Blaise Zabini needs to run fast.

Someone ought to do something about Myrtle. A bloke can't even use the loo without that bloody ghost trying to ogle the old chap.

She looked far too pleased about it, too.

Warded to Pansy

I have a parcel for you, Madam Head Girl. Could you spare a moment from making yourself happy so that I can make a proper delivery?

[Warded to Pansy]

Too busy to spare a moment or two for a quick chat between old friends?

[Warded to the Slytherin 7th year males and Stephen Cornfoot.]

I don't know about you lot, but I'm getting quite tired of a few select students writing whatever disrespectful tripe crosses their minds with no real repercussions. Detention hasn't affected that at all, and it's obvious they have no respect for IS members, regardless of whether or not we're enforcing school rules.

It occurred to me that they might develop a little sense with the proper motivation. What do you think of collecting a few choice entries and passing them on to our professors and Headmaster? I'm sure they'll be interested to see what students are writing in their spare time.

[Warded Private]

Mum broke up with her Egyptian fellow this week. It hardly bothers me, since I didn't know him well, but the timing is odd. Usually she adores Valentine's Day and the gifts and dates that come with it.

I hope she's not expecting anticipating a grand gesture from me now that she's single, but the funny thing is - I really don't think she is. Her letter didn't include a guilt trip or large hints about spending Easter holiday with her. It was far too casual, frankly.

It doesn't take genius to suss out what that means, either: someone else already has her attention. Perhaps I won't go home at all - Merlin knows who'll be hanging around.

Why must all these rags assume we've got the intelligence of a flobberworm? I don't need to read a paper to suss out that DA members are foes. And fools, for that matter. Please.

The only real bit of information was in the last section, particularly since the newspapers magically appeared in our common rooms, much like the DA's decrees. When you continue drawing attention to yourself, you can't stay out of the spotlight forever. Outwardly questioning our professors' states of mind will lead to a worse punishment than the Trouble Table, I daresay.

All that aside, the raid on the Hufflepuff dorms proved to be quite interesting.

If you see Smith around the castle, tell him he looks pretty. Frankly, his mates ought to be worried about his self-image and self-identification. He's got more feminine things than Celestina Warbeck's personal wardrobe - cosmetics, undergarments, the lot. And knickers with his name and mine. Odd, even for him, and I feel the need to make it known that no matter how pretty a girl he can make himself, I'm not interested. Best comfort him now. I'm sure he'll appreciate a lacy handkerchief. Perfumed, if you can.

Quick, that's probably up your alley, isn't it? I'm sure Smith would appreciate a hug.

And lastly, Eidelberg, it pained me to take your contraband the most. I do hope you can take care of the situation with magical means. Or manual means, if it comes down to it.

So it seems feng shui is becoming so popular that a few people decided to try it out in the Great Hall. It's too bad it hasn't improved their luck any. I think it would be wise to consult the books before trying again - something placed for protection in Miss Patil's sitting area, perhaps.

The Carrows might have also reacted better on a full stomach. It's worth keeping in mind, for next time.

Daphne

I hope you had a lovely birthday, Daphne. I thought about having Crabbe appropriate a proper gift for your birthday, but came to the conclusion that none of the younger students likely have anything worth giving you. (And if they did, I'm not sure Crabbe would recognize its value.)

I suppose you'll have to settle for a promise to make our gala date a good one.

Warded to Daphne

Daphne, have you accepted an invitation to the gala from anyone, yet?

[Warded to the Slytherin 7th year boys]

How did a poster by Dumbledore's Army get into OUR Common Room?

[End Ward]

Some people must think they're very clever.

Professor Slughorn made sure to remind me of the Slug Club dinner on Sunday. I wonder if he'll be introducing us to another famous ex-pupil? I think he's had a rough go of it, really, since a fair few old members have been accused of stealing magic. Who will send him things now?

You know, I think the only downfall to this Quidditch season may be that betting on the Quidditch Cup winner is essentially pointless.

( There is no use of the term MILF beyond this point. )