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Saturday, January 8th, 2005
10:47 pm - Author's Note
I realize that I haven't updated in nearly two months. I feel bad about it, and I could make a list of excuses but I'd rather not bore you all. Instead I just wanted to give you the good news: I'm going to start writing this again. And updating regularly. But I have a 2 month backlog. So. I'm going to be back dating entries, which means they will not show up on your friends lists. I'll make a point of letting everyone know via my journal ([info]phaballa) of back dated entries.

And if anyone has any plot suggestions, please tell me! I'm afraid I'm a little lost...

-Phaballa

current mood: accomplished

(12 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Tuesday, November 23rd, 2004
11:02 pm - rules of ettiquette
103 lbs (too nervous to eat), sweets 0 (v. good), fags 36 (bad), alcohol units 0 (though am tempted to begin carrying flask)

Pansy has still not discovered solution to my being a girl, although she has raided my closet and "borrowed" my most shocking robes. Normally would never allow another person to wear my clothes for fear of contamination, but am so glad to have a properly catty person to talk to again that did not protest.

Hufflepuffs were rather put out but I simply told them that when they figure out how to make self male again, they can have entirety of wardrobe. Have not seen them since. Suspect they are angry with me.

Meanwhile have continued to meet Harry for regular snogging sessions dates so as not to arouse suspicion. Must think of good excuse to give Dark Lord when we meet over Christmas. Wonder what I should call him. Think he would probably prefer 'my lord' but wonder if perhaps he is sentimental type and wouldn't rather be called 'Father.'

Shall ask Pansy. She knows the proper ettiquette for these things far better than I.

current mood: curious

(1 hufflepuff minion | add to my army)

Wednesday, November 17th, 2004
2:04 pm - Quidditch fever
106 lbs (have been self-medicating with food), sweets 5 (re: self-medication), fags 4 (not bad), alcohol units 0

World has changed drastically since last wrote. Cannot believe what's happened since last week. Am still slightly in shock and therefore may not be usual, coherent self.

Quidditch match last Saturday changed everything. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Couldn't help but sit in Slytherin stands, appalling Hufflepuff minions to no end.

"But Harry's your boyfriend," complained Susan as I pushed her toward the Slytherin side. Whiny wench.

"My whole family's been in Slytherin," I said loftily. "And Harry doesn't need my support. He'll win regardless. Always does."

Susan gave me a funny look and I realized I'd said to much. Wasn't supposed to know that Harry'd only lost one Quidditch match his entire life, was I? Bullocks. Decided to play it off.

"His playing is legend at Durmstrang."

Managed to maneuver us directly behind Pansy. From this vantage point, could listen to her delightfully catty comments on Gryffindor's abilities without too much suspicion. An hour into the game Slytherin was losing badly, mainly thanks to Weasel Girl, who was just as insane on Quidditch pitch as she is everywhere else. Pansy made particularly good comment disparaging Weasel Girl and I laughed out loud.

Pansy turned around to glare at me. "Excuse me, but aren't you Hufflepuffs?" she said, sneering the last word. "Why don't you run along and sit with your own kind?"

Totally and utterly blame what happened next and stupid girl hormones. Have I mentioned how much I loathe being a girl? Is awful. Stupid hormones. Started to cry. Yes. Cry. Made self look like a complete idiot in front of Pansy and the rest. Susan made comforting clucking noise, which only made self look more foolish.

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise and glee. "Oh no," she gasped sarcastically, "have I made the poor ickle Hufflepuff cry? How darling."

"'M not," I said through embarrassing tears.

"What dear?" said Pansy snottily. "I didn't catch that through your sniveling."

"'M not a Hufflepuff," I said petulantly. Remember, was overcome by hateful girl hormones. Cannot be blamed for my indiscretion.

Pansy's eyes got even wider. She looked at me. Examined me, more like. Hair, face... and then she gasped. Smart, wonderful Pansy. "Draco?" she whispered, barely audible above the game. "Is that you?"

