AN/Disclaimer/Etc. – Hogwarts and its inmates belong to JK Rowling. I've just borrowed the world and some characters for a fan fiction. Hope you enjoy it. X3
Dear Reader-Types,
Welcome to my diary. Journal. Whatever. You hold in your hands a very important historical document, as through this chronicle you will catch a glimpse into the life of Britain's brightest flower. Yes, I am speaking of none other than that darling, witty, noble, alluring, and all around absobloodylutely fabulous girl, Aretha Pole.
These pages will contain an extensive and meaningful documentary of my fifth year at Hogwarts, that illustrious school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…my trials, my tribulations, my joys, my triumphs, everything. That's right, everything. From important events such as my dealings with Sirius Black and his band of scalawags right down to the simple things like applying lippy in the little girls' room. So if you are brave of heart and (not quite) sound of mind, this is a read you cannot possibly pass up.
XOXOXO and lots of love.
-Retha
- - -
August 31st
Evening: nine o'clockers
Milady's boudoir (my room, you ninny)
Fol-dee-rol-dee-la, and cuckoo also! Summer dwindles to a close and I have only about twelve hours of torture left before my parents mercifully ship me off to that wonderful institution known as boarding school. Whoever came up with the idea of taking children away and letting them live without parental supervision two thirds of the year should get a medal. Tra-la-la-la-la it's even worth the bloody homework! Soon I will be free…free! No more Nutter Mum flitting into my room (without knocking, I might add) at all hours of the night and day, nagging me to do this or that or spend some quality time with my family.
The whole point of summer is to have fun with your mates, not slave away at dreary old housework. Mum says I have it backwards…that school is the place to have fun with your mates…but I disagree, because whenever I try to have fun at school I always get in trouble and where is the fun in that, I ask you? No where, that is where. You can't have real fun with that creepy Pringle caretaker person running about the corridors, hanging students up by their thumbs and what not.
But I digress…the point is that I am returning to Hogwarts, the question is what shall I wear?
Hmmm…must consult wardrobe.
9:04
Could wear the blue mini with my new halter-top…but mum would most likely have an epileptic fit, so I s'pose that's out. Ho-hum.
9:10
Yesss…yesss! Have got it! Will wear my bellbottoms and that lurvely pink tunic-blouse-thing with the white pattern thingy. Will look absobloodylutely smashing. Yessss.
9:12
Only cannot find trainers. Hummm…now where have they gone off too?
9:14
Not in bottom of closet. Perhaps they have disappeared under the bed?
9:15
Negative, Sherlock. Now, if I were a pair of trainers, where would I hide? Hmmm…
9:16
Oof! Fell over. OH! Here they are on my feet! I wonder how they got there? Oh well. As they say…trainers move in mysterious ways, their wonders to perform. Well, it's off to Bedfordshire for me. Abysinnia!
XOXOXO
-Retha
- - -
September 1st
Morning: 7 o'clockers
Milady's Automobile (Mum's car)
Ugh, bugger it, and triple GAH!
Mum flitted into my room bright and early this morning at the most ungodly hour: 6 o'clock! In the AM! And she was all bright and cheery! At 6 o'clock! Doesn't she know normal people do not arise before 7:30 at the very, very least? Let alone the fact that it is positively IMMORAL to be anything but irritable before ten! But then, my mum was never normal, was she?
And what about my beauty sleep? She KNOWS I need at least ten hours of sleep every night! I have these huge bags under my eyes...or, rather, I did, until she fixed them with her wand. I refused, however, to allow her to do a glam spell for me, and applied my make up myself - muggle fashion - to avoid looking like an old hat.
Honestly, mums just don't understand these things.
I must say that aside from feeling like a zombie, I do look rather chic. Not that I am precisely sure what the word chic means, but it is generally taken as a compliment so I assume it's something good. And why is it spelled c-h-i-c but pronounced "sheik"? Bah, who cares? No one understands French people anyway, they're all nutters. (Chic IS a French word, isn't it? Or is it Spanish? Oh well, they're practically the same thing really, all obsessed with ancient statues and finding Mount Olympus...or is that the Greeks? Well, I mean, who bloody cares? It's not as if anyone else knows either.)
