I have to say that I love the encouragement you're giving me; it keeps me
writing, be sure of that.
I want to give a shout-out to my shipping buddies at HMS Overworked & Underappreciated; you guys rock. Don't worry; your ship will make appearances, but only in the second and third part. Blaise is just a bit too self-centric right now.
********'
"Let me break into a puzzle
Fall out of the box
Put myself together
Piece by piece"
-Puzzle Pieces, by Rini
*******'
I'm a vampire. Or at least I think I am. Let's list the evidence; one, I hate sunlight, two, I'm allergic to garlic, three, I nearly always dress in black, and did I mention I despise sunlight? Draco woke me up at fife- thirty in the morning! Did you know that there are many, many, many ways to kill a peroxide-blonde, snobbish boy? I think I shall write a book about it when I graduate..nah, too much work.
There was a booming knock on my door, at exactly five-twenty seven in the morning, and I couldn't avoid waking up. I swear, I was blinded by that godforsaken sun. I know there were tribes several hundred years ago who worshipped the sun, but trust me, they didn't know what they were doing. They really, really didn't. I was just about to turn over and fall asleep again when the door flew open. I buried my head in the pillow and prayed to whatever deity was listening to send a lighting bolt at the early risers of the world.
"Wakey, wakey, Blaise!" I voice practically chirped from the doorway.
My only reply was a pillow singling through the air and landing squarely on his head. My aim is good, even when almost fully asleep. I curled up on the now bare mattress, mumbling half-formed curse words and nonsensical sentences, happy that I had staved off the heathen early riser.
"Damn moron..mimblewimble.hellish..damn light."
I'm not very coherent while more than half asleep. Scratch that; I'm not coherent until after my first cup of coffee. By the by, that wonderful brown liquid sounds like a good idea right now. Coffeeeee..
"Now, you know it's going to take more than a pillow to get rid of me!" Draco had now moved across the room and was standing at my side, talking in my ear, "You have to get up; we're going shopping today!"
I had contemplated killing Draco before, but when the thought hit me this time, I dismissed it immediately; too many witnesses. And besides, I was too tired to deal with the task that was killing someone. Instead, I gave in and climbed out of bed. I looked around the bedroom for whatever clothes I could find, and finally picked up a pair of faded black jeans and pulled them on. I buckled them up with a belt that was too long, and then pulled on my old black Sex Pistols t-shirt. It's not very normal for a wizard to have a Sex Pistols t-shirt, but I found it in my dad's wardrobe, as far in as possible. Apparently, he was a teenage rebel.
After gathering up my book list from the desk, I set off out the door, in my daily quest for coffee. After coffee, I might be able to focus on the next thing that would be going to Diagon Alley, but only after coffee.
******'
I confess; I slept through most of the ride to London. As the Parkinson's are way too snobbish to travel through Floo Powder, we had to take the long way there. This meant carriage rides, and a shortcut through the magical parts of some village near the Parkinson place. I never bothered to learn the name of it, as it isn't important. I did snore extra loud just to annoy Mrs Parkinson though, as I was bored, and she's easy to annoy, almost pathetically so.
I wouldn't say that Diagon Alley is my favourite place on earth; I dislike crowds immensely, and there is always a lot of people there, but there's something about that place that makes me want to stay there. Maybe it's something in the water. I don't know, but either way I found myself with a smile on my face as we stepped through the wall. I wasn't listening as Mrs Parkinson gave us instructions for when, where and how we were expected to behave ourselves, and instead stood staring off in the distance with a rather dumb look on my face. I'm good at acting dumb; it can get you a lot of things, which is why I perfected it early on.
Aware that I had some sort of deadline, although not entirely sure what it was, I wandered off into the crowds, heading vaguely in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. I felt the weight of my booklist in my pocket, and whistled as I went, quite happy with the situation. Of course, everything looks better after a cup of coffee. Caffeine has always worked to brighten up my day.
