Chapter seven: The Moanings of an Overgrown Dungeon Dweller

I have lost the most important thing EVER!

Arrrggghhh! You know that lonely-hearts thing I wrote yesterday? Well it's gone. What if someone finds it? Reads it and knows I wrote it! They'll know it's me immediately! And I don't have time to find it because of that stupid Quidditch match! It must be in the staff room because that's where I last saw it. Maybe it'll just get chucked away by one of the elves or something? It had better, or I swear I will kill the next person to walk past. Guess who is walking past right this minute? Potter. Haha. Come here Potty, Potty Potter! Maybe I should kick him before the match and then he won't be able to play?

At the Quidditch match freezing my arse off

I don't know why they have to have the stands all the way up here. It freezing! I swear I'm frozen to the bench. And the Quidditch match is naff. Slytherin has kicked nearly all of the Gryffindor players but they haven't managed to smack Potter one yet! I ask them to do one thing and can they manage it? Nooooo. Stupid little slugs.

I'm going to end up thumping Quirrel in a minute. He won't stop muttering! I can hear all the Slytherins cheering and laughing. Maybe they have finally managed to kick Potter! Woohooo! Go us! Don't look at me like that you little squirt.

Okay. So maybe I should calm down a little bit? What is that Potty Potter doing? Bloody show-off, not content with avoiding getting kicked by my team, he has to go and make his broom buck while he is on it. Hooligan. No! The snitch is right behind him! Quick Severus, think of a charm to make it go away! Right got one.

Made the snitch go away from Potter, I'll just make it go towards my own seeker, SHIT! I'm on fire and Quirrel still won't shut up! Right, I'm thumping him!

In bedroom, crying over the remains of my robes

If I ever find out who set me on fire I will personally disembowel them. That's a promise, not a threat. I would of course blame Potter but he was at the time showing off and not shooting fire at me. I bet it was Weasley. Oh yes, about Quirrel I did manage to thump him and I think he might have a black eye tomorrow. Ha dee ha dee ha. And there's more good news! Potter nearly fell off his broom because the stupid insect wasn't watching the rest of the game, but why didn't Flint hit him in the face? That's what I want to know. I bet the match was fixed. Do you want to know who won? Gryffindor. No, I'm actually being serious. Even after Potter was flung around on his broom he leaped off it, swallowed the snitch in what was shear luck and then landed in a very ungraceful heap on the ground. Hahahaha. You should have seen McGonagall's face; she was smiling (I know!) which made her look like a cracked window when Gryffindor won. She has so many wrinkles it's unbelievable. I reckon she does the whole dancing round cauldrons thing.

The robes I were wearing are now incinerated because of Potter. It was his fault, somehow it was. I don't quite know how yet, I will find out. I'm going to go and practice my evil gloating laugh while pretending to be doing something useful.

Sat in Great Hall, very annoyed because Potter is a hero andin perfect health

Bloody boy. Can't even get injured properly. The mail is coming in and a bird is heading straight for me, no in fact three birds are heading for me. Stay away! I may only have a fork to protect myself but I will take one of you down with me! Okay, they have dropped stuff in my breakfast and flown off. Good! And stay away!

A copy of the Daily Prophet and two letters. Who sends me letters? Oh well. Oh My GOD! What has that old bag gone and done? As I am just scanning through the lonely-hearts column I spotted one called 'Old Bat seeks old female or male for lots of fun. Does not have to be human.' You know who that is meant to mean don't you. Me! The report is two lines long stating that I am very boring and old and need someone to 'play around' with. McGonagall is smirking at me from down the end of the table, she has sent this in and she will pay for it. I don't want to open my other letters now.

I'm going to cry. One is from a hag in the back end of Wales and the other is from a female troll who lives in a cave east of Dumfries! Well, at least there aren't any men. Um… Quirrel is looking at me really weirdly. He has the Daily Prophet. Shall I rip it out of his hands, whack him over the head with it then tear it to shreds or whack McGonagall over the head? Both of them I think.

In staff room, thinking about horrible revenge

I was contemplating throwing her entire collection of tartan hats to the squid, but seen as she will probably go out and buy some more that are even more revolting I think I will stick with my original plan:

1. Write into lonely-hearts column pretending to be McGonagall

2. Tell everyone (especially Slytherin pupils) that McGonagall has wrote in

3. Put the article everywhere so everyone can read it

4. Point and laugh while looking smug and superior

5. Keep out of her way until she forgets

But there's the problem of elephants never forgetting.

Okay. Stage one of my plan is complete. And here is the finished article.

I am looking for a non- human companion that wants lots of children. I am very old and wrinkly and if that doesn't put you off, I can do a great impression of a hen's arse. Please send in your replies to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She'll never know it was me. Right, now for stage two of my wonderful plan. Send it in and then tell the Slytherins! I love my brilliant plans. Except when they go wrong because that's just annoying.

Waiting excitedly as the morning post arrives.

Life is good and life is grand! I have ordered a Daily Prophet just so I can gloat over it. Aha, here it comes now and McGonagall's copy is right behind it. Now all I have to do is sit and wait. Phrase three of my plan will be quite hard to accomplish though, I've run out of blue-tack. I think I will have to use a spell to superglue it to the wall.

McGonagall is nearing the middle of the paper. And she's seen it! The score is now McGonagall one, Severus one! I think I had better get out of here, she looks like she is about to thump someone and I am the only candidate.

Sat hiding in my cupboard in my bedroom

It was bedlam after McGonagall read the article. Most of the students read it and guessed it was her so they all sat laughing and whispering and when McGonagall did the whole hen's arse thing they nearly died, Crabbe fell off his chair! I think she guessed it was me. I didn't complete phases three, four or five and now I'm annoyed because they were the best stages!

I'm hungry and cold. Been sat here for about an hour and I can still hear McGonagall rampaging around trying to find me. I knew I should have swiped some sausages but I was too busy running at the time.

I am playing noughts and crosses with myself on the inside of the cupboard. That is how bored I am. I haven't heard McGonagall pounding on the door for about five minutes now. Maybe it's safe to come out?

Well I was wrong

McGonagall had gone and in her place she had left the remains of my coffee cup. I hate her. This has gone too far, mashing my favourite mug just as my finger was feeling better is just plain mean. Oh god, I've spotted her striding out to the lake and she's waving her wand at the squid. I'm really worried, that squid is the bane of my life, who knows what terror she is planning with it? I think I'll stay in here for a couple more years until she retires, it won't be too long.

Sat on bed, thinking about how crummy my life is

Christmas is coming. I despise Christmas. I don't get any presents, I don't get any cards and I don't get any snogs under the mistletoe. Maybe I could live without the snogs, but the presents would be quite good. But then I would have to buy presents and give them to people and I hate shopping. I hate Christmas. The lights, the candles and especially the fairies! I swear if Dumbledore has little mini fairies again then I will end up setting fire to the nearest thing in range. I hope it's Dumbledore's beard. I hate that beard. It's so long and he gets bits of food in it when he eats and then they get all matted in so he has to cut them out and ends up with chunks missing so he looks even more stupid then when he started.

Maybe I should take up Yoga? Or get a councillor. That's it! I'll go and check the Daily Prophet out for some businesses that specialise in people that moan a lot. Me. Then I can moan to them instead of at you and they can tell me to calm down and then I can moan some more.

I love moaning.