potions_master @ 2003-05-26 13:47:00

Current mood:

irate

Beware of rousing a wizard's wrath.
This school irritates me.

God forbid a man keep a small cadre of Puffskeins on hand in order to provide sustenance for his familiar, lest the first-years show the unmitigated gall of assuming that the wretched creatures are simply there for their amusement. Imagine my joy upon discovering a herd of the little whelps congregated around the Puffskein cage, cooing and making the most disgustingly affectionate sounds at them. One actually had the audacity to request one as a pet, to which I responded by allowing her to select one, and then giving it over to Liltou who made short work of it and thus drove the blighters out of my office - in tears, no less.

Let it never be said that I do not heed the needs of the young.

Unfortunately not every day has been so entertaining. Several nights ago while attempting to read a new folio owled to me by my associates at Scuffle & Dustcough, with Lilitou fed and grooming herself at my feet, when my silence was ruptured by the sound of sniveling in the hall. Of course, it is not enough that I am forced to deal with this sort of behaviour on a daily basis during the daylight hours, but now they have infiltrated my private quarters as well. Pity the Headmaster vetoed my request for traps to be placed in the dungeon corridors as a means to end my suffering.

At any rate, upon investigation I discovered the blotched, water-stained face of one of the Ravenclaw seventh-years, Chang. She was sitting in the corner of one of my laboratories, whinging something about an owl from her mother and Romania. I do not pretend to have any interest in what she was saying. My interest was in getting her to be silent and to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.

After a bothersome lecture it appeared that she was not going to leave at any point and so I put her to work looking after Lilitou while I finished up my book and prepared myself for slumber. The Ravenclaw wench gave the cat her final Puffskein for the evening, cleaned up the carcass, and soothed Lilitou through her digestion. I will admit that I was mildly impressed that a slight girl of Seeker stature did not flinch as she plucked the shrieking Puffskein from its nest and offered it to Lilitou's bared fangs. She seemed almost fascinated by the process.

However that is not to say I allowed the brat to overstay her welcome, and finally she left for her own dormitory. I have warned her that I do not want to see her anywhere near my chambers again, lest she desire to find herself stripped of points and scrubbing cauldrons until the summer holidays. We will see if any of it managed to penetrate her inevitably thick skull.

I close with a question to my fellow staff: Why is the male Weasley parading about the Great Hall in the most heinous and offensive colours scheme I have ever seen on a living human? Has the boy been cursed? Is there no place to lock him up until it wears off, as my eyes are burned by the horror of his appearance. No one - absolutely no one - should attempt to wear any shade of orange with hair such as his.

That is all. Go away now.

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