Susan laughed, but I nodded. Susan gaped at me in typical Hufflepuff manner while Pansy narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Prove it," she commanded. Love her. Love. She's so Slytherin it warms my heart.

“You wet your pants at your eighth birthday party,” I said, smirking through my tears.

That finally got her attention. Spent rest of afternoon explain situation to poor, confused Pansy who was terribly outraged on my behalf. Girl is still smitten with me, despite present state of girlishness. She is researching possible solutions even as I write (as am in library watching her do all the work). Have not yet brought up my Potter Problem with her, as suspect she might begin to do impersonations of Weasel Girl. Still, must tell her soon so that can find solution to problem.

Susan and Hannah are refusing to speak to me. Will win them back over tonight. They feel betrayed, what with their delicate Hufflepuff sensibilities. Still, a girl needs her minions, and Hannah was supposed to do my Herbology homework tonight.

current mood: relieved

(3 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Wednesday, November 10th, 2004
1:58 pm - head is exploding
104 lbs, sweets 0 (as cannot hold anything down), fags 0, alcohol units ??? (still drunk from last night)

Will never drink again. Woke up at noon and had already missed morning classes. Spent lunch hour throwing up with decided lack of minions here to hold back hair. Subsequently may now have vomit in hair but am too sick to be arsed about it. Never again. Never.

Drinking did not solve problem of having to meet Dark Lord over Christmas hols. Need to come up with plan re: Harry Situation, but head aches too much for thinking at this point. Damn Snape for telling. He is disgusting old man who needs to be taught a lesson. In fact, now that I think about it, perfect solution to all problems would be to play match maker between Snape and Weasel Girl. Would leave Harry guiltless and free to have lots of sex and babies relationship with self, and Snape would have new jail bait love interest to accost in all-new creepy and terrifying ways.

current mood: nauseated

(4 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Tuesday, November 9th, 2004
10:53 pm - drunk
Soooo drunk. Huffpuffs haf come to rescu with likor galore. Am eternly grateful. Will nevr say nother bad word about minion again. Love them. Love. loooooove.

Must go find Susan for more booze. Mmmm. boooze.

current mood: drunk

(add to my army)

9:40 am
102 lbs (stress related weight loss), sweets 0, fags 10,000 (bugger Harry and his rules, I need them), alcohol units ???? (too many to count)

Life as I know it is officially over. Realize have said this many times over in previous entries, but feel it is entirely warrented at this point. Do not know how I will go on. Is too much to handle even for a Malfoy de Mort.

Have received following letter from PF:

Dear Esmerelda-
Although I have been receiving regular reports on your progress and adjustments to the, er, situation in which you know find yourself, I felt it prudent at this time to make contact in regards to certain rumors of which I have only recently been made aware. It is my understanding that you have taken to your new...state as well as can be expected. Better, in fact. Much better. Maybe a little too well.

You see, my dear, while we all hoped that you'd adjust to your true form quickly and seemlessly, none of us expected you to throw yourself at Harry Potter the first chance you got. Please tell me that you have a plan and that this isn't a serious effort on your part to actually date the boy.

Finally, your father has decided he'd like to meet you. You will therefore be coming home for the Christmas holidays. No doubt you were looking forward to three weeks of free time to spend snogging Harry Potter (in case you can't hear the sarcasm and disgust in my words, it's very clearly there, believe me), but Our Lord has requested your presence and you will grant him this.

If you do not have a plan, Draco Esmerelda, I suggest you make one up. Now.

