Author's note: Since this is the third entry, I feel as though I should put
up a long-overdue disclaimer. So, here it is in all its glory. Happy
belated disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Roger Davies (although a girl can write fanfic, he he), Penelope Clearwater, Draco Malfoy, or any such person mentioned in this diary. Any resemblance to any beings, living or dead or in any Harry Potter books, is completely uncoincidential and intentional (hey, it's a fanfic!). Natalia Adani though, in a totally non-sexual way, is totally mine. Time for green eyes, boys :). The sexy cousin of a certain guest at Hogwarts, when I decide for him to make an appearance, is also a figment of my rather dubious imagination.
Also, this entry contains a MASSIVE MARY SUE PARODY. I don't have anything against Mary Sues, some are quite good, but I just couldn't resist poking fun at them.
Author's note part two: Does anyone know how to paste a picture onto your bio page? I'd love to draw a pic of Nat to put on, but I'm techno illiterate.
Okay, I'll shut up now: I realise I forgot to date my last entry (September 2nd), so I'll make a special effort to remember this one. Too many cups of tea...
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Three: Mary Sue, who are you?
Natalia discovers that there is a very popular girls' name doing the rounds at Hogwarts.
9:49 PM, September 5th
Okay, perhaps it's not late enough to make such a momentous decision (I do my best thinking around one AM, but stupid British wizards want to start breakfast at seven), but I have decided not screw Roger Davies.
Yes, mother, you can still expect grandchildren from me.
I am not going the same route as Adrian Pucey. Roger still totally works for me; it's just that right now I need him more as the sidekick/indispensable guy pal type than as, well, you know. I guess if I got really desperate I could murder six mugs of Butterbeer and puncture Marcus Flint, but (prudishly) I have my reputation to consider.
Natalia Adani does not screw ugly guys, damn it.
And six mugs just wouldn't do it. Bloody Merlin, I don't think the whole of Hogsmeades houses enough Butterbeer to create beer goggles powerful enough to render Troll Boy attractive.
But back to the indispensable guy pal thing. I think I'm going to need one here more than anywhere else I've ever been (and I've been plenty of places, baby). For one thing, I've never had many female friends.
Strange that.
And for another, for some reason the ratio of girls to guys in this school is just way whacked. I mean, what is up here? For every Quidditch stud there's like ten thousand salivating teeny boppers. It's like in ancient times when in some societies they'd drop newborn girls down the well, but in reverse.
There's a certain prefect I wish I could drop down a well.
Well, guess it's time I round this off since, after all, I need my beauty sleep, though not as much as some (*cough* Penelope Clearwater! *cough* *cough*). That silly cow is snoring again. She really is grating on me, and since I'm not Cheddar there's no reason why I should put up with it.
Perhaps I'll steal her boyfriend.
8:36 AM, September 6th
Was rudely shaken awake by random Ravenclaw nerd. "Wake up, wake up," she panted. "You overslept and you've missed breakfast."
"Wha?" I groaned, trying to force myself in consciousness. Natalia, Natalia, when there is an audience present, you are never "off." "But I set an alarm clock." Actually, the last part was more like, "Buth arve sempt arn alarhmph clomp." Give me a break; I'd just woken up. Even I can't be fabulous before nine o'clock in the morning.
"Oh, alarm clocks don't work here," she said breezily, tossing golden locks over her shoulder. They made an awful din once they hit the floor. No, I jest. "No Muggle things do. They're battery operated, you see."
Damn primitive British wizards who can't make batteries compatible with leg- locking curses. "Who the hell are you?" I barked.
"Mary Sue, Oliver Wood's girlfriend," she said, fluttering her eyelashes and emitting a Valley Girl giggle. "He's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, he's Scottish and he's just dreeeaaamy, you know."
Hmm. Always thought the last two automatically went together.
"Mm-hmm," I say, trying to mentally shake the sleep out of my head. The thing about this chick is that not only is she in Ravenclaw (and assumedly smart although perhaps the Sorting Hat did a better job finding it than I did), but she's drop-dead gorgeous and, get this, skinny but with sizeable assets in a certain area. Now, I can't speak for the majority of girls, but I know that even I, to be gifted where it counts, have to pack a lot of meat everywhere else. And where as sizewise, I'm more melon-esque (which I'd always thought to be pretty impressive), with her we're talking Quaffles.
