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[02 Jan 2009|09:57pm] |
When can we get back to school again? My parents are driving me up the wall. I'm not inside for more than five minutes together without getting some lecture about what it means to be the family heir. And just what I'm doing wrong. Less quidditch, more dancing lessons, they say. I'd like to see how that dancing lesson would go, without a couple of hours of quidditch first. Not well, I'll tell you.
Thankfully, I've found a tolerable bar nearby, no apparation necessary even. Populated by the rich sons and daughters of the local politicians. Not my typical class of people at all, but they make for good prey entertainment in desperate times at least. I hope everyone else's holiday is going just as swimmingly.
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[03 Nov 2008|04:58pm] |
If anyone sees a bleeding fifth year, I had nothing to do with it.
He shouldn't have gotten so close to my bat. That's why you don't try to practice on the field when there are other people already on it.
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[10 Oct 2008|05:26pm] |
I've never been one to write in journals. This thing has been sitting on my desk, staring me down, ever since my mother slipped it into my stack of school books, while my trunk was being packed. I've passed it by enough times, I guess I thought I'd finally give it a shot.
This year is off to a fast start. Which is fine with me, the closer we are to being out of this school, the better. Quidditch is going well enough. There are some new people on the team, but they are catching on fast enough, and everyone else is playing like the holidays never happened. I'm looking forward to a game, so I can really put my beater skills to good use. It's a little different when its all your own men on the field.
If anyone's looking for me, I'll be outside. I need a smoke.
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