Yours in brother sister person-hood,
LM


Will be unceremoniously murdered by Father when he discovers have not a single clue to why have been snogging Potter all over castle with barely glimmer of ulterior motives. Must come up with plan immediately. Damn Snape for telling on me. Is probably bitter over my embarassing rejection of him. Still, man should at least wash his hair before attempting to seduce pretty young thing like self.

current mood: scared

(add to my army)

Monday, November 1st, 2004
11:58 pm - Am officially no longer a Singleton
11:30 a.m.
106 lbs (from sumptuous Ball feast), sweets 2,000, fags 0 (b.c. Harry dislikes my smoking), alcohol units 27 (but apparently favours my boozing)

Ball was fabulous. Have only just woken up, as classes were canceled in honor of recovering from Ball. Perhaps shall go in search of food, as am quite famished despite last night's Feast. Perhaps will find Potter Harry in Great Hall and will convince him to take self on lovely romantic picnic.

11:37 a.m.
Still, despite smashing time with Harry at Ball, perhaps would be wiser to keep self absent from his presence for a bit, in order to create aura of mystery. Do not wish to seem too available. As Weasel Girl proved, being available is sure-fire way to get stood up. Almost feel sorry for Weaselette. The look on the girl's face when Harry showed up at ball with self was pathetic. Had Creevey take a picture anyway, to remember my moment of retribution forever.

Perhpas Weasel girl wouldn't have seemed so pathetic if she hadn't been forced to take Longbottom to Ball at last minute.

12:05 p.m.
Am going to Great Hall. Will simply be aloof but polite with Harry if see him.

12:10 p.m.
Or perhaps will drag him off to nearest broom cupboard for quick snog.

4:15 p.m.
Have just returned from delicious snogging session most fruitful expidition to Great Hall, where found Harry and the Dreadful Duo eating lunch. Harry abandonned friends to sit with self, and called me his girlfriend in front of entirety of Hufflepuff. Did not correct him for some reason. Besides which, minions seemed so happy for me, and did not want to spoil their joy.

current mood: flirty

(5 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Sunday, October 31st, 2004
1:49 pm - preparation, preparation, preparation
105lbs (have stopped eating so can fit into robes), sweets 0 (v.good), fags 47 (made Potter fetch me some from Hogsmeade), alcohol units 12,000,000 (approximately)

Have already begun preparing for Ball. Must look absolutely perfect in order to keep Potter's mind off orange-haired Weasel freak, who is sure to be dressed in manner of harlot or similar in pathetic attempt to regain Potter's favour. Minions are being absolute darlings helping self get ready. Have come to my aid in style of Rainbow Tour for Evita. Love my minions. Is too bad they are Hufflepuffs.

current mood: excited

(2 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

12:30 pm - Like father, like son daughter...
27 October 9:15 p.m.
107 lbs (am beginning to gain water weight again, horrible), sweets 14 (re: mestruation-related disgustingness), fags 3 (but have run out), alcohol units 0

Have officially gone utterly, horribly mad. Perhaps am more like Dark Lord father than originally assumed. Aside from his serious skin problems (someone must do something about the state of his, erm, scales) and terribly-pitched voice, obviously. Have discovered that now share at least three things in common with DL:
1) am mad (or at the very least extremely close to edge of reason)
2) enjoy torturing Mudbloods for fun and profit (although as Mudbloods are usually also disappointingly poor, is not much profit in it)
3) have repulsive yet undeniable obsession with Harry Potter

Wish I were dead. No, wish Potter were dead, thus ending ridiculous obsession.

Met Potter at Quidditch Pitch for 'talk' as planned. Wore deliciously slutty robes stolen from Abott (proving once again that Hufflepuffs have their uses, after all), curled hair, and wore liberal amounts of silvery glitter to bring out grey in eyes. Looked amazingly sexy and fabulous. If liked girls in smallest measure, would've been tempted to ravish self. Was tempted regardless, as am sexy young thing.

"You wanted to talk?" I asked, favouring him with rare but deadly smile.

"Er, yeah. Well you see, the thing is--"

"I do hope this isn't about the Ball, Harry," I said, squeezing his hand between my own. "You haven't changed your mind. have you? I've really been looking forward to fianlly spending some quality time with you."