This Mary Sue is just too freaky to be real.
"Hey," I said, heaving myself and my melons off my lumpy four-poster bed (I'm not a big fan of the mattress but at least the pillars can have stuff tied to them, and therefore infinitely interesting possibilities), "do the twins lie down when you do?"
"What?" she blinked.
"Nevermind," I said. "Have to go have a shower." I left the broomstick and her Quaffles behind and stumbled off towards the bathroom. Really don't like British bathrooms. See, back home we're smart enough to realise that when people wake up, the first things they want to do is have a shower "and" relieve lesser bodily functions. So we set it up so that you can do both in the same room. But in Hogwarts, they have one in a room all on its lonesome and they call a "toilet," so you actually have to go to one room then a completely different one that the higher powers at the school have decided to place marathon distance away from the first. Which is not great when you're running late, and you're a poet but you're too cool to show it.
Okay, now for my dirty little secret. And no, not the one called "William."
I, star student and studette and Quidditch extraordinaire, do not have twenty-twenty vision. What I do have though, is a superior mastery of the eye correction charm, so every morning I fix myself up so I can go through the days without glasses and stand a much better chance of keeping my stratospheric pre-OWL results secret, since everyone assumes that if you have glasses, you must be smart. And a virgin.
But this morning I forgot.
So when I pushed open the door with the little person on the front, my vision was blurred to the point where I thought the little person was wearing a skirt, when really HE wasn't. At all.
And neither was the buff bronzed god when I blundered into the GUYS bathroom this morning.
"Um, this is the boys' bathroom," this apparition said to me in a gorgeous Scottish accent as I stood rooted to the spot in the doorway. Very surprised that I noticed his accent, considering what else was on display.
"I can see that," I said, then realised exactly "what" I was looking at as I spoke. "I mean, I mean, I can't see anything at all, really, I should be wearing glasses."
"YOU wear glasses?" he gaped as I stood there gaping at it, I mean, him. Oh eyes, dear eyes, pleeeasse look upwards.
"Yeah," I stuttered out. "I'm in Ravenclaw, you know."
"YOU'RE in Ravenclaw?" he repeated back to me.
"Yeah, usually that's where you can find me, but right now I'm in the guys' bathroom, as you've so kindly pointed out, so I'm just-going-to-go-to-the- girls'-bathroom-and-have-a-shower," I stammered, then turned and bolted out the door.
If you've ever tried to drown yourself in the shower, please take note. It doesn't work.
12:56 PM
Hate Gryffindor.
Okay, so I overslept. And really I wasn't to blame, stupid primitive British wizards were. So I thought that if I was going to be late, I may as well be fashionably late, and not only had a shower but styled my hair and crafted smouldering eyes and a sultry mouth with my new Chanel colours compact.
Really, what's five minutes? Or ten. Or thirty-seven..
So maybe I shouldn't have waltzed into Transfigurations, of all classes, at 9:37 AM while the nerds and the "We've got Harry Potter" Gryffindors were taking a pop quiz. And maybe I shouldn't have said, "I know I'm late, but darling, I'm worth it."
Perhaps Queen Victoriana, Professor McGonagall, didn't pick up on my witty L'Oreal Feria commercial reference. She certainly picked up a detention slip.
Hate Gryffindor.
To make matters worse, this being Hogwarts and everything being so boring (especially in my house) that they have no lives so they have to discuss everyone else's, by the time I got to lunch word had got around re: This Morning's Incident. "Hey Adani," Roger drawled as I slumped onto the bench next to him, "what's this I hear about you catching a glimpse of Wood's wood in the shower this morning, and, more importantly, you needing to wear glasses?"
"Please don't ask," I mutter.
"I just did," he beamed.
"Hey, Natalia," someone demanded. I turned around to see a redhead with features that would make a Veela weep with envy glaring down at me. "I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I really don't appreciate you trying to catch my boyfriend naked."
