to spoons being waved in my face by squirrely Hufflepuffs. Spoons make wonderful weapons of envisceration, on account of their bluntness in the right hands. Just a word of warning.

Point Four. I am trying to do Herbology. Kindly take this as a sign to not be in my sight.

Point Five. I do not like any of my given or shortened names. I am just thankful I wasn't named after my Great-Aunt Hildegard.

Point Six. If any Slytherin likes having five digits on each of their two hands, they should STOP eating my sugar quills.

Point Seven. Just knowing anyone in this castle could have little hearts over their 'i's is enough to make me wonder about the future generation.

Point Eight. I am entirely quite concerned that the hair care products of a certain sixth year Ravenclaw with a prediliction of referring to himself in the third person keep going missing. Though I do know why he looks like he swims everywhere.

Is this enough, sir?