Potter was beginning to get that glazed look in his eyes. Perfect. "But what about Ginny--"

I cut him off the only way I thought would be effective. With my lips. Am completely digusted with self. Have now kissed Harry Potter on purpose without being totally pissed. And what's worse... believe I enjoyed kiss. Will be beaten and strung up by fellow Death Eaters (when finally gain honor of joining Father's army) for this.

Spent ridiculously long time snogging Potter. By the time I'd finished, he couldn't remember red-haired wench's name, much less what he wanted to tell me about her. He's coming by Hufflepuff common room on Sunday before Ball to meet me so we can walk down together. Great unmerciful Salazer, what have I done? I had a plan, damnit. A plan! Now am not even sure still wish to humiliate Potter and break his heart. Unless, of course, it necessitates making up in sexy, passionate way later. Is it possible? Are the Hufflepuff minions rubbing off on me?

Ugh. Hate. Hate. Now must go plan accessories for Ball.

current mood: crazy

(3 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Friday, October 29th, 2004
1:41 pm - Author's Note
I just wanted to let everyone know that during November, my updates may be a bit scattered and delayed. I'm doing the National Novel Writer's Awareness month thingy. That means that during November I'll be working on an original novel. The goal: to write 50, 000 words over the course of the month. I don't foresee this getting in the way of Draco's diary, but if I don't post for long stretches at a time, this is why. Wish me luck, and if you want to read my novel and help me out when I get into difficulties, check out my fiction journal, [info]phaballa.

Thanks!

-[info]phaballa

ETA: I'll be compiling October's entries and comments into chapter form fairly soon. I anyone who has commented does not want their comments included, please let me know. By contrast, if any anonymous commenters want to be credited in the headers as contributers, please leave me a comment here and let me know who you are. Thanks!

current mood: excited
current music: Champaign Supernove--Oasis

(add to my army)

Tuesday, October 26th, 2004
3:14 pm - ball-related madness
104 lbs (v.good), sweets 3, fags 14 (v.v.good), alcohol units 0 (alas)

Potter is being strangely resistant to all efforts of winning him back. He seems ridiculously attached to Weasel Girl for no apparent reason. Still, am confident he will come around. Received following note from him just this morning during Herbology:

Esmerelda-
Please meet me at the Quidditch Pitch after dinner tonight.
We need to talk.
-Harry


Once I have him alone, he won't stand a chance against my many and varied charms. Poor boy. I'd almost feel sorry for him if the very honor of my name weren't as stake here. Never let it be said that a Weasley managed to outdo me. Besides which, PF is guranteed to pitch a fit if do not make good showing at ball. Am hoping he will relent on Firebolt issue if make him proud by utterly humiliating Potter at ball.

Perhaps if am convincing enough, Potter will let me ride his broomstick.

current mood: devious

(6 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Thursday, October 21st, 2004
1:48 pm
Is very difficult to write during Herbology, but must get thoughts down now, while still fresh.

Believe Potter is coming around. Has been staring at me throughout lesson in that befuddled, drooling, mouth breathing way of his. Is endearing disgusting, really, but cannot really blame him as am fabulously sexy, especially in slutty robes. Potter doesn't stand a chance. Soon, Weasel Girl will be crying her eyes out. Hurrah! Slytherin Hufflepuff triumphs again!

current mood: accomplished

(2 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

9:44 am
104 lbs (v. good), sweets 0, fags ??? (too many to count), alcohol units 0 (damn Hufflepuffs refusing to drink on weeknights)

7:45 a.m.
Am torn between attempting to steal Potter away from Weasel Girl and focusing all energies on seduction of Beau. Is difficult decision that requires much deliberation. Unfortunately have only an hour until breakfast, and am wasting precious minutes writing in diary.

7:50 a.m.
Consider my situation: if I leave Potter and the Weaselette to their (disgusting) ways, will be severely lacking in date for ball. Originally thought this would be preferable so sexy Defense prof could see where my affections lie. However now realize will simply make me look like dateless looser in Crabbe and Goyle fashion or similar. Do not want Beau (or rest of school, for that matter) to think am too loosery to get date for ball.