8:04
Still in the blasted car, though we're now in London, thank Merlin, and nearly almost at the station.
Baby sister Cassie (second year Ravenclaw, bloody annoying and almost never shuts up about boring things like books and school and what not) woke up a little while ago and has just asked me what I miss most about Hogwarts. I, of course, replied "the boys" with this aloof, sophisticated, you-wouldn't-understand-you're-just-a-silly-child expression that was completely lost on her. She made a face and turned to look out the window.
Ah, young and innocent Cassie! Beware, for sometime in the not-so-distant future you shall forsake the cootie-fearing ways of old and join the ranks of The Smitten!
Mum (who was, of course, listening in on our Confidential and Very Private conversation) asked me which boys I missed, and I said all of them. She shook her head, mum like. "Teenagers."
I do miss all of them, so why shouldn't I say so? And well, I mean, what's not to miss? The Gryffindor boys and their daring, dashing, courageous selves! The shy and oh-so-adorable Hufflepuffs! The Ravenclaws with their cool intellect and mysterious aloofness! The Slytherins and their - no wait, I suppose there really isn't anything I miss about the Slytherins.
Ho-hum, here's the station, must fly!
XOXOXO
-Retha
- - -
Still September the First
Round about 3 o'clockers in the afty
Milady's Locomotive (Hogwarts Express, for the more brainless of you reader-types)
Radical, groovy, and triple fab. Oh, la la la didy da da da! Yessss...this may very well be the most fabbity fab fab fab day of my young life.
"Why?" You may very well be asking yourself. "Why is this day so positively groovy? What has happened to put mature, sensible Aretha Pole into such a state?"
"Well," I would say readily enough, "I'll tell you." And then I would.
Only not just now as the snack cart has just gone by. I really rather fancy some chocolate frogs, you know. Yummmm. Tootle-oo!
xoxoxo
3:15
All right, and now I am back, the hull (my pockets) filled to the brim with loot (sweets). And therefore, now that my hunger has been satisfied, I will attempt to feed your curiosity and tell you about the glorious thing that has happened.
Only first you must guess.
…
3:16
Well, come on then! Guess!
…
3:17
Just a little guessy? One ickle wickle guessy-guess?
…
3:20
Oh fine. Be that way.
Since you, as a collection of bits of paper with words all over them, are an inanimate object and therefore absolute rot at guessing games, I shall tell you all about it.
Well, let me see now, where did I leave off? Oh yes. We finally arrived at the station and, after all the embarrassing goodbye hugs and speeches and warnings that Mums generally give, I finally escaped my loony relations and made my way onto the train. After searching compartments high, searching compartments low, and even some compartments in between, I finally found The Right Compartment.
You see, my feet were just about to fall off from all the walking up and down, and my eyes were just to pop out from all the searching, when I opened a door and found myself face to face with my best mates, squealing at me in greeting.
Oh! It did my heart good to see them. I even went all teary as we all did our Secret Four-Person Handshake, though I did not, of course, actually cry as that might jeopardize my mascara's safety. Also crying makes your nose all red in a v. unattractive manner.
Anyway, I was soon installed quite comfortably in our compartment, and we had a nice, long chat while we touched up our lippy and hair and all that girly-girly stuff that we girlies do. I had just finished adjusting my false bazoomas to make sure they at least appeared somewhat authentic (there is, after all, only so much you can do with tissue…however, more on my bazoomas later, right now I am telling you what happened), when the compartment door opened again…
And in walked Sirius Black and James Potter.
No, I am not lying. I assure you that I am, in fact, being quite truthful in this instance. They just waltzed right in (well, not literally waltzed, as how silly would it be to waltz on the train?) and stood at attention on either side of the door. Us girls just stared, our eyebrows flying up, but one does not question Marauders, because…well I don't really know why. One just doesn't question them.
Just as I felt that I would burst with curiosity…they raised their arms and played on invisible trumpets, making the sound with their mouths. It was that sort of…Here Comes So-And-So, The Great and Mighty tune, and when they had finished, Remus Lupin walked in looking all serious and whatnot.
