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Botha's back to normal, but unfortunately my hair isn't. On the one hand, it's no longer changing colours, but on the other it's now pink. Pink.

Please stop giggling, Leanne.


Before you ask, my hair is now changing colours because Ben Botha's cauldron blew up during Potions yesterday, and most of it fell on his face and on the back of my head. He'll be released from the hospital wing as soon as the effect wears off, and in the meantime, since Madam Pomfrey thinks my case is not as serious as his, I'll have to walk around with this. If you ask me, Botha is the lucky one.

No, you cannot call me "the human mood ring."

I've finally realized the reason why my dorm has been smelling funny ever since we came back: there's a dead owl underneath Alexander's bed.

It's hard to help feed an animal when we cannot see it. Not that I want to see them, mind; it's just that it makes things very difficult, especially since they don't seem to like me.

Incidentally, does anyone know how to remove thestral snot stains from someone's robes? I'm sure the house elves can do this, but you never know when I'll need to take care of it myself.

Leanne, please tell your sister it's not polite to stick "kick me" notes on Luna Lovegood's people's backs. I'd do it myself, but then she'd kick me. Just because they laugh it off doesn't mean it's funny.

People, shut up about my bloody socks already! Yes, they keep on disappearing from my drawer, but I don't understand why people won't stop talking about it, especially since there's so many things to talk about that are infinitely more interesting.
And at least I don't have dead animals under my bed.


So, I finally convinced my grandfather to return home to his wife - about two weeks later than my Gran intended, and just in time for me to get back to school, but I guess it's better than nothing. But then again, I have been a bit too... well, I guess busy is the word. I had little time to talk to Granddad, as I was either drunk or too stunned with the fact that a cute girl could possibly be interested in me.

Anyway, this is to say I only managed to open my presents yesterday, as they've been waiting for me all this time. Socks? Why did everybody give me socks? They'll all vanish in a few days' time, so they were just wasting their money with these. Erm... Thank you so much, everybody for the socks touch.

On a different note, what's this about Oakby still being around? I'm not complaining, as I thought expelling him was a bit harsh; I'm just wondering what happened for the powers that be to change their minds.


Hungover. Feel icky. Drink bad.


This was the best Christmas ever.


Greetings from Brazil!

I'm having a whale of a time. It's nice and warm over here... well, it's actually hot and humid, but it's a nice change. And I've been drinking caipirinhas, so I'm a bit tipsy.

And the girls! Yes, I like girls. You can close your mouths now. There's this girl called Jussara who keeps poking me and giggling. I have no idea what she keeps saying, but it sounds like a compliment. Stebbins, you know Portuguese, right? What does "gatao" means?

So yeah. Life is great.

And before you ask, no, I haven't taken my clothes off yet. And I hope I'll be tasteful enough not to write on this while in a state of nakedidity.


This is the third time in a week that I get an owl from my gran reminding me to go "rescue" my grandfather at the expedition, lest he forget it's Christmas. Okay, so he doesn't reply to her owls, but it's nothing to worry about - and it's certainly no reason to send so many reminders to her grandson, who has already promised to go and still has to stay in school for a while longer (and who will probably stay there with his grandfather, as the combination of stifling heat, piranhas, giant mosquitoes and fire slugs is a million times better than our family gatherings). Granddad's probably too busy to reply right now, or the owls haven't reached him yet. After all, Brazil is a very long way away and there's a limit to what an owl can do.
I think my gran's problem is not that she fears my grandfather might be in danger, but what he might be up to. After all, since civilization is too far away from his study area, he's staying with a local tribe where clothing is optional, and where there are a lot of good-looking young women. However, knowing my grandfather, I doubt he has even noticed - the natives' view on these things is very unlike ours, and they behave so naturally about this that we forget they're naked. (In fact, when I was there this summer they made me feel exposed, even though I was fully clothed for a while, but that's another story.) Besides, grandfather is not a young man; I doubt nakedness is on his mind.


Before anyone asks, I kissed Harmonia Nutcombe because the poor girl was being followed around by that thing and nobody seemed to care. And it was nothing but a peck, so there's nothing to talk about.


This journal was thrust upon me a couple of months ago, but I haven't touched it since, as it had disappeared temporarily - probably to the place where my socks seem to be hiding (or where someone's hiding them, though I cannot imagine why anyone would be interested in my dirty old socks especially since most of them have holes in them).
Ahem. Anyway, it was in my rucksack today, though I cannot remember ever putting it there. Very odd.

Congratulations to Ravenclaw! Now, how does that saying go...?
Oh yeah – go team go! I hope I got it right.

Two and a half
I'd love to have a hat like Lovegood's. I doubt I'd wear it in public, though. Maybe in private, though I can't see a context in which something like that could happen.

It seems one of the first-years had detention with Umbridge, and has returned to our common room in a terrible state. She's refused to talk to anyone, and even got aggressive when her friend asked what was wrong. What did that woman do to her?
(As if it wasn't bad enough that she's refused to liberate the book on Dark creatures I needed for my research on Hinkypunks, and had the gall to suggest I check Fantastic Beasts if I ever needed anything. Since she's not stupid – though she likes to treat us as if we are – I can only assume she thinks it's funny.)

What in Rowena's name was a slice of custard pie doing next to my pillow? Did the house elves leave it there? Am I sleep-walking now?

And where the hell are my socks??

OOC: Ignore, this is for Rolf's biography

Name: Rolf Aloysius Scamander
Gender: Male
Date of birth: September 25, 1978
Year: Sixth
House: Ravenclaw
Blood status: Pureblood
Physical characteristics: Very tall and gangly, with sweet brown eyes hidden under a pair of glasses, dark hair that, according to some people (*coughtraverscough*), is groomed in a way that makes it the hair equivalent of wearing a sign with “I’m a geek. Kick me” (but which he personally would classify as a symbol of “Dork Pride”), and tanned skin, which resulted from his love for subjects and hobbies that make him spend time outside under the sun, and his preference for studying outside, under the trees, rather than in the library. His choice in clothing, which rarely varies from a large selection of khaki trousers and striped polo shirts, underlines his biggest wish – to blend in with the background. Unfortunately, the fact that he’s 6’4” makes it a bit harder for him to fulfil that wish. In spite of his size, however, he’s probably the least intimidating-looking boy in all of Hogwarts (yes, this includes the first-years), but his natural gawkiness seems to make him somewhat endearing in the eyes of girls (especially those of the Verity and Leanne persuasion), who seem to look up to “Rolfy-Wolfy” as a cuddly teddy bear, much to his bemusement.

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