| potterstinks in nocturne_alley @ 2002-07-01 01:24:00 |
| Current mood: | enraged |
I think the best thing that I could do would be to stop attending Hogwarts events entirely. Of course, becoming reclusive isn't quite my cup of tea, but it would certainly save me the trouble of having my life ruined by the time I'm eighteen.
Of course, nothing of such disastrous proportions has happened yet, but I'm sure it will happen soon enough. It's just a matter of time before the castle is blown up, I'd bet. Or perhaps I'll wake up one morning to find I've been strung up by my toenails and am hanging outside of the North Tower's ledge. None of this would be surprising in the slightest. This school will be the end of me, I know it. I'm starting to suspect there's a conspiracy going on in this community. If that's the case, you can just stop. I'm onto you.
I had a lovely tea with the lovely Pansy on Friday. Of course, I'm sure no one in this school understands the concept of tea etiquette, so surely you don't know what you're missing. I've not yet received punishment for skiving off of Potions, but that may just have something to do with the fact that the professors in this school have lost their collective minds.
I probably shouldn't have gone to Hogsmeade this weekend. After all, being older than thirteen, I'm no longer so easily amused. I was bored with Hogsmeade long ago. Those of us who were born to Pureblooded wizarding families have practically grown up in Hogsmeade. That is, those of us whose parents bothered to take them. So, needless to say, I was bored of the quaint little village long before third year.
Yet, for some reason, I always find it within myself to grant pleasure to the masses by attending these little weekend soirées with them. My generosity will be the end of me one day, I'd bet.
Since most of the school is talking about it, there's really no need to give my side of the story, but since mine is most important, I will anyway. Last night I stopped into the Three Broomsticks for a Buttergin. Butterbeer really is such a sissy's drink, don't you think? Unfortunately, the Weasel and the Mudblood were there, with their impoverished little brigade in tow, but I did my best to ignore them. Professor Snape was there as well, but as he was with Madam Butch and Professor Sinistra, I decided it would be best not to expose myself to the ever-so-feminine members of the Hogwarts staff by saying hello to our favourite Potions Master.
Then, of course, I noticed that Black and Lupin were there, and took a table in the corner to ensure that Black wouldn't attack me. Did you know, that at the Ball, when he finally managed to pull Potter off of me, Black insulted me? He threatened me, too. So none of this is a surprise. The man is completely violent and unstable. And what can you expect from someone who spent years hobnobbing with Dementors?
I'm not really sure what happened, but I'm pretty certain that Black was going hysterical over the shoddy material of his trousers and that Professor Snape had to slap him to send him back to reality. Of course, this was all very amusing. It's not every day that you can watch your favourite professor beat the living tar out of a dog.
However, with the typical crowd mentality, the rest of the tavern started erupting into violence. Naturally, I felt compelled to flee for my life. We can't all be morons. Some of us aren't wishing to die due to a head injury from a flying Butterbeer keg thrown by Madam Hooch. She does have an arm on her.
Before I could even get out of the tavern, someone threw a chair at me. Now, honestly. I'd known that the majority of wizards were rather uncouth, but that's just absurd. Potter, I suspect, then tried to push me in the chair's path, but he was foiled again, as we ended up under a table together. Of course, the smashing glass and thrown fruit was becoming so frequent by then that I couldn't even leave for risk of being bludgeoned to death by a kumquat. Of course.
Eventually, I managed to crawl out of the tavern (on my hands and knees, no less. I ask you, do I deserve this?) after some witch screamed and caused sufficient distraction, and hardly anyone was around in the village. Dumbledore and McGonagall were marching down to the Three Broomsticks, and I'm quite sure if they'd seen me, I'd have received the blame for the whole brawl.
And, naturally, there were no carriages around, so I had no other choice but to sodding walk back to Hogwarts. Do you realise how far of a walk that is? Of course not, because it wasn't too long after I started walking that the carriages showed up to pick everyone else up. But could they have stopped and picked me up? Oh, no, of course not. That might cause a little too much comfort for me!
By the time I finally made it to the school, I could barely walk for all of the blisters on my ankles. Dragonhide boots aren't meant for menial labour such as walking. So, crippled and inches from death from the pain of these blisters, I somehow managed to make it back to Slytherin.
This morning I stopped by to see Pomfrey to have something done about these blisters, but the only 'person' that was there was that Gingham Weasley girl. Apparently she got hit in the head with a bottle in the Three Broomsticks last night. It isn't surprising at all, of course, considering the fact that her head is practically a moving target. I wouldn't recommend that any of the Weasels ever hop into a bull-fighting ring. She had the most god awful stuffed dragon by her bed. I hadn't realised she was still a first year. This is the second time I've seen that ugly thing lying around unattended. Things can get lost so easily that way. I did warn her.
Comments:
| purestblood @ 2002-07-01 12:30 am UTC |
Draco,
I was very distressed to hear of the unfortunate events in Hogsmeade. I am sending you a new pair of dragonhide boots and, rest assured, the house-elves have softened them up for you. Please return the offending pair by owl and I will see to it that the merchant never foists such shoddy goods on an unsuspecting public again.
If you require a private mediwizard to look after you, please let me know. We don't want to take any chances and blisters can get infected quite easily.
Your father
| potterstinks @ 2002-07-01 01:15 am UTC |
I was rather distressed to live through the events, myself. I expect such mediocre treatment at Hogwarts, of course, but I would think that they would at least provide the students of the school with transportation. Of course, I've probably also caught pneumonia from being outside so long. Evidently, I accidentally left my cloak in the Three Broomsticks, where it was probably used as a sash in a swashbuckling fit from Professor Lupin. Have you heard what he wore to the Bleu Ball?
Father, if my blisters don't heal quickly, I really think you'll need to speak with the Headmaster. I'm sure he wouldn't want to lose any money over it...
Your poor son,
Draco
| purestblood @ 2002-07-01 02:32 am UTC |
Draco,
With all of the galleons I have donated to Hogwarts, I find it simply appalling that they cannot even provide my son and heir with proper transportation, as befits a Malfoy. This will not be tolerated. Rest assured that I am looking into the matter.
I am sending you two new cloaks as a replacement for the one you lost in the disgraceful events of the weekend. I have stressed to you many times how important it is that we, as Malfoys, assume a position of leadership and provide a role model for those less fortunate than we. It is indicative of Albus Dumbledore's leadership that his own professors cannot be bothered to remain cognizant of their status as role models for some students.
My accountant is fully aware of my feelings, and soon, Albus Dumbledore will be as well.
Please inform me immediately if you develop a cold or if the blisters show any sign of infection.
Your mother, as always, sends her love.
Your father.
| potterstinks @ 2002-07-01 04:17 am UTC |
You're absolutely right, of course, Father. I was certain you wouldn't let this go unnoticed.
I, of course, have always assumed a proper position of leadership above those that I'm better than. It's not easy, naturally, seeing as most of them are such bottom-dwellers that every glimpse of the top turns them into stammering fools. But I would definitely not attempt to follow Dumbledore's example, as a Prefect, when guiding my "peers."
I was sure you wouldn't stand for this, Father. Honestly, a Malfoy being forced into a bar fight. Being forced to crawl out of a tavern. It was horrible and scandalous.
Of course, I'll keep you up to date on any progression on my possible forthcoming illnesses.
Your favourite heir,
Draco.