PEEPING MERLIN

I need a fire whiskey. Or a shot of scotch. Something.

Not that I haven't drank four –hiccup- fire whiskeys already. But I want another damn it.

I saw him today. The murderer fellow, that is. Not my Father. He was with that filthy mud blood. Disgusting. Funny enough though, she walked in on me and oh dear – what was her name? I do believe it was something along the lines of I-have-no-idea.

But, oh well. She was rather giggly and couldn't keep quiet. And thus she was ranting. It didn't help she was blonde. Blondes are never smart when it comes to women.

Look at my mother for example.

She let me into the world.

How impeccably stupid can you get?

Anyways, the girl didn't seem at all upset by having a peeping little muggle born witch poke her little head in, but rather decided to lavish in the attention.

She must not get very many customers.

So while she scrambled to pull on her clothes – which weren't really clothes, merely scraps of fabric stitched together to cover herself. But only barely.

I hate the whore-ish ones.

OH. You won't believe it. I got my expensive, high quality, wizard telescope.

It was a bit of a pocket digger though. Jonathon nearly wet himself when I told him I had to retrieve more money to be able to pay for it.

And Mother, well she wasn't pleased with my purchases to say the least.

The latest edition of The Hoodwanker, four quills, a bottle of ink, toffee, gin, and my fantabulous telescope.

Only problem is that it lacks instructions and I have no bloody idea how it works.

Maybe Howe can help. He's rather diligent for a house elf.

Some time later

It turns out Howe is more diligent then I thought.

All we need to do was remove the eye cap, and blah blah blah. I think I already forgot how to use it. Hmm. Maybe I have short term memory loss, or something of the like.

Nope.

I definitely remember that Harry looked fucking gorgeous all messy and awkward like that. I had to use every ounce of dignity and self control to even tear away from staring and demote my eye sight onto Tina.

Oh. Yes. Tina. That was her name.

She reminded me of someone. Oh! Pansy Parkinson. That little whore. Hated her.

She was rather good in bed though. And she had lovely hands.

But she was too cocky. Thought she could have me forever and ever. Hahaha. I liked I'd want to marry her. Disgusting. While her assets are becoming, her features sent me to nightmares on more then one fine evening.

DEAR MERLIN.

Mother just popped in while I was changing.

I must have screamed so loud that I woke up Jonathon becomes three seconds later – pop – he was standing there beside my mother.

And they seemed to be staring.

I flustered and snatched my recently dropped towel and quickly wrapped my lower regions.

"Oi. I already had a mud blood peeping at me today I don't need my own mother and butler joining the frenzy!"