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30 September 1994

Bloody awful night.

Dinner parties are one of the most superfluous ways of socializing, I just do not understand what it is about them that could possess Lucius to think they are an alright method to profligate his ideas. He really should just start writing little pamphlets and then owl them to people. Done well, he could have half the nation supporting him within a week. To be concise, he would like to become the British Ambassador to France. It's always something new with him; just last week he wanted to start his own nightclub.

The Notts, the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Parkinsons, and Tiberius Flint were there among other ministry personnel that seemed to take their jobs much too seriously. The night was long, Ferdinand, and dreadfully dull. Conversation was centered on the school's Tri-Wizard Tournament amongst the men and the latest fashions amongst the women. Narcissa crooned incessantly about how chic the color cranberry was this season and how she wanted nothing more than a velvet cranberry cloak. Overpriced and trendy, I'm certain, but nothing she would wear more than twice.

At the very least, dinner was superb. And by superb I mean I haven't had a meal that good since the last time I was there for dinner. I really do need to ask Narcissa where she gets her House Elves. Hogwarts desperately needs a House Elf that knows how to properly roast a leg of lamb.

S.S.