Even though I don't have to write about any of my days of toil in order to stay established in this project, I will for those who I haven't seen for donkeys', and want to know all the details of my existence. THAT MEANS YOU PRONGS.
While doing my best not to go out and strangulate Malfoy and Snape with my shoelaces for that awful scuffle back in school, I've held my promise to Lily -- I haven't sought either of them out yet, and as long as they behave perhaps I won't need to. I have a very bad feeling stirring in my stomach about things though. On consideration though, maybe that's just my indigestion again. [Private] Maybe this meeting with James has got something to do it. The DE's I mean, not the indigestion. I know Marlene said something about Malfoy. I'll find out soon anyway. [/Private]
But, the week I spent back in Hogwarts was overturned down from two weeks to just the one because of someone - in all likelihood James's dad - having a word with Dumbledore. And I don't know what he said, or how he did it, but guess who's dad is getting a box of sugar cookies sent to him (once I have enough money when my account in Gringotts has stopped replacing the Dead Sea as The Lowest Point On Earth). It was mainly days of wandering around the empty corridors of Hogwarts on my own with nothing but Filch as company, wearing a handkerchief around my head to keep my hair out of my eyes while I cleaned laboriously. The divine light at the end of that long dark tunnel only ever turned out to be the caretaker with a candle bringing me another bucket of water to mop the floor with. The Ministry has passed regulations about less cruel punishments than that, I swear.
My house is glorious. It hasn't got a driveway the size of a muggle motorway, nor more pillars than the acropolis, but it's perfect for me. Jasmine was there when I arrived, painting away, scaring me with impressions of Narcissa. Nightmares, I can tell you. My bedroom, while we're on the subject, is a tad bare. It needs something. Pictures. Posters. A lamp. Maybe a lovely lady or two sat on either bedpost -- Volunteers, anyone?
James and Andie were my very first guests. Glee. Lily dragged me off for some 'needed' shopping. Yes, shopping. And someone back me up when I say that Quidditch bed-sheets are the utmost height of fashion? The bathroom set is great, with the little glass where the snitch flies around the rim of it once you put your toothbrush in there. I've had to lock Jas (aka that ball of fluff aka that cat) out of the room because she starts chasing it, falling into the bathtub and all Hell breaks loose, especially when Lootsy joins in. Don't even ask about Lootsy, because whatever the question is, I really won't know the answer. Despite all that though, I am not a changed man. I still can't cook (unless toast is featured delicacy these days) nor (apparently) have a keen sense of how to furnish a house. I'll learn it, even it means burning the place down before realising that that wasn't quite the right charm to use for that item.
As for the Apparation test? Awful. Rubbish. Shameworthy. Failed. Just. Crashed. Literally, into someone else. Didn't fuse my limbs into theirs, but I'm having a retest soon. They're going to be sending me an owl, which I'm awaiting eagerly, as well as a ridiculous hat and some more visits from my favourite people.
And dost my eyes decieve me, or did I see Gideon Prewett TOTALLY ARSE NAKED IN DIAGON ALLEY?! AHAHAHAHA!