I pushed the door open, still whistling, and pulled the booklist out of my pocket after dodging a few people who were coming out of the store. I decided to get the easy ones first; Arithmancy and Transfiguration were always in the front of the store, and I saw no reason for it to be different this year. Not bothering to look up, trusting that everyone would get out of my way, I walked further into the store. I trusted people's common sense in getting out of the way of a rather tall boy without bothering him, but apparently I should have read humanity's manual a little better.
I had nearly reached the stack of Advanced Guide to Transfiguration books when I stumbled over someone and nearly fell down. I managed to catch myself just in time, but the person I ran into was mercilessly knocked over and fell to the floor with a resounding thump. I looked up from my booklist, ready to apologize, but stopped immediately, as the sight before me was rather surprising. On the floor, books in a circle around her, was Granger, the single most annoying girl in the world. How Potter and Weasley are able to stand her, I'll never know.
She glared up at me, clearly angry that I had somehow sabotaged her day or something, as it is all Gryffindors' way to assume Slytherins are horrible conspirators. However, I matched her glare for glare, and waited for her to get out of my way. Had it been anyone else, I would have helped them up, but as it was Granger, I decided that she could held herself up if she was even half as smart and capable as the teachers painted her. Suits her to have to work for something.
"Watch where you're going," She snapped, glaring at me.
I snorted. Watch where I am going? If she had not been nose-deep in some book about astrophysics, she would have seen me coming and would have been able to avoid me. Of course, I could have avoided her as well, but that was not the point. Besides, she deserved to be knocked over every once in a while.
"And so should you," I replied.
She got up off the floor and prepared to launch into some self-righteous rant about Slytherins, but I ignored her and snatched a book from the pile and walked away. I wasn't in the mood for confrontations with annoying Gryffindors, no matter how much coffee I'd had. I needed to get my books as quick as possible, so that I might get some ice cream as Fortescue's before our deadline. Some supplies for my Silver Arrow might come in handy as well, and that would take some time to get too.
Ten minutes later, I was at the back of the store, looking for the Defence book. It proved hard to find, and when I finally did, it was at the top of the shelf, forcing me to put all my books on the floor to reach up for it. I managed to grasp it with my fingertips, which was unusual for me, due to my height and all. Deciding to be nice for once, I pulled out a few more books from the shelf and put them on a lower one, thinking that Draco and the girls might get them later, if they were even taking Defence. I didn't know, but even if they weren't, I might have helped some stranger out. Out of character for me, yes, but I blame the early rising for that one.
I paid for my purchases, and walked out of the store, heading for the ice cream parlour. Broom supplies could wait for another day, and I was really curious about the sixth year curriculum. Slowly eating my chocolate ice cream, I flipped through the Defence book. Pictures of many odd and sometimes outright disgusting creatures came into view, as well as descriptions of different curses. It seemed sixth year would be interesting.
"Are you finished yet?"
I was jerked out of my thoughts by the abrupt question, and looking up, I discovered the Gryffindor wonder trio looking at me from atop their own ice cream portions. I raised an eyebrow, and then looked down at my plate of ice cream, which was nearly filled still. I had to marvel at the stupidity of the three.
"Do I look finished?" I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice and failing miserably.
"No," Weasley said, "But you need to move."
"I fail to see a reason," I replied, looking around me, "As there are many other tables vacant, there are many other places for you to sit and eat your ice cream. Thus, we have solved the problem. You are welcome to leave at any time you wish."
"This is our table, Slytherin," Weasley said angrily, aided by Potter's despising look, "You're moving right now."
By now, I was starting to lose my patience. I was not angry, but so annoyed that half of it would be enough. Weasley and Potter kept glaring at me, clearly expecting me to move because they told me to. But if they had come looking for an easy fight, they would have to go elsewhere. I had chosen this table and then I would damn well keep this table.
