Sirius is back in Black.

Warded to MWPP

My dad's funeral is tomorrow. I plan on going.

Drunk. And in disguise.

I know purebloods love denial, but this is ridiculous.

Now that's just unfair. That marks the second big fight at or near Hogwarts this year. This academic year anyway, considering the last one was technically in 1978. To think I used to make fun of everyone in the year below me and that I thought I'd get to experience the world first. Now they're all battle veterans twice over, at least if they went to Hogsmeade. There was that one, and now this. Why now? My seventh year could have used a little more excitement.

I hear the Dark Lord himself made an appearance, even if he did go running once Dumbledore showed up. Typical.

Warded to James Potter

So tell me: is now a completely inopportune time to tell you about what I did this weekend? It's a good thing, I promise.

Wish I could add 'fought the Dark Lord' to the list, but that's what happens when I leave my journal at home. Moody might be onto something when he talks about constant vigilance. Things might have turned out differently.

It seems my dear former mother and I have had a bit of a miscommunication these past few days, and I thought perhaps it would be prudent for me to set the record straight, so to speak. I would like it on public record that I am not a werewolf. Never have been. Can't say I never will be, but it seems unlikely.

What I am, however, is a raging homosexual. Fruitier than a banana. Poufier than a puffskein. Queerer than the Quiberon Quafflepunchers. Surely some of you must have caught on after my recent foray into the theatre? I must have caught it when I was very young, as I remember I've always had a knack for accessorising and color-coordination. I think it must be because Uncle Alphard watched over me so often as a child.

So, Mother, you shouldn't have worried about what Remus wanted to do to me, but what I wanted to do to him. At the very least, now you won't have to worry about me passing down the family name to any blood traitor babies.

MWPP + Lily

If this doesn't get people to shut up about the werewolves, then I don't know what will.

Warded to Remus Lupin

You're not still hacked off at me about the mistletoe thing, are you?

If there are any purebloods out there getting attacked and sent to St Mungo's for thinking muggles are scum, then I would love to hear about them.

Warded to James, Remus, and Peter

What the bloody hell is my dad father doing on the journal? He never saw the need to stick his flipping nose in here before.

THAT WAS THE GREATEST BIRTHDAY EVER

All right now I'm going back to bed. Somebody make the sun go away.

Merlin's fucking beard, I'm tired of seeing journal post after journal post about 'proper' behavior. I think by this point, it should be blatantly obvious that the only people who make a fuss about things like 'propriety' are the ones who don't have anything better to do than sit around being smug and self-important.

Warded to the Order

Now, perhaps I'm only speaking for myself, but I do believe that being part of a vigilante organisation fighting the Death Eaters is a dreadfully serious business. That's all well and good, of course, but I hardly think we can form healthy bonds of trust with each other if all we ever do together is talk about this dreadfully serious business. If I'm to be trusting you lot with my life and vice-versa, I should think that I would like to like you first.

Which is why I am suggesting that we have a PARTY. That way, we can all get to know each other in a more relaxed setting, where the social lubricants will be flowing for those of us who are -- like Mssr Remus Lupin for example -- a bit uptight, and we can all let out the stress of being vigilant vigilantes. Perhaps codename ideas will come easier when we're all a bit tipsy?

Now, since I wouldn't bring up this wonderful idea and put the burden of planning on some other poor soul, I'm even willing to hose. I live out in Kent in the middle of a bloody field, so there's no worry about being seen together. Besides, I bought it from Muggles and signed the deed under a false name, so nobody even knows I live there besides my friends who have, well, been there. It's perfectly safe, and it's a smashing location for a good romp. Tried and true, believe me.

Now, if you'd like to discuss more serious matters, I could go through my family tree and pick out all the ones I think are Death Eaters. But first party.

Warded to Ted and Andromeda Tonks (warded to honk like an angry swan until read)

You two are awful parents. Dora's not nearly old enough for Auror training.

Warded to Remus Lupin

All right, well. I think I might have to cancel on St Mungo's anyway. It's not the reading that's the problem, I've learnt to read. I just don't want to be anywhere there's half a chance I might run into Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hullo hullo. I've a question of a deep and intellectual nature, namely one concerning Animagi. I only know one woman who is an Animagus, my dearest former Head of House Ms Minerva McGonagall, and as she is a busy lady (who has beautiful eyes behind those glasses, I might add), I considerately deigned to spare her the trouble of sending an owl and ask here instead.

We all know that a person's Patronus can change shape, so what about their Animagus form? Has it just not been documented because they're so rare?

That is all.

[Warded to James Potter]

I hate them. I hate how every conversation turns into yet another lecture about how I've failed the family. Narcissa doesn't even fucking know. She's a stupid bitch and I hate her.

We need to do something before I smash every fucking thing inside this house.

Blame it on the black star Blame it on the falling sky Blame it on the satellite that beams me home. ( Read more... )