Date: 15th September

Mood: Self satisfied.

It's been uncannily quiet recently, even the regular irritations provided by Prince Draco have died off a little.  He's decided to go back to Harry baiting, thank Merlin.  I mean, I do the school a great service in my spare time by slowly driving our great flapping grease ball of a potions teacher insane.  Whereas Harry Potter just whines about how hard done by he is.  See, he needs Draco's attentions.

I don't!

I'm getting off track.  I was saying how quiet it's been around here.  Well, I put an end to that silence this morning.

Ever since last time, I've been literally itching to try something new, and an idea occurred to me at Breakfast this morning.  Some muggle born was singing a very strange song called Fat Bottomed Girls.

I couldn't resist.  Only two days ago Flitwick had taught us a spell that would charm objects to recite a poem or a song…It was simply meant to be!

So, I ambled innocently up to said muggle born, and asked him for the complete words.  Obligingly, or because I have a reputation to be ah…..angry…., he wrote them down for me.

I dared not attempt my cunning plan during Potions, since greasy Bat was still a tad on edge about my last little joke.  (Did I mention he kept giggling for the rest of the day?  Must have overdosed…..)

So, at morning break, I moved in for Operation Queen-Song.

Getting into his classroom was simple, since I had left it until the end of break when everyone's definitely left the classrooms.  Charming his desk chair?  Yet again, simple. 

I did, however, regret the fact that I would not be hearing this charming little rendition (from underneath the Snape's rear, no less!) so I lingered in the corridor behind a statue as the first years filed into the room…

And, sure enough-

"..Left alone with big fat fatty, she was such a naughty nanny…!"

He must have jumped up then, and I don't honestly blame him!  At this time I was doubled over behind my statue, my laughter unheard over the din of cackling first years within.

Then, I heard the door open.  I bolted, and I haven't yet found out whether he's been able to prove it was me, since I have tactfully avoided him ever since…However, I do believe one of the first years took it upon themselves to do something to his desk chair so it doesn't stop singing...

Well, I'll have to wait and see whether or not I'm going to survive the rest of the week.

Until then, I'm a genius.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Date: 17th September

Mood: Deflated.

Not such a genius after all.  He doesn't have any proof that it was me, so no detentions yet.  However, he has successfully managed to destroy every potion I have made since, and to keep me back after class to 'clean up'.  I have hedgehog intestines in the seams of my robes.

Bastard!

You wanna play like that, do you?!

We'll see…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Date: 18th September

Mood: -insert evil cackle here-

Must be quick, I'm at dinner and Batty is irate.  He made the mistake of hanging his cloak on the dungeon wall during class today, and I have no idea what possessed me to do this.  Might have been the fumes from the potions we were making.  Whatever it was, the instant he turned his back, I took my inkpot and quill (I have white ink, since it looks uber cool in black parchment!) and painted a target on the back of his cloak.

I don't think he's figured out why all these small projectiles keep hitting him yet.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming, I keep the story coming! (NB – not inspiration.  Ego boost.)