| lupercus @ 2003-08-02 19:48:00 |
| Current mood: |  busy |
| Current music: | "88 Spells About 44 Witches," Weird Sisters (soundcheck) |
Pack Mentality
I woke up on the floor this morning with an elbow in my eye, a knee in my side, a gray puppy gnawing on my hand, and a huge, black, furry, impossibly warm blanket over my legs, and I've never been so comfortable or content in my life.
Also: Harry cheats during tickle-attacks. I don't know who taught him that, though I have my suspicions.
The house is no longer a tomb. It's alive, and loud and noisy and busy. Minerva's sent over the remainder of the Hogwarts house-elves to assist with party preparations, while the taller, red-and-sandy-haired house-elves we call Charlie and Seamus are taking care of decorations. The ballroom looks wonderful. There's enough food to feed the entire population of London. The Weird Sisters (Kirley is now sporting a mohawk, at his age!) are setting up in the hall.
People are due to begin arriving in just a few short hours, so I'd best make this quick. My spouse and the boy are currently out roaming the grounds, looking for a good place to put up the Quidditch hoops. I think they were going to try and have them up by tonight so that if Harry and his friends are so inclined, they can play an impromptu match while the rest of us adults make boring conversation during the party.
I've got to go and write my speech for the roast tonight. I am looking forward to this. Probably more than I ought to be, but Harry's going to help me with it later, and I think we'll manage to come up with some pretty good material on the old buzzard. Albus sent an owl today that I know was intended to placate me into behaving myself tonight, saying that Harry's allowed to stay with us until the start of term, and while that is all very well and good (Harry did a victory dance that bordered on the obscene), we still have a bone to pick, and pick it, we shall.
Am being dragged away by a no-account teenager who says they need me to spot for them while they install the hoops. So demanding, this boy. No manners, either. Like godfather, like godson. I need a kennel.
Anyway, must be off.
See you all tonight!
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