Witterings of One Definitely Not Related to Uncle Geoffrey

Chapter Four: Love the Lovely Best Friend

Friday, September 12th, 1994

4:34 a.m.

Cannot bloody sleep.

New school year not going so well. Started off okay and then sort of fizzled and tried to die, but had large explosion while in process of fizzling and is now just plain unbearable. Also is not letting me die yet. Evil school year.

So far, have accidentally insulted v. strict Transfiguration professor, somehow gotten a mass of beetles tangled in my hair, showed off bright blue knickers to the Weasley twins, been mistaken for male child with name of Lavender by own mother, had nose eaten off by frightening fanged plant, and, lastly-and-I-only-wish-leastly, climbed on top of Seamus Finnigan and unclasped robes to reveal lack of blouse, all while acting like possessed squirrel.

…Why, oh, why am I still alive?

Urgh. Not so bad, I suppose. Was under Imperius Curse, and entire class can attest to that. Lack of blouse will take some explaining, but can always tell truth; i.e. was v. late.

Must try to sleep. Really must. Is ridiculous, this insomnia thing which isn't insomnia but simply refusal to go to sleep because am v., v. afraid of being plagued by dreams in which Uncle Geoffrey prances around on Seamus Finnigan's chest and then proceeds to rip off robes to reveal shiny black bra with rhinestones on spelling out LEGALIZE THE MERCY KILLING OF MY NIECE…

I am going to die.

5:12 a.m.

Would appreciate it if could at least go to sleep, though. Am assuming this is what is meant by "long and painful death". Even longer for me than for silly little hospital patient people because they can go to sleep and do not constantly have to live with their horrid little selves every moment of every day. Literally.

Baaaaaagh.

6:12 a.m.

Staring at clock v. amusing activity indeed. Almost reached inside clock and fiddled with hands to speed up time before remembered that time operates quite independently of my alarm clock and setting my clock at seven-fifteen a.m. will not, in fact, make it seven-fifteen a.m. It will just confuse me when it rings tomorrow morning at seven a.m. and I shoot out of bed, into shower, and into clothes before realizing that it is somewhere around six-thirty in the morning and I have all of two and a half hours to do nothing in.

Sounds quite appealing, actually.

Think will set clock forward. Not forty-eight minutes, merely five.

6:22 a.m.

Or ten. Ten sounds better. Should make it ten.

6:28 a.m.

Fifteen is a nice, round quarter, though.

6:34 a.m.

Ahh, the nice-ness of believing that it is six-thirty four when in fact it isn't, it's just six-seventeen. Makes me happy, though. Am now fully justified in getting out of bed and taking nice, long, hot shower in fourth-year girls' bathroom that is not flooded and the plumbing of which is actually working and the hot water is hot, but not scalding.

7:01 a.m.

It is a SIGN! I haven't jinxed myself! This year will get better. I know it will. I didn't flood the bathroom and didn't stop up the plumbing and didn't take a terrifyingly cold or scalding hot shower. Life is getting better.

Now, to convince the rest of the school about this.

Urg.

Maybe I'll just go to breakfast early. I did skip dinner out of embarrassment and all.

7:15 a.m.

…Oh, dear.

Apparently Seamus has had the same idea.

Grr. Mustn't run away. Mustn't run away. Must be strong being with backbone of steel as opposed to weak being with backbone of jellylike substance resembling own slightly overlarge bum. Must have courage and face fellow embarrassed creature with resolution and the significant absence of fear.

OhGodohGodohGod, swallow me right now and digest me if you have to, as long as my feet don't make me sit down next to—

7:32 a.m.

"Er, hello, Lavender."

Meep.

"Hi," I squeaked. "Lovely morning, what?"

He sort of stared at me as if I had suddenly not only ripped off my robe in front of him but my bra as well, assuming that he was gay, meaning that he was staring at me in horror of the most horrific kind imaginable and unimaginable.

"Yeah, it's…it's nice."

"Listen," I sort of gabbled uncontrollably, reaching across the table to try to steady myself on something. "I know that what happened yesterday was completely stupid and unnecessary and just plain embarrassing, but you have to believe me because I didn't mean to rip off my robes in front of you; it was Professor Moody, it's all his fault, it really is, and I swear he made me do it; I was under the Imperius Curse and I couldn't control anything anyway and the blouse thing wasn't on purpose; I was just really, really late that morning and forgot to find my blouse during lunch because of Dean and the peppers and I was almost late for Moody's class anyway so I couldn't do anything during lunch and I didn't mean to climb on top of you; it's what squirrels do anyhow and I was just told to be a squirrel and I didn't mean to be a stripping squirrel, I really didn't, and…"

There was a really, really long pause just then, in which I stared at Seamus fanatically with great big boiled-gooseberry eyes and he tried very, very hard to run away by staying in one place.

"Um," I said, finally realizing what I had just managed to babble. "Right. I'll…er, see you in class, then?"

"'Kay," he said, looking utterly terrified, and I promptly turned around and scuttled off like a scuttling rabbit, which was a very good move on my part as there is no such thing as a scuttling rabbit and I desperately wanted to imitate that habit of not existing.