"I shan't," I said, deliberately wording it as complicated as possible, "Because I believe, correct me if I am wrong, that I arrived here before you did, and claimed this table as mine. I was not informed that it belonged to you, nor do I believe it does. Therefore, I shall keep the table, and you shall go elsewhere. Understood?"
Weasley was about to drop his plate and lunge at me, when Potter grabbed the back of his robes and dragged him away, apparently deciding that today was not a day for confrontations. Granger remained for a moment, sending me a weird look, looking like she was about to apologize, which would have been nice, but then she turned on her heels and left. I raised my eyebrow, but went back to my books and ate my ice cream in peace.
******'
My spoon was resting against my now empty plate, and I was quite engrossed in my Defence book when Draco and the girls finally showed up. Millicent was looking mighty bored, but Pansy had the dazed look that comes from too much shopping. I rolled my eyes. If anyone knows how to shop till they drop, Pansy's that girl. Draco was looking pretty suffering too, and collapsed in the chair next to me, groaning out something about how painful shopping was.
"Have you gotten your books?" I asked, grinning.
"Yes," Draco sighed, "And a million other things as well. You have no idea how many things fit into a single bag, even without magic. You really don't."
"You forget, Draco," I kept grinning, "I have been forced to accompany my mother on her shopping trips, and there are few things I do not know about shopping bags. She can shop until her money runs out, and then go at least another hour."
Draco sent me a horrified look, Millicent smirked, and Pansy giggled. I leaned back with a superior smirk on my face; I had one yet another of Draco's and mine confrontations. Not that that's hard or anything; Draco most often speaks without thinking, making it a whole lot easier to win than it rightfully should have been.
"I pity you, you poor soul," Draco reached over and patted my head, "It must have been a nightmare."
"Yeah," I agreed readily, "As was running into the Gryffindor gang earlier."
"Potter?" Draco's eyes flashed. They always do when Potter comes up, I've noticed.
"Yeah, and Weasley and Granger." I nodded, "The only bright part was knocking Granger over by accident and watching her explode. Well, she didn't explode, as such, but she came pretty damned close."
"I'd have paid to see that!" Draco laughed, "She deserves it!"
After a round of laughter, I leaned back further in my chair and listened to them talk. On the whole, despite encounters with Gryffindors, overprotective mothers and crowds, it had been a good day. I had gotten the books I needed, I had indulged in some chocolate ice cream, and all was well with the world.
*******'
There are few things that fascinate me as much as Defence Against the Dark Arts. The sheer magnitude of spells and curses are enough to drive me mad trying to remember them. The dark creatures might be interesting, but the magical aspect, the technical spells and the complicated wards and so on were much more interesting in my opinion. It's a challenge trying to get them right, and I have never been able to resist challenges. It has got something to do with the Slytherin psyche, I believe.
I was lying on my bed, engrossed in my Defence book. As it was the teachers who put together the booklist, I was getting more and more curious about our new Defence teacher. The book was not good, nor was it passable; it was outright awesome. Even though Defence is my favourite subject, I never could have imagined the dept of the subject before reading this book. Any teacher who put such a book on the list had to be better than Umbridge. We might even have gotten Lupin back. Now that would be a dream come true; Lupin was the one Defence teacher I ever really liked. The fake Mad-Eye, while giving interesting lessons, had a faint sense of creepiness about it that made me freak out.
Yes, I am very temperamental, and can easily have breakdowns, but only when I allow myself to do so. I can stay calm and collected for as long as required, even if someone nearly kills me, but as soon as I am alone, I can let it out. This I know because during our first year, Crabbe and Goyle, total brain capacity -1, almost killed me by accident. When they fight, they mean business, and I happened to get in the way of one of their spats, and ended up thrown down a flight of stairs, nearly cracking my scull open in the process. But I kept my cool, and did not blow up until I was alone. But then, I did it double force; I was eleven years old, so getting kicked around by someone twice my size however accidental was frightening to me. I nearly cried, even though my mother always told me boys don't cry. My father told me otherwise, but that's hardly the issue.
