A/N: Me no own. Quick notes about this story- it's already written out, so it will be updated semiweekly, depending on how long revising chapters takes. Also, because this site doesn't like strikethroughs, crossed out lines will be formatted -like this- (there aren't too many). Thank you for reading and hope you'll review!

This is dumb.

McGonagall is crazy if she think

No, that statement needs repeating. This. is. dumb.

I hate this.

I'm not going to write anything. I refuse.

This is so stupid. I'm not writing another thing until the end of this stupid, undeserved, prat-filled detention.


Okay, McGonagall is glaring at me, so maybe I should actually write something. But I refuse to write what she actually wants me to talk about. Frickety. Oddball. Quidditch. Weird words. Oh, good, I should talk about the extra credit research paper Slughorn's having me do. Maybe make this detention actually useful. A Polyjuice Potion is made while combining the ingredients of fluxweed, knotgrass, lacewing flies, leeches, and a few other things that I can't remember. It is used for transforming into another person, but, if contaminated with animal or halfbreed hair, can result in a painful partial transformation that will last for much longer than normal. Hah! Just try and stop me, McGonagall, I'm turning this dumb, Pottery detention into something helpful!

Although I won't be able to actually take this parchment out of the room, will I? Bugger. I was really feeling in the mood to write about Potions, or anything but that arrogant toerag with a chip the size of Scotland on his shoulder. I don't need to release my anger by writing a letter to him and then not sending it, McGonagall, I can release my anger by hexing his stupid face until it's full of Quaffle-sized pimples.

Huh. That argument might actually work. Not the Quaffle-sized pimples part, the I've-already-released-my-anger part. Because I've already done the Quaffle-sized pimples part. Ha. Ha ha. Hold on, I'm going to go ask McGonagall.

Sigh. I talked to her and she said that while it was a valid point, "hexing Mr. Potter, however much feeling you put into it, is not an appropriate form of releasing your anger." I could hear the bloody prat snickering behind me, I almost pulled out my wand and hexed him again but I knew I'd lose any chance of being Head Girl if I did that. And then, to make things worse, McGonagall told me she would be reading my letter after I was done. Reading it? READING it? I thought this was supposed to be private, let-my-feelings-out time! No one should be reading this letter but me! But anyways, it put me in the embarrassing position of having to ask for another piece of parchment (because I doubt she'll want to read this mess), which of course made McGonagall raise her eyebrow in that dreaded I-disapprove-of-this motion, and also made Potter snicker even harder. (Can you snicker harder? Is that the phrase?) And then, on the way back to my seat, he said, "I'd pay to read that letter, Evans. Need another sheet to show how much you love me?"

Only McGonagall's glare kept me from doing or saying anything back. I'm going to hex him for that later.

Okay. Starting the new parchment now. Let's hope this works.