| Late Saturday night, 12 Sept 1942 |
[06 Apr 2008|09:56pm] |
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I've just brought Crockford to the infirmary. Someone beat him to a pulp down in the dungeons; he's lucky it was my turn to patrol down there because there are more than a few people who would've just left him to his own devices.
I'm staying with him, because someone should; he didn't deserve this, no matter how much of a wanker he's been since his parents turned traitor.
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| 12 Sept 1942 |
[09 Mar 2008|10:12pm] |
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Perhaps Asher was more of a disruptive influence than I realised; since he's been gone, it's been much quieter. But then aside from him and Marvell my firsties really weren't that much trouble. I should try to talk them into playing cricket tomorrow, if I can drag them away from their books - and there's one thing I never thought would happen, but Marvell has been buried in the history section of the library all day. Maybe now he'll have a better understanding of how the wizarding world works.
It's such a shame, though, that Professor Blackwell didn't live to see Marvell take such an interest in his subject. I have to admit that much as I liked the professor, I didn't much care for his classes - far too much emphasis on goblin rebellions, and of course nobody would ever say anything to me in his hearing but there were always looks.
Yes, I think I will play cricket tomorrow. Gresham and Pettigrew are the only people who know how good I am. As for the others - well, one of my father's few useful pieces of advice is to let your enemies underestimate you and then take them for all they're worth.
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| 10 Sept 1942 |
[07 Nov 2007|12:33am] |
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I am so glad things are quieting down with my firsties, even if so much else is unsettled.
Enochian is so much more interesting now; we know enough words that we have to be careful what we say in case we get results we don't want! It's almost like being in first year again, when we could use magick but didn't know how to control it. I can already start to see how it would apply to advanced Transfiguration, and I can see why we aren't allowed to use it there yet.
Still, it's interesting to compare it to the spells we already know. The words we use there don't matter - Silencio would work as well if we'd learnt it as Quietus. It's just a focusing tool, a mnemonic that we associate with the particular power flows that make up the spell.
But spells said in Enochian change the very substance of the object! Of course, before we can change an object, we have to understand it completely. According to Plato's theory of forms, a matchstick is an example of the Matchstick form; to change any given matchstick into a needle, we have to understand what it is to be a matchstick and how that is different from a needle. I'm almost embarrassed to remember how excited I was in first year - what we did then was nothing at all like real Transfiguration.
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| 8 Sept 42 |
[21 Sep 2007|12:14am] |
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mood |
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guilty (a bit) |
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I really should be feeling guilty. Avalon is taking over and the first thing that happened was that Tom Forrester reduced my firsties to tears. But somehow I'm just relieved that for once they're in their own beds where they belong, being quiet. Even Asher - I overheard one of them tell him to stop crying or Forrester would get him.
I don't know how long this will last. Is it really bad of me to hope that Tom will be willing to do that again when it does wear off?
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| 6 Sept 42 |
[04 Jul 2007|02:41am] |
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mood |
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angry (at myself) |
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I should just admit it. I’ve bollixed this whole prefect job up. Half my first years have lost points already—for things besides common room clutter—and the Avalon prefects want me to meet with them. Because I can’t control Greengrass. Because I was too busy with translations and making notices for Choir Rehearsal to actually do my job. And I need to talk to Trelawney Minor about his graffiti habit. I set them to cleaning their room last night—I could hardly breathe with the smell, it was like they’d covered the floor with Crockford’s dirty socks—and in another hour or so I’ll go in for inspection.
I don’t know why I did it. Almost wilfully ignoring my responsibilities. I think I wanted to be on some other sphere where my friends weren’t fighting with each other. Everything’s gone to pot since that party at Ramsden’s. Crockford’s parents went and betrayed the country and made him complicit and he’s been an absolute wanker. And Pettigrew seems to have decided to act entirely on the very worst parts of his nature since we got back to school. Not to mention how thinking about Mablin’s father’s letter just makes me feel sick and I feel entirely awkward around him and Vieira now—and how am I supposed to face Gresham right now knowing how much he wanted and expected my badge and how he’d probably be doing a better job with it than me?
I’m whinging, aren’t I? Damn.
There’s nothing for it, I suppose, except accept my responsibilities and try to do what I can to fix my mistakes. There’s Marvell to talk to too. At least the most I have to tell Douglass is to look up from his book when Hufflepuffs are trying to kick footie-balls at him.
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| 30 Aug 42 |
[18 Oct 2006|09:17am] |
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Really, it could be worse. That's what I tell myself. I wasn't caught in flagrante (though if I had, I suspect Father would have been amused enough not to be so annoyed that I was caught at all). I really did try to get the others to stop being so wild. (I tried to get them to turn the music down, anyhow, much good I actually did.) At least I'll get my pocket money back before Christmas.
I keep telling myself these things. I think it's even starting to work.
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| 26 Aug 42 |
[26 Jun 2006|12:18am] |
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It occurs to me that I ought to write Pettigrew about co-ordinating our efforts as rising fifth-year prefects. Really, all eight of us should work together to keep the peace, but of course I don’t know all the appointees yet—just Mablin’s cousin for the girls in St Hilda's and, of course, Pettigrew for the Caerleon boys. And Pettigrew is somewhat of a friend. (Although I don’t know for sure Pettigrew got the badge, I am fairly certain he did. He is one of Mather's prize students and mentioned at the close of the school year that our Transfig master was hinting at further responsibilities for him.)
He really is a good chap underneath. I don’t know how many know it. Despite his strange (sometimes foolish) obsessions and provincial notions, he really does mean well. It bothers me somewhat how Mablin calls him an idiot-savant behind his back—though I understand better now why he began to hate Pettigrew mid-way through third year. I just think it’s a shame. We all three worked so well together when we were younger.
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| 8 Aug 42 |
[28 Mar 2006|01:16am] |
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mood |
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cautiously hopeful |
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Vieira’s having a party the Saturday before we all go back to school. I’ve already sent back my acceptance of the invitation. He is a friend and there might be someone there who wouldn’t mind that my height isn’t quite conducive to dancing.
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| 31 July 42 |
[02 Nov 2005|06:21pm] |
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I’m prefect.
I’d hoped for it, of course, but I tried not to act like it was a guarantee, because it wasn’t. Gresham’s quite responsible and Mablin’s good with little kids and Crockford is actually quite authoritative sometimes, if you get him when he’s talking socialism.
Well. I shall try not to brag.
I have to be at Gresham’s in a few hours. I better pack this up.
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