The issue is Defence teachers. Over all, they have been rotten. One had Voldemort on the back of his head, the second couldn't teach a fish how to swim if he tried, the third was good, the fourth was a creep and a double agent, and the fifth was a freak from the Ministry. Not a very good track record for Hogwarts, I fear. Hopefully, this year would be better. It wasn't as if it could get any worse.
I mumbled aloud to myself as I read, trying to memorise the text. It's a bad habit of mine, mumbling while I study. It has driven many people up the wall, demanding to know why I feel the need to mumble every time I try to remember something instead of just sitting there and shutting up, goddamn it! That's how they put it, anyway. Well, Draco, really. He has such a way with words.
I know my mumbling must be severely annoying, but that's the only way I know how to study. If I kept my mouth shut and just read, I might remember the interesting parts, but those were must often the parts I didn't have any use of. These unimportant parts have over the years included the airspeed velocity of an un-laden swallow, both African and European species, the exact length of some obscure Muggle book called Blood Call and strangely enough, how to say "I am a pineapple" in Swedish. Of all the odd assorted knowledge I have acquired in my life that has got to be the strangest one.
I can only dimly remember sleeping during the exams last year, keeping up all night, several days in a row, to study. By then, sleep had become a luxury, not a necessity. It is amazing how long willpower can keep you going. Even after coffee stopped working, pure ironclad discipline kept me going for three days straight. I looked like a bloody zombie after the last exam, but it proved to be worth it. I had earned myself four Outstandings, which I still had not fully accepted. I never pictured myself as an O student. I'd thought myself lucky if I could get an E.
Hopefully, I would be able to slow down slightly this year, and not wind up in the hospital wing due to sleep depravation. I still claim that that horrible Mrs Norris knocked over that vase, not me. I wasn't even in the room; I'm quite sure I was sleeping by then, or studying for my Charms exam. Sighing, I glanced at the clock and put my book away reluctantly. The day after tomorrow, I would go back home, and I wanted to enjoy my last day of relative freedom before that happened.
I want to give a shout-out to my shipping buddies at HMS Overworked & Underappreciated; you guys rock. Don't worry; your ship will make appearances, but only in the second and third part. Blaise is just a bit too self-centric right now.
********'
"Let me break into a puzzle
Fall out of the box
Put myself together
Piece by piece"
-Puzzle Pieces, by Rini
*******'
I'm a vampire. Or at least I think I am. Let's list the evidence; one, I hate sunlight, two, I'm allergic to garlic, three, I nearly always dress in black, and did I mention I despise sunlight? Draco woke me up at fife- thirty in the morning! Did you know that there are many, many, many ways to kill a peroxide-blonde, snobbish boy? I think I shall write a book about it when I graduate..nah, too much work.
There was a booming knock on my door, at exactly five-twenty seven in the morning, and I couldn't avoid waking up. I swear, I was blinded by that godforsaken sun. I know there were tribes several hundred years ago who worshipped the sun, but trust me, they didn't know what they were doing. They really, really didn't. I was just about to turn over and fall asleep again when the door flew open. I buried my head in the pillow and prayed to whatever deity was listening to send a lighting bolt at the early risers of the world.
"Wakey, wakey, Blaise!" I voice practically chirped from the doorway.
My only reply was a pillow singling through the air and landing squarely on his head. My aim is good, even when almost fully asleep. I curled up on the now bare mattress, mumbling half-formed curse words and nonsensical sentences, happy that I had staved off the heathen early riser.
"Damn moron..mimblewimble.hellish..damn light."
I'm not very coherent while more than half asleep. Scratch that; I'm not coherent until after my first cup of coffee. By the by, that wonderful brown liquid sounds like a good idea right now. Coffeeeee..
"Now, you know it's going to take more than a pillow to get rid of me!" Draco had now moved across the room and was standing at my side, talking in my ear, "You have to get up; we're going shopping today!"