9:05 a.m.

Oh, the lovely loveliness of losing myself in my…er, very, very hard work of reviewing Cheering Charms. Love this class. Lovely, lovely class. No one pays attention to you except your very best friend Parvati who is partnered with you and the little three-foot-high professor who does not matter anyway as you can't be embarrassed by someone three feet high. You just pretend you don't see them, and voilà! Love the lovely Charms class.

…Oh, dear, Defense Against the Dark Arts is next.

Gaaaaaaaaah.

10:50 a.m.

Managed to sneak into class before it started and only got one or two rather odd looks. V. good. Day is improving already. Ah, and there is Professor Moody, too, with the v. formidable attendance sheet that will not have a tardy mark next to my name this time!

"Miss Brown?"

"Present!" I chirped, smiling innocently and in a way that suggested that Professor Moody please please please not make any mention whatsoever to yesterday's incident—

"Miss Brown's blouse?"

Grr. Grr, grr, grr. Grrrrrr.

"Miss Brown, is your blouse present, absent, or tardy?"

"Present," I mumbled, sinking down into my seat and wishing for a suddenly appearing caveman to throw a very sharp spear at Professor Disturbingly Sadistic.

11:55 a.m.

There is no way I will be able to escape this man's horrible, horrible sense of humour as long as I live.

"For next Thursday, I want you to have a thirty-two-inch essay on the reasons making the Imperius Curse an Unforgivable, citing at least five good examples. Miss Brown's name may only be mentioned in one."

Grrr

12:06 p.m.

Am being Strong Woman, though, and going to lunch, because is apparently useless to hide from humiliation anymore and I do not let myself become bogged down by scarring experiences involving stripping squirrels, and, anyway, am hungry.

1:08 p.m.

Love History of Magic. Love it. Love, love, love. May even draw hearts around name of course in schedule. Aaah. Love Professor Binns, a lovely lovely professor who does not take delight in embarrassing his students.

1:09 p.m.

Good night.

2:30 p.m.

Good morning.

2:51 p.m.

Good God, where is everyone else?

2:52 p.m.

Oh, Merlin, I have Potions in eight minutes.

2:59 p.m.

Agh! On time, on time, on time! Yess! Yess, yess, yess!

3:01 p.m.

"Your assignment today will consist of brewing the second exercise in the Healing section of your textbook on page forty-seven. It will need to brew over the weekend and will have to be stirred regularly before you finish on Tuesday. I do hope that your Repetition Charms are up to the challenge."

…Bastard, he is, really, inveigling Charms into a subject that is very obviously not Charms, as the professor in the room is not kindly and squeaky and three feet tall and in possession of a generous, forgiving nature. Also, you know, there's the whole thing with the cauldrons and the ingredients and all.

Goody. Page forty-seven. Most commonly used to heal second-degree burns; is to be daubed on the skin, not poured; see article on page 396 on Frederic the Skinless.

…Um, will really have to remember that. "Lavender the Skinless" isn't a particularly good way to be remembered for posterity. Daubed, not poured.

3:14 p.m.

Okay. Fifteen dried ears of a Crup, thinly sliced, two tablespoons dried fairy wings, three Chinese Fireball scales, boiled together in half a cup twining honeysuckle juice and three cups armadillo bile for half an hour or until mixture simmers down to exactly three cups…add blardy blardy salamander tail blaaaaaaagh.

3:20 p.m.

"Parvati, what comes after the armadillo bile…"

4:15 p.m.

Aah, have potion sorted out. Lovely. Is now happily simmering in cauldron complete with extract of violets, which Parvati almost forgot but which I saw just in time. And it makes me happy, anyway, to remember something when she doesn't. It's like being Watson and figuring out something Sherlock didn't, except I don't think that ever happened and Parvati isn't exactly Sherlock and I do hope I'm not as stupid as Watson.

…Er, okay, so it's nothing like. But it's the same general feeling sort of thing.

4:35 p.m.

"Miss Parkinson, please distribute Tuesday's homework."

Ooh, goody, wonder how I did. Hopefully an A…though, seeing as this is Professor Snape, I might as well hope for an O in Not Being Me.

4:37 p.m.

Oh! What? Yes! Yess! An A! Hahahahahaha! Haha! Ha! Yess! YessssWorking does pay off! YESSS!

4:39 p.m.

Love Professor Snape. Lovely, lovely man; so generous and nice and fair and…

"Miss Parkinson, what is this?"

"I don't know, sir," Pansy said with an odd smirk, handing him a bit of folded parchment with something written on it in red ink. "It looks like a letter, sir, but it was in the homework stack."

"Let me see."

Hmm, wonder what that is.

"Do we have," he asked with a funny sort of smirk, "a Mr. Lavender Brown in this class?"

…Oh, no. Oh, no.

The evil smirk made its appearance again. "No? I may just have to read this letter aloud, then, to see if anyone recognizes it."

