Sunday 24th December 1974
5:20pm
Ravenclaw Dormitories
Oh, the joy of Pre-Yule Ball festivities.
"How's my hair?"
*giggle*
"Just gorgeous Amellina, how's mine?"
*snort*
"better than Charlie's…"
*hysterics*
*glared at by Charlie (me)*
"Umnh… sooo… I heard you were invited to the ball by Sirius? He's so uncouth… but in a sexy way, you know?"
*twitter*
etc etc.
I swear, no human beings should be physically able to giggle that much. You'd think, after four years in Ravenclaw, these girls could be a tad more intellectual. "Wit beyond measure…" and all that jazz.
And there's NOTHING WRONG with my hair. It's, well, red (the shade of such that invites invariably crude nicknames and nicely matches my freckles)… naturally undomesticated and wavy, and about two inches long as of last month.
Ah. The What-could-go-wrong (invariably followed by oh-I'll-show-you-what-can-go-wrong-m'dear) Do-It-Yourself haircut.
Having it waist-length was beginning to annoy me.
I'm… impulsive, you might say.
Or capricious, changeable, emotional, erratic, excitable, explosive, fickle, fiery, forward, headstrong, high-strung, hot-headed, hyper, impatient, inconsistent, irritable, neurotic, ornery, passionate, petulant, rash, reckless, sensitive, thin-skinned, touchy, uncertain, undependable, unpredictable, unreliable, unstable, variable, violent, volatile, wilful or fucking spastic.
Whatever else may be said about Ravenclaws, we know our thesaurus inside out.
Bugger. Time to find my dress robes.
Mantra for tonight: I will not lose my temper or attempt to dance or insult anyone or run around couples making aeroplaynn airo airOplAnn Muggle Flying Device noises or set up a food fight (leave it to those four moronic Gryffindors) or try and hug every Slytherin in the Great Hall or claim that my Patronus is Spyro/a Dalek/ Professor Slughorn or spike the punch (said Gryffindors will have already done that) or claim to have been molested by Peter Pettigrew or take a seat at the Staff Table and claim that I teach Cruel and Unusual Stain Removal for Beginners or…
However, I may…
Actually... no.
Better Not.
Monday 25th December 1974
9:43pm
2nd floor hallway
Finally, my talents have been fully recognised. Tonight, on this most auspicious occasion, I am proud, yes, proud to call myself the first Ravenclaw ever to…
To…
Get expelled from my own house…
Damn.
Just because of that minor incident with the jam… and, oh yes, the ferrets…
umm…
Look Diary, Professor Flitwick can now walk JUST FINE, thankyousoverymuch.
…And I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can fix those first years up in no time…
I've been 're-assigned' to Gryffindor. I shall go down in Hogwarts; a History as the most tragic failure Ravenclaw has ever had the misfortune to spawn. I shall never be able to look anyone in the eye ever, ever again. Excuse me while I jump off the astronomy tower and spare the world my self pity.
(Note to self: no more mantras.)
9:43pm
Too late. Here cometh the welcoming party.
9:44pm
Gryffindor Common Room
IAMGOINGTOJINXSIRIUSBLACKIFHETOUCHESMEAGAIN.
Ah, yes, I would be put into the same house as the Marauders.
In fact, I'm probably the only girl in the school who sincerely doesn't want to be.
I can still hear the rabid screams of every Hogwarts female (and some of the more questionable males, but I don't intend to go there) over Potter, Black, and Lupin. Interestingly enough, one of the house elves seems to have developed an avid obsession with Pettigrew, which is disturbing on far too many levels.
Well, for an accurate definition of these 'Marauders', we have:
James Potter- hopelessly pining for Lily Evans; however a fervid sect of girls chase the idiot in the hopes that, one day, when the rivers run with glitter glue and every Slytherin turns into a rainbow muffin and adopts an abandoned kitty cat, he will give up on his… inventive… methods of Lily seduction and fall for one of them instead. Therefore presumably handsome (although I'm really not one to judge) although his "*twitter* gooooooooorgeously dark hair" could do with a comb and his glasses some sellotape.
Sirius Black- Moron. Delinquent. Self proclaimed sex god of Hogwarts; unfortunately the female students don't argue and he adopts the kind of casual disrespect towards women that can only be pulled off by the undeniably good looking. The fact that none of his relationships have lasted longer than a month should tell you something about this. Not that you, you know, exist or anything. Black is the most horrific and utter prick that Hogwarts has to offer. That bastard is the reason I got reinstated here.