"Presenting his Royal Highness Peter Pettigrew," he said, and stepped aside as Peter entered, wearing a false crown-type thing. He traipsed up to Maya (Maya Dhanshuk, my best pally-wally in the entire…what's-it) and bowed low, almost falling over, with a lot of fancy flourishes and whatnot. Maya's face was red, red, red and she looked about to explode with delight. Sunny, Felicia, and I exchanged glances, wriggling our eyebrows. Did I detect a hint of romance in the air? Though why she should choose Pettigrew to admire I am sure I don't know. Oh, he's a nice enough boy…and quite tolerable in the looks department, if a bit on the lumpy side. But he just doesn't have that extra…oomph…that his friends have. A sort of…confidence mixed with mischief and a hint of the mysterious. So while Peter is all right in the ordinary way…he just doesn't sparkle.
And you know me…I never set my sights below the magnificent, ridiculous and foolish as it may be. But Maya's different…and she is kind of on the quiet-shy side, so I suppose I can see how Peter might appeal to her.
Anyway, as I said, Peter did this sort of flourishy-falling-over-bow, and smiled at my blushing, beaming friend. "Lady Maya," he said to her, quite seriously, "might I and my companions, unworthy wretches that we are, have the immense honor and privilege to bask in your magnificent presence for a while?"
Well, no one ever said that the Marauders were quite sane, despite their attractiveness, so really he can't be blamed for his extreme cliché-ness. Maya thought it was positively adorable, I could see, and of course said yes.
The boys dropped their whole King And Servants act, and plopped down onto the seats with us, and quite suddenly I found myself sitting next to…and here it comes, the glorious part…Sirius Black.
Pardon me whilst I let out a girlish squeal.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Ahem. And now I am finished.
So. Yes. Sirius Black. Sitting next to me. Well, as you can imagine, I was all a flutter and whatnot. Who wouldn't be? There was I, plain, ordinary (but quite sophisticated) Aretha Pole, minding my own business, and then suddenly Sirius Black chooses to sit next to little old me. AND…his knee sort of accidentally-but-might've-been-on-purpose knocked into MY knee, which was quite nice, and sitting so close to him (as it was a bit crowded, what with eight people occupying one compartment) I could smell that he smelled sort of…minty and fresh and clean and just…nice.
You may insert a dreamy sounding sigh here, reader-types. Le siiiiiigh…life is rather wonderful, isn't it?
XOXOXO
-A very contented Aretha
- - -
September the First once moreFive o'clockish
Still Milady's Locomotive Compartment
The girls are all chatting about The Boys, now that they have left to do whatever it is that they do. We have just finished wheedling information out of Maya. It seems that she and Peter bumped into each other several times over the summer holidays, and became as friendly as two what's-its. She also admitted, after several more minutes of teasing, flattery, and coaxing that she quite fancies him, but isn't sure how he feels about her.
Well, I mean, honestly. How dense can you get? The bloke makes a loon of himself wearing a false crown and she isn't sure if he fancies her or not. Honestly, what is the world coming to?
Anyway, as I said, they are discussing their previous run-ins with the Marauder-boys, but I am remaining mysteriously aloof, because it is not very sophisticated to sit around talking about boys.
Oh, all right. Really it is because I have not had any very interesting run-ins with them, unless you count that time in second year when I accidentally spilled a bottle of ink all down James's front and new favorite shirt and he retaliated by pulling my hair and stomping on my toe.
Not exactly the type of thing that makes for a scintillating discussion, you see.
Oh, bugger it, will this train ride never end?
- - -
September the FirstSometime Later because who can be bothered with watches when one is as excited as this?
Milady's Hogwarts
School at last! Hoorah! Hoorah! I am off the train and into the castle, and OH is it wonderful to be back! Hogwarts is the most fabulous and groovy place in the entire what's-it. I almost cried with gladness when I saw dear old Bob, the Giant Squid.
Look out Hogwarts, the girls are back!
XOXOXO and lots of luuuuurve,
Aretha