I shot my hand up into the air very quickly. "Er, Professor Snape—"

"Dear Lavender," he commenced, fixedly not looking over at my frantically waving hand.

"Professor! Please! Professor! Professor!"

"I do hope you're well, darling," he continued, "and focusing on your schoolwork and not taking after Auntie I'll-just-marry-the-milkman-for-a-lark-what-do-you-mean-no-grounds-for-a-divorce. I must tell you the funniest thing that happened the other day. Pauline and I took your Uncle Geoffrey out to lunch at the new open-air restaurant just across the street to cheer him up; the poor old thing's so dreadfully focused on his breasts and won't listen to me when I tell him that people love him for who he is, not for his Wonderbra. I think the effects of the Engorgement Charm are diminishing, actually, because he's been measuring and he's about an inch smaller in the bust.

"Well, we bought him several drinks, and he started crying and whining after he'd had about three shots of firewhisky, and eventually we got it out of him that he had been walking around in the women's department in Madam Malkin's, and the poor man was attacked by Malkin and her tape measure and he walked out of that store with two sets of aquamarine dress robes for women with double Ds before he knew what he was doing. Pauline and I made him try them on for us—and what do you know, he looks stunning in aquamarine! He's been parading about London ever since we took him to get his colors done in a total state of complete happiness and I must say, if there's anything I love it's a man who knows how to have a good time.

"Darling, do you still have that wonderful nail-polish remover of yours that dissolves those nasty artificial nails? Send a bit of it to me, will you? I've had an accident with the nail-glue and I do have to get my finger unglued before I go in to work on Monday. It's not easy to kiss people, anyway, with your middle finger stuck to your nose, and people keep thinking that you're telling them to do unmentionable things.

"Oh! I ran into Warren from the Department of Magical Injuries yesterday, darling, and he gave me a nice little jar of ointment for that rash I had a couple of days ago. Your Cousin Raymond was with me and they're seeing each other as we speak, although I'm not sure I want to know what they're seeing of each other. But don't you worry, darling, your time will come; you really aren't a complete failure, no matter what you tell yourself.

"Love, Mum"

4:57 p.m.

There was a sort of stunned silence, and then the giggles began, swiftly turning into hysterical laughter and leaving only two people in the entire room giggle-free.

Parvati

5:03 p.m.

"Parvati Patil," I howled, pinning her against the wall outside the dungeon, "what were you thinking?"

"Nothing," she managed, trying very hard not to look guilty. "I didn't…"

"You did!" I wailed. "You did, you did, you did! How did you get that letter, how?"

"It was sticking out of your trunk," she admitted, having the decency to blush. "I'm sorry, Lavender, I really am, and I tried to get it back, but Snape wouldn't let me near the homework stack, and…"

"Ungh," I groaned, slumping and letting go of her collar. "I will not have a boyfriend for the rest of my life. I won't have a friend. People will not talk to me in the halls for fear of catching the Virus of Just Being ME. Why, Parvati, why?"

She sort of looked at me seriously then, and for once looked past the singed hair and the frenzied look and said, after straightening her collar, "Lavender, I'm your friend."

I blinked there for a minute before realizing she was right, and then there was this sort of peaceful moment in which everything was all right and this knot in my insides got an early Christmas present of an extraordinarily fuzzy jumper and I hugged her, and she hugged me back, and it was a typical best-friend moment, and it was lovely.

Then, of course, Pansy Parkinson swept past me, stopped, stared at my chest for a bit, and suggested in a really catty way that perhaps I should start taking chest-enhancing lessons from my Uncle Geoffrey, and the world was back to normal, especially when she assured me that I was indeed a complete failure no matter what my mother thought.

Ooh, I can't wait till I think of something truly horrible to do to her one day, because, believe me, it will be scathing.

…Ooooooh.

Pansy the Skinless.

I shouldn't.

I wouldn't.

I mustn't.

I could.

Oooh, I could.

Homework

Herbology: done

Care of Magical Creatures: none

Divination: dream diary which I must remember to edit

Transfiguration: work on cartography project, plus read chapter five, summarize, and do questions copied down from blackboard

Charms: read and take notes on chapter four; do exercises at end of chapter and review Cheering Charms for practical quiz on Tuesday

Potions: that potion-thing that's been simmering in the dungeons. Must remember to sneak downstairs and see if is still being stirred and if fire has not gone out.

Advanced Astronomy: two-foot essay on the studies made by the Romans of the planetary system

History of Magic: none, thankfully, except get notes from Parvati who is indeed very best friend whom I love so dearly

Daily Quotas:

Sweets 16 (reasonable; had chocolate cake during lunch and had neither dinner last night nor breakfast), essays finished 0 (not so good), other homework finished 1 (Herbology; v. good), disturbing thoughts: many, many, many, and all involving different ways to kill fellow classmates and professors, clocks rearranged 1 (15 minutes, but must forget that have done this, because must make self think that is indeed 8:56 when is really 8:41 or something so will not constantly be late), lovely best-friend moments 1, evil thoughts concerning beastly classmates 1 (Pansy the Skinless, hee, hee, hee).

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