Do you how many cups of coffee I've had? Twelve! TWELVE!
I think I had a minor heart attack between cups seven and eight. My hand is shaking quite badly. Is there anything you can do to stop a caffeine overdose, I wonder? Nevermind. I'm feeling quite productive so I think I shall work on preparing my insults for Harry Potter so that I'll be good and ready come September.
Harry Potter Insult List Year Five!
The Boy Who Wears Annoyingly Shaped Glasses And Thinks He's Better Than Everyone Else
You know what? Forget it. These are not very good at all. I'll work on this later. I really have to pee, anyway.
Later that Day
What I'm really upset about is not the poor quality of my insults this year, it's that I've been on summer holiday for six weeks now and not one of my so called friends has stopped in for a visit. Crabbe's away at fat camp (God knows, he goes every summer and comes back fatter each year), Goyle's been sent to his grandparent's place in Sweden, Snape's working on his manuscript and Pansy and "her girls" have gone to Cancun for tanning or some such nonsense. As if you can't tan in England.
Well, actually, you can't right now. It's been raining for almost two weeks. It's storming quite dramatically right this very moment.
I would never admit this to anyone because the showing off emotions is below me, but I'm lonely. I feel this strange aching in my heart, and it just won't go away. I tried taking aspirin and using numbing spells but nothing seems to help. I actually kind of miss having Pansy around. She's an awful bore and a terrible kisser, but at least of she were here we could go down to Hogsmeade and make fun of people together.
SIGH. All alone and two more months of vacation to go.
Aunt Bellatrix is here for a weekend visit. Good God, she's loony. Her and mum have been down in the blue parlor talking all afternoon and all she does is ramble about "her Voldie" and how they're planning a splendid getaway for next month because he's so terribly stressed out with all this murdering bloodtraiters and stalking Potter business. She's out of her mind. Last time we hosted a gala event for He Who Shall Not Be Blah Blah and his supporters, he barely even glanced at Bellatrix, and believe me, that was a feat because she was literally wearing see-through robes and nipple pasties shaped like the dark mark.
I snuck into her guest suite while she was downstairs with father and mother to see if she had any liquor stashed in her bags (she does- three bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey) and guess what? She has an entire bag filled with pregnancy tests and ovulation charts and a book called 'How to get Pregnant With An Evil Overlord's Illegitimate Devil-Spawn'. All right, I made up that last bit, but seriously? Sex with Voldemort? Barf! He doesn't even have a nose!
I took one bottle of firewhiskey from Bellatrix's things and replaced it with a shampoo bottle that I transmuted. Hopefully she doesn't try to drink my shampoo before I get a chance to get a few sips of firewhiskey and put the bottle back because that's my very favorite shampoo and I have to go all the way to Madame Primrose's House of Style in Wiltshire to get it. It makes my hair so soft. Like a newborn unicorn.
Okay, maybe I've had more than a few sips of firewhiskey. I should probably go put it back.
Draco Update Two
And another thing! He doesn't even- He didn't shake my hand that time and I was only trying to be nice! I offer my friendship and what, all of a sudden I'm the bad guy? How? What? Why did I become the villain here? Why did I have to get turned into a ferret, huh? I don't even look like one! There are other animals I more closely resemble, like the mighty gazelle.
Draco Update Three
We're more of rivals than anything, you know? Not really mortal enemies. I mean, I think He Who Shall not Be Named (aka Voldemort) has got that title locked down.
I just think that if Potter gave me a chance, he'd see that I'm not so bad. I've got a lot to offer. I'm clever and my hair is shiny and my stories are funny. Pansy says my stories are funny. WHY HASN'T THAT BITCH WRITTEN ME ALL SUMMER? DOES SHE THINK I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON?
Draco Update Infinity
I think I'm going to write him a letter. He we go:
Why do you hate me so much, huh? Am I that bad of a guy? No. I'm not. And you know what? You're not that bad of a guy either. So maybe we should let bygones be bygones and get on with things. Maybe we could even be friends! I've got tickets to a Quidditch match in August- do you want to go? I was going to ask Goyle but that soddy git hasn't called on me even once this summer so you know what? Done-zo. I'm giving his ticket to you. We'll see what he thinks about that.
I know you might not trust me. You might even think this letter is some kind of joke. I know I may seem to you to be a cold, immoral, daddy-pleasing jerk, but that's not who I really am deep down inside. So here's a list of the top five reasons you should give me a second chance:
You and I have a lot in common: we're good looking, we both play Quidditch, and neither of us is a Muggle.
I've been told I'm a good dancer.
3. We're the same size, so we could trade clothes.
4. I make really good cappuccinos. I'll make you one if you come over.
5. One word: Great Ass.
So in short, please stop hating me. The sexual tension is killing me. Write back.
Your friend (wink!),
Oh God, why am I covered in owl poop? Where are my trousers? WHY IS IT SO BRIGHT IN HERE?
I'm hungover. It hurts to think. Told Mum I have the flu but she insisted I go shopping with her and Bellatrix. I threw up in a dressing stall and I have this unshakable feeling that that's not the least dignified thing I've done today.
Why are there a bunch of pages torn out of my journal? What the hell did I do last night?