Black

XII // Merlin-Bloody-Bollocks-Eating-Grim

Thursday

September 17, 1977

Library

I awakened earlier than normal this morning because I've been so bloody busy lately with all my N.E.W.T preparation work that I barely have time to brush my teeth, let alone write in my precious diary. I can't handle all of this disjointedness. Soon enough I'm probably going to be so busy I will have to write multiple days at a time, and that wreaks havoc on my perfectionism.

Anyway, this week's been going as usual, aside from the Bulstrode thing. Dumbledore announced his expulsion during dinner the following day - said he was endangering the lives of other students. From my vantage point I could see Avery exchange an awfully unpleasant look with Nott and Snape, and something in that look told me that this was only the start of the 'student endangerment'. No one's mentioned anything about the ring.

Detention is same old, same old. Black attempts to make conversation and I attempt to ignore him. It's for the best, really, because he has this habit of saying things that make me annoyed and then he might end up with bats flying out of his nostrils, and that's not really much fun for anyone.

Luckily, our detentions end on Sunday, so only four more days of certified horror to go!

I guess the only unusual thing was the four boys all falling asleep in class yesterday. I mean, they do this at least once a month, but why? I don't know. Maybe they're performing some sort of cult sacrifice under the full moon. To be perfectly honest, I don't want to know.

Thursday

September 17, 1977

Muggle Studies

After the unfortunate incident with the paperweight, Professor Bunt has taken to mostly ignoring me in class, which is good because it gives me more time to stare at Remus, but also bad because it means that Bunt avoids answering any of my questions. I mean, I may be a muggleborn but I haven't exactly memorised the details of the British muggles' political system. I mean, just because you accidentally send someone to the hospital wing doesn't mean you have to act awkward around them forever.

"Eva," Remus suddenly turns to me, "can I talk to you about something? It's sort of personal, so if you don't want to know, then speak now or forever hold your peace."

There are a very large amount of things I want to say in this moment, ranging from screaming like a pterodactyl to proposing in twelve different languages, but I decide to go with the timeless, "Sure, go ahead."

Be still my beating heart.

"Well, I mean I talked to the guys about this, but James and Sirius only sort of know her, and Peter not at all, so out of all my friends, you probably know her the best."

I'm confused. "Who?"

"Dorcas." His face suddenly glows red.

Excuse me? "Dorcas as in Dorcas the Betrayer?"

He raises a perfect eyebrow, "Dorcas the what?"

"Dorcas the quidditch player."

He lowers his perfect eyebrow, "Right. Anyway, we've been getting to know each other better this year, I mean, she's sixth year so we don't have any of the same classes, but we see each other in the library and the common room and, well, that's not the point."

I have an awful feeling about this.

"The point being," he sighs, "is that next weekend is Hogsmeade weekend, and I, well I wanted to ask her to come with me, and out of everyone I know, you know her best. So, do you think if I asked, she'd say yes?"