7:55 a.m.
Also do not want rest of school to think Potter chose Weasel Girl over self. Would be ultimate embarassment for school to believe he prefers crazed orange-haired harridans to self. Is matter of pride, really.

8:00 a.m.
That's it. Am stealing him away. Will call emergency session of the minions to discuss possible methods of attack. Will not have school thinking that am somehow below a Weasley, of all things. Once have made Potter fall desparately in love with self again, will break up with him in very public, humiliating way at ball. That will teach him to mess with my affections me.

8:50 a.m.
Hufflepuff minions have risen wonderfully to challenge in manner of knights storming the castle or similar. Hannah has loaned me her silver eye shadow and Susan has been teaching me how to play nice with others. Sigh. This is all very tedious, but my pride is at stake here. Must not allow Weasel Girl to steal what is rightfully mine Potter. Is moral imperitive.

current mood: devious

(3 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Tuesday, October 19th, 2004
4:15 pm
105lbs (weight fluctuating rapidly due to stress), sweets 0 (too angry to eat), fags 20, alcohol units 0

Is it possible to die of humiliation? If so, believe am now perfect candidate for just such a death. Sent following note to Potter with disastrous results:
Dear Potter-
I don't hate you completely, but you are an idiot.
Sincerely-
Esmerelda


Believed it would alleviate own guilt and perhaps some of Potter's undoubted misery over my rejection of him without further encouraging him that he has any chance with lovely, perfect self. However.

Arrived at breakfast late and was immediately distracted by sexiness that is Beau. Immediately began planning re-seduction, despite initial failed seduction, when Susan elbowed me in ribs. Gave her healthy glare, as does not do to allow others, particularly unworthy Hufflepuffs, to touch self, especially not in such a violent manner. But before could give her proper scolding, she pointed toward the Gryffindor table and began giggling wildly into her pumpkin juice.

"I guess he finally took off the blinders," she said.

Could only stare at horrible, disgusting sight before me. Weasel Girl was sitting on Potter's lap, and he was feeding her bits of fruit and--ugh!--kissing her between times. Was revolting. Wished would die on spot so wouldn't have to watch another second of it. Have now begun to hate Weasel Girl nearly more than do Weasel. Wish they'd all fall off the Astronomy Tower and do rest of world huge favor.

Potter is awful, betraying turncoat. Is supposed to be in love with me, trying desperately not to kill self after harsh rejection from me. Instead is making google eyes at orange-haired freak and completely ignoring me. Hate him. Hate, hate, hate.

current mood: angry

(12 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Sunday, October 17th, 2004
7:51 pm
7:30 p.m.
Still, feel a bit guilty about the Potter Thing. Suppose should never have gotten pissed with him about, as do tend to get quite friendly. Perhaps should send brief note relaying such.

7:35 p.m.
Will not send note. Am being ridiculous sap.

7:42 p.m.
But what if he becomes so depressed at loss of self that he does something decidedly stupid, like hurt himself? Would feel even more guilty then, although on bright side, would not have him staring at self during class in ridiculous puppy-like manner.

7:51 p.m.
But on other hand, if that happens Weasle Girl is sure to go mad with grief and come after me. Should probably send note simply to avoid being horribly mutilated by crazed Potter groupies. But not because feel sorry for him or care about him in any way. Is survival instinct only.

current mood: contemplative

(10 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

3:29 pm
Suspicions that may have kissed Potter last night confirmed. Have just gotten back from lunch, where Potter first sat at Hufflepuff table in blatent disregard for unspoken school dynamics. Then attempted to kiss self on cheek. In front of Beau, no less. Was livid enough to kill, but did not want to make bad impression in front of still-far-too-sexy-even-if-is-ponce Defense prof. Settled for breaking Potter's heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Was quite enjoyable actually.