"But I just met a Mary Sue this morning," I stammer, "and she was blonde, and "she" was dating Oliver Wood-"
"What are you talking about?" a gorgeous asian girl squealed. "I'M Mary Sue, I'M in Gryffindor, and I'M going out with Oliver Wood. He's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you know, and did I mention that I'm in Gryffindor?"
"Repeatedly," Roger sighed.
"Has this happened before?" I whispered to him, surprised by his nonchalance.
"Like clockwork," he replied.
"Oh, there's many Mary Sues out there," drawled a voluptuous brunette, "but I'm sure I'm the most unique. I'm in Gryffindor, but I'm dating Roger Davies."
Roger spat out his soup.
"But I'm Mary Sue," the Mary Sue who had terrified me this morning chimed in, "and I'm in Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor, because I'm original, you see, and I'm dating Oliver Wood!"
"But, but-" I stuttered and started to shake. My poor, frail mind.
"Hello, darling," the Mary Sue next to Roger sighed, falling into his lap and attempting to shove her tongue down his throat.
"I'm as surprised by this as you are," Roger hissed to me, trying to escape her roving hands.
"I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I'm dating Oliver Wood!"
"No, I'M Mary Sue and I'M in Gryffindor and I'M dating Oliver Wood!"
"But I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I'm SHAGGING Oliver Wood!"
"YOU HUSSY!" About half the female content of the Great Hall rushed in to join the fight.
"Great, now hopefully they all kill each other," Roger muttered, trying to shove his particular Mary Sue off his lap. "Look, you, "my" tongue stays in "my" mouth, so please keep yours in yours."
Meanwhile, over at the Gryffindor table, several calendar-worthy beauties were surrounding You-Guessed-It. "Hello, Harry Potter," cooed one, "I'm Mary Sue and I'm your girlfriend."
"But I'm only twelve," Harry trembled.
Just then the buffed bronzed god, who I had seen very much in the buff earlier today, sauntered into the Great Hall. "OLIVER!" shrieked the now rather battered Mary Sues, then raced towards him.
"AHHHH!" he screamed, then sprinted out of the room.
After school, I will visit Snape and ask for a "very" strong sleeping potion.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Roger Davies (although a girl can write fanfic, he he), Penelope Clearwater, Draco Malfoy, or any such person mentioned in this diary. Any resemblance to any beings, living or dead or in any Harry Potter books, is completely uncoincidential and intentional (hey, it's a fanfic!). Natalia Adani though, in a totally non-sexual way, is totally mine. Time for green eyes, boys :). The sexy cousin of a certain guest at Hogwarts, when I decide for him to make an appearance, is also a figment of my rather dubious imagination.
Also, this entry contains a MASSIVE MARY SUE PARODY. I don't have anything against Mary Sues, some are quite good, but I just couldn't resist poking fun at them.
Author's note part two: Does anyone know how to paste a picture onto your bio page? I'd love to draw a pic of Nat to put on, but I'm techno illiterate.
Okay, I'll shut up now: I realise I forgot to date my last entry (September 2nd), so I'll make a special effort to remember this one. Too many cups of tea...
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Three: Mary Sue, who are you?
Natalia discovers that there is a very popular girls' name doing the rounds at Hogwarts.
9:49 PM, September 5th
Okay, perhaps it's not late enough to make such a momentous decision (I do my best thinking around one AM, but stupid British wizards want to start breakfast at seven), but I have decided not screw Roger Davies.
Yes, mother, you can still expect grandchildren from me.
I am not going the same route as Adrian Pucey. Roger still totally works for me; it's just that right now I need him more as the sidekick/indispensable guy pal type than as, well, you know. I guess if I got really desperate I could murder six mugs of Butterbeer and puncture Marcus Flint, but (prudishly) I have my reputation to consider.
Natalia Adani does not screw ugly guys, damn it.
And six mugs just wouldn't do it. Bloody Merlin, I don't think the whole of Hogsmeades houses enough Butterbeer to create beer goggles powerful enough to render Troll Boy attractive.
But back to the indispensable guy pal thing. I think I'm going to need one here more than anywhere else I've ever been (and I've been plenty of places, baby). For one thing, I've never had many female friends.