I had contemplated killing Draco before, but when the thought hit me this time, I dismissed it immediately; too many witnesses. And besides, I was too tired to deal with the task that was killing someone. Instead, I gave in and climbed out of bed. I looked around the bedroom for whatever clothes I could find, and finally picked up a pair of faded black jeans and pulled them on. I buckled them up with a belt that was too long, and then pulled on my old black Sex Pistols t-shirt. It's not very normal for a wizard to have a Sex Pistols t-shirt, but I found it in my dad's wardrobe, as far in as possible. Apparently, he was a teenage rebel.
After gathering up my book list from the desk, I set off out the door, in my daily quest for coffee. After coffee, I might be able to focus on the next thing that would be going to Diagon Alley, but only after coffee.
******'
I confess; I slept through most of the ride to London. As the Parkinson's are way too snobbish to travel through Floo Powder, we had to take the long way there. This meant carriage rides, and a shortcut through the magical parts of some village near the Parkinson place. I never bothered to learn the name of it, as it isn't important. I did snore extra loud just to annoy Mrs Parkinson though, as I was bored, and she's easy to annoy, almost pathetically so.
I wouldn't say that Diagon Alley is my favourite place on earth; I dislike crowds immensely, and there is always a lot of people there, but there's something about that place that makes me want to stay there. Maybe it's something in the water. I don't know, but either way I found myself with a smile on my face as we stepped through the wall. I wasn't listening as Mrs Parkinson gave us instructions for when, where and how we were expected to behave ourselves, and instead stood staring off in the distance with a rather dumb look on my face. I'm good at acting dumb; it can get you a lot of things, which is why I perfected it early on.
Aware that I had some sort of deadline, although not entirely sure what it was, I wandered off into the crowds, heading vaguely in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. I felt the weight of my booklist in my pocket, and whistled as I went, quite happy with the situation. Of course, everything looks better after a cup of coffee. Caffeine has always worked to brighten up my day.
I pushed the door open, still whistling, and pulled the booklist out of my pocket after dodging a few people who were coming out of the store. I decided to get the easy ones first; Arithmancy and Transfiguration were always in the front of the store, and I saw no reason for it to be different this year. Not bothering to look up, trusting that everyone would get out of my way, I walked further into the store. I trusted people's common sense in getting out of the way of a rather tall boy without bothering him, but apparently I should have read humanity's manual a little better.
I had nearly reached the stack of Advanced Guide to Transfiguration books when I stumbled over someone and nearly fell down. I managed to catch myself just in time, but the person I ran into was mercilessly knocked over and fell to the floor with a resounding thump. I looked up from my booklist, ready to apologize, but stopped immediately, as the sight before me was rather surprising. On the floor, books in a circle around her, was Granger, the single most annoying girl in the world. How Potter and Weasley are able to stand her, I'll never know.
She glared up at me, clearly angry that I had somehow sabotaged her day or something, as it is all Gryffindors' way to assume Slytherins are horrible conspirators. However, I matched her glare for glare, and waited for her to get out of my way. Had it been anyone else, I would have helped them up, but as it was Granger, I decided that she could held herself up if she was even half as smart and capable as the teachers painted her. Suits her to have to work for something.
"Watch where you're going," She snapped, glaring at me.
I snorted. Watch where I am going? If she had not been nose-deep in some book about astrophysics, she would have seen me coming and would have been able to avoid me. Of course, I could have avoided her as well, but that was not the point. Besides, she deserved to be knocked over every once in a while.
"And so should you," I replied.
She got up off the floor and prepared to launch into some self-righteous rant about Slytherins, but I ignored her and snatched a book from the pile and walked away. I wasn't in the mood for confrontations with annoying Gryffindors, no matter how much coffee I'd had. I needed to get my books as quick as possible, so that I might get some ice cream as Fortescue's before our deadline. Some supplies for my Silver Arrow might come in handy as well, and that would take some time to get too.
