...and, to cap it all, I had to start a ten inch Care of Magical Creatures essay on the life habits of a manticore.

Fortunately, Hagrid had decided to forgo the practical with that particular lesson. At least, that’s what he told us. I was more inclined to believe that the Ministry had managed to stop him importing the manticore.

 “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t see you to your room?” he mocked, bowing. I raised my eyebrows.

“A... normal one?”

“Seriously, Lily. Please allow me to escort you back to your humble abode."
 
 

 Dad is downstairs, in his study, away from me, so I’m good. Of course I’m avoiding him- what kind of question is that? I’m going out with some muggle mates of mine soon. I don’t even like them- I just want rid of him.

He needs to take a shower. He’s stinky.

Joking! (but seriously, he permanently stinks of Old Man and Regret)

 “Are you really trying to make me sympathise with pancakes right now?”

 “But you shouldn’t be doing spells in the corridor,” I sighed, glancing at his jumper. “I’m going to be forced to give Slytherin ten points.”

“Erm, give..?”

“What-an-unfortunate-slip-of-the-tongue-I’m-never-going-to-be-able-to-rectify-okay-well-thank-you-bye!”