Strange that.
And for another, for some reason the ratio of girls to guys in this school is just way whacked. I mean, what is up here? For every Quidditch stud there's like ten thousand salivating teeny boppers. It's like in ancient times when in some societies they'd drop newborn girls down the well, but in reverse.
There's a certain prefect I wish I could drop down a well.
Well, guess it's time I round this off since, after all, I need my beauty sleep, though not as much as some (*cough* Penelope Clearwater! *cough* *cough*). That silly cow is snoring again. She really is grating on me, and since I'm not Cheddar there's no reason why I should put up with it.
Perhaps I'll steal her boyfriend.
8:36 AM, September 6th
Was rudely shaken awake by random Ravenclaw nerd. "Wake up, wake up," she panted. "You overslept and you've missed breakfast."
"Wha?" I groaned, trying to force myself in consciousness. Natalia, Natalia, when there is an audience present, you are never "off." "But I set an alarm clock." Actually, the last part was more like, "Buth arve sempt arn alarhmph clomp." Give me a break; I'd just woken up. Even I can't be fabulous before nine o'clock in the morning.
"Oh, alarm clocks don't work here," she said breezily, tossing golden locks over her shoulder. They made an awful din once they hit the floor. No, I jest. "No Muggle things do. They're battery operated, you see."
Damn primitive British wizards who can't make batteries compatible with leg- locking curses. "Who the hell are you?" I barked.
"Mary Sue, Oliver Wood's girlfriend," she said, fluttering her eyelashes and emitting a Valley Girl giggle. "He's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, he's Scottish and he's just dreeeaaamy, you know."
Hmm. Always thought the last two automatically went together.
"Mm-hmm," I say, trying to mentally shake the sleep out of my head. The thing about this chick is that not only is she in Ravenclaw (and assumedly smart although perhaps the Sorting Hat did a better job finding it than I did), but she's drop-dead gorgeous and, get this, skinny but with sizeable assets in a certain area. Now, I can't speak for the majority of girls, but I know that even I, to be gifted where it counts, have to pack a lot of meat everywhere else. And where as sizewise, I'm more melon-esque (which I'd always thought to be pretty impressive), with her we're talking Quaffles.
This Mary Sue is just too freaky to be real.
"Hey," I said, heaving myself and my melons off my lumpy four-poster bed (I'm not a big fan of the mattress but at least the pillars can have stuff tied to them, and therefore infinitely interesting possibilities), "do the twins lie down when you do?"
"What?" she blinked.
"Nevermind," I said. "Have to go have a shower." I left the broomstick and her Quaffles behind and stumbled off towards the bathroom. Really don't like British bathrooms. See, back home we're smart enough to realise that when people wake up, the first things they want to do is have a shower "and" relieve lesser bodily functions. So we set it up so that you can do both in the same room. But in Hogwarts, they have one in a room all on its lonesome and they call a "toilet," so you actually have to go to one room then a completely different one that the higher powers at the school have decided to place marathon distance away from the first. Which is not great when you're running late, and you're a poet but you're too cool to show it.
Okay, now for my dirty little secret. And no, not the one called "William."
I, star student and studette and Quidditch extraordinaire, do not have twenty-twenty vision. What I do have though, is a superior mastery of the eye correction charm, so every morning I fix myself up so I can go through the days without glasses and stand a much better chance of keeping my stratospheric pre-OWL results secret, since everyone assumes that if you have glasses, you must be smart. And a virgin.
But this morning I forgot.
So when I pushed open the door with the little person on the front, my vision was blurred to the point where I thought the little person was wearing a skirt, when really HE wasn't. At all.
And neither was the buff bronzed god when I blundered into the GUYS bathroom this morning.
"Um, this is the boys' bathroom," this apparition said to me in a gorgeous Scottish accent as I stood rooted to the spot in the doorway. Very surprised that I noticed his accent, considering what else was on display.
"I can see that," I said, then realised exactly "what" I was looking at as I spoke. "I mean, I mean, I can't see anything at all, really, I should be wearing glasses."
"YOU wear glasses?" he gaped as I stood there gaping at it, I mean, him. Oh eyes, dear eyes, pleeeasse look upwards.