Ten minutes later, I was at the back of the store, looking for the Defence book. It proved hard to find, and when I finally did, it was at the top of the shelf, forcing me to put all my books on the floor to reach up for it. I managed to grasp it with my fingertips, which was unusual for me, due to my height and all. Deciding to be nice for once, I pulled out a few more books from the shelf and put them on a lower one, thinking that Draco and the girls might get them later, if they were even taking Defence. I didn't know, but even if they weren't, I might have helped some stranger out. Out of character for me, yes, but I blame the early rising for that one.
I paid for my purchases, and walked out of the store, heading for the ice cream parlour. Broom supplies could wait for another day, and I was really curious about the sixth year curriculum. Slowly eating my chocolate ice cream, I flipped through the Defence book. Pictures of many odd and sometimes outright disgusting creatures came into view, as well as descriptions of different curses. It seemed sixth year would be interesting.
"Are you finished yet?"
I was jerked out of my thoughts by the abrupt question, and looking up, I discovered the Gryffindor wonder trio looking at me from atop their own ice cream portions. I raised an eyebrow, and then looked down at my plate of ice cream, which was nearly filled still. I had to marvel at the stupidity of the three.
"Do I look finished?" I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice and failing miserably.
"No," Weasley said, "But you need to move."
"I fail to see a reason," I replied, looking around me, "As there are many other tables vacant, there are many other places for you to sit and eat your ice cream. Thus, we have solved the problem. You are welcome to leave at any time you wish."
"This is our table, Slytherin," Weasley said angrily, aided by Potter's despising look, "You're moving right now."
By now, I was starting to lose my patience. I was not angry, but so annoyed that half of it would be enough. Weasley and Potter kept glaring at me, clearly expecting me to move because they told me to. But if they had come looking for an easy fight, they would have to go elsewhere. I had chosen this table and then I would damn well keep this table.
"I shan't," I said, deliberately wording it as complicated as possible, "Because I believe, correct me if I am wrong, that I arrived here before you did, and claimed this table as mine. I was not informed that it belonged to you, nor do I believe it does. Therefore, I shall keep the table, and you shall go elsewhere. Understood?"
Weasley was about to drop his plate and lunge at me, when Potter grabbed the back of his robes and dragged him away, apparently deciding that today was not a day for confrontations. Granger remained for a moment, sending me a weird look, looking like she was about to apologize, which would have been nice, but then she turned on her heels and left. I raised my eyebrow, but went back to my books and ate my ice cream in peace.
******'
My spoon was resting against my now empty plate, and I was quite engrossed in my Defence book when Draco and the girls finally showed up. Millicent was looking mighty bored, but Pansy had the dazed look that comes from too much shopping. I rolled my eyes. If anyone knows how to shop till they drop, Pansy's that girl. Draco was looking pretty suffering too, and collapsed in the chair next to me, groaning out something about how painful shopping was.
"Have you gotten your books?" I asked, grinning.
"Yes," Draco sighed, "And a million other things as well. You have no idea how many things fit into a single bag, even without magic. You really don't."
"You forget, Draco," I kept grinning, "I have been forced to accompany my mother on her shopping trips, and there are few things I do not know about shopping bags. She can shop until her money runs out, and then go at least another hour."
Draco sent me a horrified look, Millicent smirked, and Pansy giggled. I leaned back with a superior smirk on my face; I had one yet another of Draco's and mine confrontations. Not that that's hard or anything; Draco most often speaks without thinking, making it a whole lot easier to win than it rightfully should have been.
"I pity you, you poor soul," Draco reached over and patted my head, "It must have been a nightmare."
"Yeah," I agreed readily, "As was running into the Gryffindor gang earlier."
"Potter?" Draco's eyes flashed. They always do when Potter comes up, I've noticed.
"Yeah, and Weasley and Granger." I nodded, "The only bright part was knocking Granger over by accident and watching her explode. Well, she didn't explode, as such, but she came pretty damned close."
"I'd have paid to see that!" Draco laughed, "She deserves it!"