"Last night was great, Esmie," said Potter, sitting down next me and proceeding to ignore my glare. I grunted. "I'm so relieved. I was worried that you might not like me after all."

"In case you've suddenly lost your ability to see," I replied, "I'm in dire need of coffee and silence. And last night, I believe I vomitted at least ten galleons' worth of Honeydukes chocolate onto your robes, so I don't see what you're so cheerful about."

Then he attempted to violate my person with kiss on the cheek. Jerked away and glared reprovingly.

"What's wrong, Esmie?" asked Idiot Who Lived with a frown.

"Firstly, never call me Esmie again. It's a horrid nickname and I'll curse you within an inch of your life it ever again passes your lips. Secondly, I don't like you--you were right first time round. You're annoying, clingy, and you're not even all that good at Quidditch. Thirdly, you're an idiot."

Potter looked crushed. Excellent. Felt immediate surge of delight. But then something strange happened. Do not like to even think about it, as is quite disturbing, but... felt a bit guilty. Do not understand what is wrong with me. Perhaps Hufflepuff is catching, like some sort of insidious, disgusting virus? Wonder if Pomfrey has cure for developing a conscience?

Still, did not back down. Tamped down firmly on guilt and gave him meaningful glare. Resisted urge to apologize. Gah! Realize now that truly must not be Malfoy, if am having to resist such things. PF would never feel guilty about such a thing. After all, PF probably cheated on Mum with Dark Lord. Mum is very understanding woman, but sometimes I think she must be bit daft to put up with such things.

Waited for Potter to go away and communed with my only true love--coffee. Poor Potter. But still, mustn't lower standards just because feel sorry for pathetic orphan with only mudbloods and poverty-stricken Weasles for friends.

current mood: sick

(add to my army)

10:59 am - head exploding
106 lbs (b.c. spent night puking), sweets 0 (can't hold anything down), fags 0, alcohol units ???

Woke up this morning still drunk. Feel dizzy and head aches and wish I were dead. Not only because am still drunk and have no idea how will manage to get Transfiguration essay finished for tomorrow. But also because suspect may have kissed Potter last night in drunken, desperate foolishness.

Death is preferable. But on the bright side, also suspect may have vomitted all over Potter directly afterward.

Must go find coffee. Sweet, life-giving coffee.

current mood: drunk
current music: She Talk to Pixies--Black Crowes

(3 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Saturday, October 16th, 2004
5:06 pm - operation seduction
108lbs (bad), sweets 7,000,000 (but am having breakdown), fags 12,000,000 (re: breakdown), alcohol units 12 (thank Salazer)

World has officially come to end. Have reached all-time low and am now wishing for swift and painless death. Am even considering putting self in way of Weasle Girl to accomplish said death, but lack the motivation to move from bed.

Can barely stand to write these words, but must record end of life as I know it for posterity's sake. World will want to know how the great Draco Malfoy Esmerelda de Mort was finally brought down.

Beau has summarily rejected me. Is impossible, and yet has assuredly happened. Cannot fathom motivation behind rejection. Am beautiful, young, sexy thing. Yes, rack is ridiculously small. But hair is silvery and flowing! Skin is flawless and glows with own inner light. Eyes are intriguing shade of grey! Beau is obviously blind simpleton. Or pouf. Yes, that must be it. Beau is stupid and pouf. Is only sensible explanation. Even so, rejection is painful.

Will write more later, but currently have pressing need to get pissed. Perhaps will find Potter and convince him to sneak into Hogsmeade for liquid reinforcements. Yes, realize have not even eaten dinner yet and is far too early to begin consuming the massive amounts of alcohol am planning on. Do not care. Am rebel with cause.

Beau is lovely gorgeous maddeningly sexy silly pouf who doesn't know what he's missing.

current mood: distressed

(4 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

Tuesday, October 12th, 2004
12:33 pm
Pansy Parkinson is evil, mean-spirited, hateful, and an all-around bitch.

