| la_pensee @ 2002-08-13 02:42:00 |
The More Things Stay the Same
My mother wrote me a few days ago, only she thought I still was at Beauxbatons (despite me telling her differently last week) and sent our owl slightly astray. Her letter was as usual, without any obvious verbal barbs but nonetheless filled with emotional poison.
She tells me, "I think it would be best if you took on some secretarial courses during the summer," as if I am fit to do nothing more than transcribe the dictations of another and prepare someone their morning coffee. But it is what the majority of Slytherin girls do, after all, we marry men or we aspire to serve them in other ways. I, for one, will not be among that lot. I'm sure Millicent would understand. My mother, however, does not as she was one of that particular majority. She is disappointed she informs me. I am lacking in any realistic goals.
"This infatuation you have with the ministry concerns me. When you were seven, I was so impressed by your maturity. You were already talking of plans to marry a man of good social repute and established wealth. It was such a concrete aspiration for the future. Whatever in the world caused you to change your mind, darling? Surely it was not that unfortunate incident with the Malfoys! For if that is the case, perhaps you should write them a letter of apology. Although, it is really too bad that you have ruined any chance of landing that Malfoy boy."
I am seriously considering finding the name of that French cosmetologist that the Beauxbatons girl gave me, so I can rid myself of my mother's nose for good. She has stuck it once too often in my affairs. At least, she has not suggested that she visit me this weekend. I am not sure I could handle her presence with any grace.
But I have complained enough. I will talk of simpler things.
I have been back at hogwarts almost a week, and of course, I have found that very little has changed in my absence. Professor Black and Professor Snape continue to fight, Professor McGonagall still prowls the hallways at nights to make after curfew meanderings more difficult, and classes run smoothly except when Gryffindors and Slytherins are put together.
Today, during Care of Magical Creatures, Ron Weasley attacked Draco, which I thought was simply ghastly behaviour on his part. If there is one thing you learn as a Slytherin, it is that you never set out to do anything that will land you the blame. He did not even try not to get caught.
Worse, though, was Draco's predicament. I felt ever so badly for him because all the rest of the class could do was laugh and laugh when they saw him covered in clabbert dung. He did look quite ridiculous, but who wouldn't in such a situation? I, for one, did offer Draco the use of some of my raspberry scented bath oils before he left to clean himself off but he refused. (We have not been associating much since my return, however, perhaps that is for the best considering that Professor Lupin has suggested in his journal that Draco may never get the "distinctive aroma of Clabbert out of his robes." Robes are not the only thing it has a tendency to linger on. Fortunately hair grows and may be cut off, and skin sheds quite frequently.)
I wish people would be a little more forgiving of Professor Snape in regards to the Harry Potter situation. He is really such an impeccable example of the teachers here at hogwarts. So often professors take no active interest in their students, yet here is one doing all he can to help be involved and correct a problem.
However, it is much too late and I can no longer think straight and I do have class tomorrow. But do you know what I think? I think that Hufflepuff boy, the one we all like to label as overreacting and overly paranoid, has hit upon many truths regarding present situations. Perhaps he is our local Cassandra.
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