After a round of laughter, I leaned back further in my chair and listened to them talk. On the whole, despite encounters with Gryffindors, overprotective mothers and crowds, it had been a good day. I had gotten the books I needed, I had indulged in some chocolate ice cream, and all was well with the world.
*******'
There are few things that fascinate me as much as Defence Against the Dark Arts. The sheer magnitude of spells and curses are enough to drive me mad trying to remember them. The dark creatures might be interesting, but the magical aspect, the technical spells and the complicated wards and so on were much more interesting in my opinion. It's a challenge trying to get them right, and I have never been able to resist challenges. It has got something to do with the Slytherin psyche, I believe.
I was lying on my bed, engrossed in my Defence book. As it was the teachers who put together the booklist, I was getting more and more curious about our new Defence teacher. The book was not good, nor was it passable; it was outright awesome. Even though Defence is my favourite subject, I never could have imagined the dept of the subject before reading this book. Any teacher who put such a book on the list had to be better than Umbridge. We might even have gotten Lupin back. Now that would be a dream come true; Lupin was the one Defence teacher I ever really liked. The fake Mad-Eye, while giving interesting lessons, had a faint sense of creepiness about it that made me freak out.
Yes, I am very temperamental, and can easily have breakdowns, but only when I allow myself to do so. I can stay calm and collected for as long as required, even if someone nearly kills me, but as soon as I am alone, I can let it out. This I know because during our first year, Crabbe and Goyle, total brain capacity -1, almost killed me by accident. When they fight, they mean business, and I happened to get in the way of one of their spats, and ended up thrown down a flight of stairs, nearly cracking my scull open in the process. But I kept my cool, and did not blow up until I was alone. But then, I did it double force; I was eleven years old, so getting kicked around by someone twice my size however accidental was frightening to me. I nearly cried, even though my mother always told me boys don't cry. My father told me otherwise, but that's hardly the issue.
The issue is Defence teachers. Over all, they have been rotten. One had Voldemort on the back of his head, the second couldn't teach a fish how to swim if he tried, the third was good, the fourth was a creep and a double agent, and the fifth was a freak from the Ministry. Not a very good track record for Hogwarts, I fear. Hopefully, this year would be better. It wasn't as if it could get any worse.
I mumbled aloud to myself as I read, trying to memorise the text. It's a bad habit of mine, mumbling while I study. It has driven many people up the wall, demanding to know why I feel the need to mumble every time I try to remember something instead of just sitting there and shutting up, goddamn it! That's how they put it, anyway. Well, Draco, really. He has such a way with words.
I know my mumbling must be severely annoying, but that's the only way I know how to study. If I kept my mouth shut and just read, I might remember the interesting parts, but those were must often the parts I didn't have any use of. These unimportant parts have over the years included the airspeed velocity of an un-laden swallow, both African and European species, the exact length of some obscure Muggle book called Blood Call and strangely enough, how to say "I am a pineapple" in Swedish. Of all the odd assorted knowledge I have acquired in my life that has got to be the strangest one.
I can only dimly remember sleeping during the exams last year, keeping up all night, several days in a row, to study. By then, sleep had become a luxury, not a necessity. It is amazing how long willpower can keep you going. Even after coffee stopped working, pure ironclad discipline kept me going for three days straight. I looked like a bloody zombie after the last exam, but it proved to be worth it. I had earned myself four Outstandings, which I still had not fully accepted. I never pictured myself as an O student. I'd thought myself lucky if I could get an E.
Hopefully, I would be able to slow down slightly this year, and not wind up in the hospital wing due to sleep depravation. I still claim that that horrible Mrs Norris knocked over that vase, not me. I wasn't even in the room; I'm quite sure I was sleeping by then, or studying for my Charms exam. Sighing, I glanced at the clock and put my book away reluctantly. The day after tomorrow, I would go back home, and I wanted to enjoy my last day of relative freedom before that happened.
