| potterstinks @ 2003-12-30 13:02:00 |
| Current mood: | enraged |
Yesterday I had tea with My Mother to discuss what I ought to do with one of my many Christmas gifts. You see, I've been given the deeds to a shop on Diagon Alley and I just don't know what to do with it, as it's quite unexpected. Of course, it was a shop that no one had been owning, so unfortunately I've not put anyone out of business, but that's beside the point. The point is that I've now this shop to do whatever I'd like with. Of course, I'll have to find people to run it, as I clearly can't do so from Hogwarts and working in retail isn't my life's ambition, but I shall, of course, receive most of the profits. I could start a sock shop all on my own with the amount of socks Mother thoughtfully gave me for Christmas, but as I'm the only person I can think of who could afford to purchase them, save My Parents, it seems a pointless venture.
Actually, I needn't even sell items. I could create some sort of service. Perhaps I could start a truth detection service. In any case, if I did something along those lines, almost 100 per cent of the profits would go to me, and only a small chunk of change to keep employees going would be cut out.
I generally prefer to keep these things quiet, but it's quite impossible to do so when you're in a position like mine. Tomorrow, as you may or may not know, is my birthday, upon which I shall be turning eighteen and leaving behind that pesky first year spent of age. I suppose this will make me some sort of role model at Hogwarts, being several months older than many of my peers.
In case anyone's wondering why I've decided not to have a celebration for my birthday, I've already planned one for the spring. Why should I be forced to celebrate my birthday alongside New Year's Eve? It's such a dull occasion. I don't see why everyone has to get so excited about counting backward from ten. Yes, congratulations on learning that incredibly useful skill, but since I've been able to do so practically since I lived in a womb, I don't see why everyone must do it once a year just to verify that they can. The only thing monumental that happens at twelve on New Year's Eve is that everyone stops counting and my birthday is over.
At any rate, I've been planning my birthday celebration since August, as I got bored one day and decided to spend my time wisely. Of course, most of you won't be invited, but I'm sure you can start handling your envy now. Perhaps by the time I've everything prepared you shall even be over it. Ha ha ha. That seems rather unlikely, don't you think?
Last evening I saw Potter, who seems to be ridiculously cheerful to the point where it's become vulgar. He's dreadfully insipid sometimes, though I'm certain everyone has noticed, as you'd have to be living under a rock not to have done so. Of course, he's usually insipid due to his general self-pity, so the cheeriness of it was a tad bizarre.
Potter, evidently, felt it quite necessary to see Castle Combe. I don't see why Castle Combe is always being called the nicest village in Wiltshire and England, as for one thing it's Muggle, and for another it's rather drab in comparison to Cosenham. That just goes without saying, as Cosenham is magical, and naturally Malfoy Manor is in Cosenham. If there were anything to Castle Combe, Malfoy Manor would have been built there instead. There's not even anything to do in Castle Combe. Besides, it's not as though I've not been there before. Oh, how charming, let us go and see the pound where animals were kept. Here we have a bridge, and here we have another bridge. You don't see many of those these days, what with bridges being so exciting and unique to earlier centuries.
We went to the White Hart, which seems to be some sort of long-running Muggle pub, though it isn't even as old as the Leaky Cauldron, so I don't see what the fuss is about. However, the presence of all those Muggles made some of us quite uncomfortable, especially when they tried to serve us pie. I do not want pie from a dodgy Muggle establishment. Who knows what they make their pies from? I've heard they use rats for meat.
At least Potter didn't demand I take him to Stonehenge. I don't know why everyone thinks Muggles are better than people give them credit for, when you see they're quite fascinated with rocks. I'm not even exaggerating. They enjoy standing about and staring at rocks as though they're some sort of magical life form. I've certainly never spent my time arranging rocks as a part of a spell, so I really don't see what they think is happening there.
This morning I helped Father decide on a placement for the Egyptian statue I got him for Christmas, as of course we haven't a tomb to place it by.
We're off to Provence on 1 January to see My Grandparents, which unfortunately shall be only a short visit, and then to holiday in the Riviera until I've to return to Hogwarts on 4 January. Mother does enjoy the French air. Father and Mother have been rather content lately, so I assume we shall have a relaxing holiday.
Comments:
| petitemillicent @ 2003-12-30 09:14 am UTC |
So I have to wait till spring to give you your birthday present.
You are an inconvenience, Draco.
M. B.
| potterstinks @ 2003-12-30 03:43 pm UTC |
Why? You don't intend to see me prior to returning to Hogwarts? You can always give me presents twice, you realise.
(parent)