"Yeah," I stuttered out. "I'm in Ravenclaw, you know."
"YOU'RE in Ravenclaw?" he repeated back to me.
"Yeah, usually that's where you can find me, but right now I'm in the guys' bathroom, as you've so kindly pointed out, so I'm just-going-to-go-to-the- girls'-bathroom-and-have-a-shower," I stammered, then turned and bolted out the door.
If you've ever tried to drown yourself in the shower, please take note. It doesn't work.
12:56 PM
Hate Gryffindor.
Okay, so I overslept. And really I wasn't to blame, stupid primitive British wizards were. So I thought that if I was going to be late, I may as well be fashionably late, and not only had a shower but styled my hair and crafted smouldering eyes and a sultry mouth with my new Chanel colours compact.
Really, what's five minutes? Or ten. Or thirty-seven..
So maybe I shouldn't have waltzed into Transfigurations, of all classes, at 9:37 AM while the nerds and the "We've got Harry Potter" Gryffindors were taking a pop quiz. And maybe I shouldn't have said, "I know I'm late, but darling, I'm worth it."
Perhaps Queen Victoriana, Professor McGonagall, didn't pick up on my witty L'Oreal Feria commercial reference. She certainly picked up a detention slip.
Hate Gryffindor.
To make matters worse, this being Hogwarts and everything being so boring (especially in my house) that they have no lives so they have to discuss everyone else's, by the time I got to lunch word had got around re: This Morning's Incident. "Hey Adani," Roger drawled as I slumped onto the bench next to him, "what's this I hear about you catching a glimpse of Wood's wood in the shower this morning, and, more importantly, you needing to wear glasses?"
"Please don't ask," I mutter.
"I just did," he beamed.
"Hey, Natalia," someone demanded. I turned around to see a redhead with features that would make a Veela weep with envy glaring down at me. "I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I really don't appreciate you trying to catch my boyfriend naked."
"But I just met a Mary Sue this morning," I stammer, "and she was blonde, and "she" was dating Oliver Wood-"
"What are you talking about?" a gorgeous asian girl squealed. "I'M Mary Sue, I'M in Gryffindor, and I'M going out with Oliver Wood. He's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you know, and did I mention that I'm in Gryffindor?"
"Repeatedly," Roger sighed.
"Has this happened before?" I whispered to him, surprised by his nonchalance.
"Like clockwork," he replied.
"Oh, there's many Mary Sues out there," drawled a voluptuous brunette, "but I'm sure I'm the most unique. I'm in Gryffindor, but I'm dating Roger Davies."
Roger spat out his soup.
"But I'm Mary Sue," the Mary Sue who had terrified me this morning chimed in, "and I'm in Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor, because I'm original, you see, and I'm dating Oliver Wood!"
"But, but-" I stuttered and started to shake. My poor, frail mind.
"Hello, darling," the Mary Sue next to Roger sighed, falling into his lap and attempting to shove her tongue down his throat.
"I'm as surprised by this as you are," Roger hissed to me, trying to escape her roving hands.
"I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I'm dating Oliver Wood!"
"No, I'M Mary Sue and I'M in Gryffindor and I'M dating Oliver Wood!"
"But I'm Mary Sue, I'm in Gryffindor and I'm SHAGGING Oliver Wood!"
"YOU HUSSY!" About half the female content of the Great Hall rushed in to join the fight.
"Great, now hopefully they all kill each other," Roger muttered, trying to shove his particular Mary Sue off his lap. "Look, you, "my" tongue stays in "my" mouth, so please keep yours in yours."
Meanwhile, over at the Gryffindor table, several calendar-worthy beauties were surrounding You-Guessed-It. "Hello, Harry Potter," cooed one, "I'm Mary Sue and I'm your girlfriend."
"But I'm only twelve," Harry trembled.
Just then the buffed bronzed god, who I had seen very much in the buff earlier today, sauntered into the Great Hall. "OLIVER!" shrieked the now rather battered Mary Sues, then raced towards him.
"AHHHH!" he screamed, then sprinted out of the room.
After school, I will visit Snape and ask for a "very" strong sleeping potion.