Remus Lupin- the only Marauder with a brain that operates in coherent sentences. The "cute nerd" (I repeat only what I hear. In my opinion he has been tainted by spending unhealthy amounts of time in close proximity to Black) of Gryffindor, who, again, is the centre of yet another feminine religion (although somewhat quieter than Black's or Potter's). Strangely enough, he doesn't encourage it in the least, but is merely "nice to talk to like a friend, and shy, and smart, and quiet… and cute… *dreamy sigh*" (*coughs* *vomits rainbows*). Lupin also has considerable talent in most classes as well as being a Prefect which means that he is the scapegoat of choice to negotiate the others out of detention.
Peter Pettigrew- the Human Shrew. He hangs around the others presumably to acquire and distil some of their prestige and use it as cheap cologne. Pleasant enough I guess, but a bit… creepy… Bamfy the house elf pays veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery close personal attention to him. Need I say more?
They put Peeves to shame.
9:45pm
Gryffindor Girls Dormitories
Oh, for the love of Merlin.
My new Gryffindor dorm mates just happen to be Lily Potter, Michelle Porter, and Robyn Brown. You not being… you know, alive and all, and therefore closed to every scrap of meaningless gossip that floats your way, this means that James Potter is going to spend 80% of his available midnights yodelling Swedish love ballads in order to win the eternal devotion of her soul, Sirius will broadcasting a general message trying to coax out all the girls he hasn't yet humiliated, Pettigrew basking in their glory while avoiding the amoral Bamfy, and Lupin yelling at them to shut the hell up and let everybody get some sleep.
Fun times ahead, huh?
Okay, the low-down on Lily, Michelle and Robyn:
Michelle- very loud and confident. Fantastically curly brown hair, brown skin and brown eyes. Obsessed with the… adult rated… side of life, but is generally quite nice in the depths of that sick mind. Far too interested in obscene details but, Diary, admittedly quite funny.
Robyn- should have been placed in Ravenclaw. Classic French waif, with the whole fair complexion/golden hair/BLUE eyes thing going on, but doesn't care and would much rather read a book than mess around with makeup (instant kinship there)… Or boys… Or, in fact, anything short of a tsunami…
I actually thought she was dead when I entered the room but it turns out that Potter had Petrificus Totalused and Silencioed her until Lily agreed to go out with him (in fact Rowie (…nice nickname *cough*) still can't speak). Michelle mischievously attempted to apply some mascara to Robyn's face and the resultant silent scream was spectacular to behold.
Lily- is gorgeous, actually. Even I can tell that. Long, straight red hair (HUZZAH! GINGERS UNITE!!!) Very green eyes, no freckles (hmph. Frecktacular pride please.) etc etc…
And quite smart, no Rowena Ravenclaw at Transfiguration but apparently fantastic at Potions and in fact most other subjects too. A member of the Slug Club, no less, and a Gryffindor Prefect. Open minded enough to not comment on my hair.
Not that there is anything wrong with my hair.
AT ALL.
9:45pm
IAMNOTGETTINGDEFENSIVE.
10:03pm
Charisma Cordelia Chastity Hope Godwick-Smythe, Pull Yourself Together.
You, diary, are an object. Nothing more.
10:04pm
STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.
10:04pm
…
10:05pm
My full name can probably tell you all you need to know about the state of my parents' sanity.
Is it honestly any wonder I call myself Charlie?
And since you are an inanimate object and therefore cannot comprehend the delicate minutiae of my physical form and boundless mental capacity, I shall enlighten you with a few details you may find interesting…
I'm tallish, I guess, with pale-ish skin and uber-freckles that make me look like a slimeless salamander. My nose is buttony. I can't be bothered stuffing my bra which combined with the hair has caused me to be mistaken for a guy enough times to no longer give a damn.
A good looking guy though, I like to think.
My only redeeming features are my eyes, pale grey and lustrous like glass diamonds.
Sometimes glass shines brighter than diamonds because it has more to prove.
Damn I'm tired.
These Beds are softer than the Ravenclaw dorm's and I can't sleep.
11:08pm
Oh, and by the way
Merry Christmas.
Tuesday 26th December 1974
5:28pm
Great Lake
Well. This morning was interesting.
Michelle burst into the room screaming