I miss her terribly.

Made the mistake of attempting to talk to her during Divination. "Parkinson," I said in my most charming voice (which is, I assure you, extremely charming), "I was wondering if you could help me out with a bit of a problem I've got."

"If you're going to beg me to teach you how to dress and properly apply your make-up," she replied with a derisive snort, "you should be aware right now that I don't do lost causes."

That saucy wench.

"Well," said I, tossing hair in manner of shampoo model or similar, "I'd never ask that sort of advice from you, my dear, as it's quite clear you're as useless at accessorizing as Longbottom is at everything."

"Excuse me, my dear," said Pansy in deliciously scathing manner, "but I don't waste my time talking to silly Hufflepuffs who don't understand their place."

Before I could reply (was very much enjoying bantering insults with dear Pansy) Traloony interrupted conversation very rudely by insisting we work on our star charts.

"You must learn to See with your Inner Eyes, my dears. The beyond may attempt to contact you at any time, and your Inner Eye must be focused and prepared!" Woman is clearly insane. Another tricky machination of Dumbledore's in his conspiracy to drive us all mad. Still, miss Pansy quite a bit now. Why did I have to get Sorted into Hufflepuff? Is absolutely ridiculous for me of all people! Am not loyal in the least. Have no desire to do good deeds, ever. In fact, would happily see most of school dead. Am very un-Hufflepuff in all ways. For example, am currently planning the seduction of a professor, which, if successful, will break approximately 54 school rules. Don't believe there has ever been a Hufflepuff who cared so little for morals and values and honor.

Speaking of seduction, now have a 4-point plan of attack:
1) Wear sluttiest robes I own to every Defense lesson
2) attempt to get detention with Beau for sole purpose of seducing him in empty classroom, dungeon, broom cupboard, or wherever possible (that won't result in staining aforementioned robes)
3) Beat Gryffindor soundly in first Quidditch match to catch Beau's eye. Believe I can do this through vast amounts of cheating and distracting Potter with aforementioned robes.
4) If all else fails, slip Lust Potion into his punch at ball. May be ridiculous Hufflepuff, but am still devious and amoral. Thank Merlin.

current mood: devious

(2 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)

9:23 am
103 lbs (excellent), sweets 0 (v. good), fags 9 (but helps keep down weight so okay), alcohol units 0

History of magic is most boring class ever invented. Believe Professor Binns is actually sadist and has invented a new and terrifying form of torture in his teaching style. Have to wonder what Dumbledore was thinking, keeping ghost who doesn't recognize the occurance of any event post Inquisition. Knew Dumbledore was idiot, but have never considered that he might be in on the torture conspiracy. That smarmy bastard has us all fooled. Luckily have diary to distract me, or else might end up batty as Weasle Girl.

Everyone is obsessed with bloody ball and I can't seem to escape their madness. Just last night at weekly Bewitching Beau meeting, Susan Bones spent entire hour trying to figure out perfect style for her ridiculous amount of hair. Should've realized that Hufflepuffs would be useless at seduction, as are, after all, Hufflepuffs and pretty much useless at everything. Will have to carry out Operation Seduce Beau by self, in manner of strong, independent libber or similar. But will continue to use waxing charms on unsightly body hair. Would not be caught dead with lapsed waxing charms.

Perhaps will attempt to speak to Pansy about seduction techniques during Divination, as class is utterly useless anyway. Pansy has been attempting to seduce me for years, and therefore must know something about it. Not that she's been successful, mind you... hmm. Perhaps someone more experienced would be better choice. Wonder if McGonagall knows anything on the subject. Strike that. Thought of McGonagall even attempting seduction, much less being successful at it, has made me sick.

Excellent. Now can escape to hospital wing to get something for stomach.

current mood: discontent
current music: the drone of Binn's voice

(2 hufflepuff minions | add to my army)


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