(no subject)

[thornyrose42]

First and most importantly of all, look at Mini!Bella and Dromy, aren’t they amazing. The drawing is the sole property of Makani (which is why it is so fantastic) and I coloured it in myself (which is why the colouring is a bit dodgy) But that aside aren’t they just perfect, seriously this is the closest I've got to my mental picture of these two and that is just something that my Bella would do.

Anyway, exams are OVER!!! (Actually they've been over for a week but it has taken me this long to get out of the "I Can't Write I Have Things To Do" mode) They all went fairly well, so fingers crossed and all. I don't want to say anything else for fear of jinxing my marks or something. Knock on wood and all that.

Talking of writing, the amount of things I feel I have to do at the moment is quite scary really. The next chapter of GUB is in the pipeline, I can promise more of the Gang, Fun and Games at the Rosier Grandparents house and Magic! Then there is the one shot that is begging to be written, damn plot bunnies that won't give up and all that (by the way this one is your fault Chilla). And I need to get caught up on the drabble prompts. 

Thank goodness that summer is nearly here (not that you can tell from the weather, which is disgusting damn you British summer.

But my summer is pretty hectic as well. I've got two drama courses down in London which take up most of August, then there's relatives to be visited and at some point I want to start my driving lessons, oh, there was something else as well wasn't there...

Now I remember THE SEVENTH AND LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK IS COMING OUT!!!!!! SQUEE, GASP, FAINT ETC

I really do have mixed feelings about this, on one hand we get to know how it ends and on the other hand...we get to know how it ends. We will probably see Andromeda (yey!), we will probably see Andromeda (argh). I mean after this... all our wriggle room disappears. We will know the mysteries of Snape, who lives, who dies, which ships sink and which go sailing off into the sunset. And, well I like not knowing the be all and end all. (Though I suppose since I mainly write pre-canon I won't be as effected as some) Oh but I really need to get that one shot done! Argh! That'll sink with DH, pretty sure of that.

I'm going to the midnight party in Waterstones though. Something which I've never done before, and I'm dressing up, as Luna with proper radish earrings and a cork necklace. My sister will probably be going as Ginny. She isn't much of a fan, in fact she isn't really a fan at all, but she wants to go as "The Biggest Harry Potter Freak Ever" and asked me for tips, I told her to get stuffed and just to go as a really good Ginny. A friend of ours is also coming, curly brown hair, therefore Hermione. It is going to be so much fun.

I'm also going to take ear plugs in case we get people driving past shouting spoilers like last time.

Oh and bit of fic:

  

Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby really didn’t deserve what was about to happen to her. She was, in general, a good person. She gave to charity, was kind to cats and always paid her share of expenses when she went out with friends. She was a good teacher as well.

 

The children she taught tended to leave her class with more knowledge then they had had to begin with, including an understanding that hamsters don’t, in general, survive being flushed down the loo. And that is the whole point of Year Three after all. However, she did have a few faults. One was a louder voice than she thought she had, and another was a tendency to believe what parents told her about their children despite evidence to the contrary.

 

These failings led to the reason why, shortly after this story begins, Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby locked herself in the staff bathroom and refused to emerge until someone found her a new wig.

  

Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby always enjoyed it when, about twenty minutes into the first lesson every Friday, Mr. David (Dave) Middleton would come into her class to borrow the tape-recorder for Year Four’s music lesson. She always made sure to have Year Three settled down for Silent Reading by twenty past nine. Then she and Dave would have a nice little chat for five minutes or so while she reminded him how to work the Infernal Contraption.

 

Today the topic of conversation was Mr. (Dave) Middleton’s future class, namely her Year Three, soon to be his Year Four.

 

“I hope your class remembers how to work this Infernal Contraption when they come up next year, Patty,” said Mr. David (Dave) Middleton with a crooked smile at his fellow teacher.

 

“Oh, I don’t tend to let them fiddle around with it, Dave,” Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby replied quickly, “I’m afraid you’ll just have to try and remember how to work it yourself.”

 

“But you will remind me once in a while, won’t you?”

 

“Of course.” They smiled at each other across the Infernal Contraption until she dropped her gaze back down on the problem at hand, a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. “This one is the play button,” she added swiftly, placing a finger on the switch.

 

“Right, play button, first on the left, got it.” He nodded to himself, and then returned to the topic of Year Three. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to leave next year's Year Fours alone occasionally; they all seem like perfect angels now, or is that just your expertise?”

 

Year Three - who hadn’t realised that being able to fake an interest in "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" qualified them for the heavenly chorus - sharpened their ears slightly.

 

“Oh, well, I…I do my best,” Miss. Patricia (Patty) Inglesby stuttered, evidently flustered by the compliment. “Most of them are little gems. Autumn Leaves (yes, I know, awful name, isn’t it) always stays behind to help tidy up…."

 

There was a simultaneous flicker of eyes within Year Three, and poor Autumn (who was not the sort of girl who could carry off a name like that) sank down a bit further in her chair. It had, of course, never occurred to Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby to wonder why the girl was so desperate to put off going home. She had never stopped to think that perhaps tidying up spilt glue and stacking paper was a good excuse for spending as little time as possible curled up in bed listening to the shouting downstairs. And having to endure a week of teasing from Dudley’s gang was a bit much on top of everything else.  

 

“Oh, and Matty Brown is such a little gentleman. Always opening doors and so eager to please.”

 

Another flicker. But Matty was a pragmatic boy who had less faith in Dudley’s memory than Autumn. He was one of those rare boys that enjoy being helpful. In any other class this would have made him the principal victim for the class bully, but Dudley already had a personal vendetta against his cousin and there wasn’t enough space in his brain for another.

 

“Of course there are a couple of boisterous ones, but I’m sure they’ll settle down; they just don’t know their own strength.”

 

Year Three kept their eyes fixed on the pages in front of them and inwardly wondered why Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby’s nose hadn’t grown a foot. Well, most of them did. Dudley’s gang, who ruled the back row of desks, made Ha! We’ve got her fooled! faces at each other, and Dudley stopped hacking at the desk with his pen long enough to yank Clarissa Atkins’s ponytail in celebration.

 

“You should watch out for Harry Potter, though,” Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby continued, oblivious to the class's behaviour. “He’s just a bit…weird. Mooches around on his own the whole time, never speaks up in class, goes and does goodness-knows-what on his breaks, and I swear he did something to the hamster.”

 

She paused, and then lowered her voice in a way that only made it seem louder in the quiet classroom.

 

“And you do hear rumours. Apparently his parents were a Very Bad Lot, unemployed the both of them, and goodness knows what sort of things they got up to. I was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley at the last parents' meeting and they said that his parents died in a car crash...well, it doesn’t take a genius to work out what they’d been up to before that...."

 

Actually, on second thought, Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby did deserve what she got. After all, in some places there is a law against being Bloody Stupid. And gossiping, while a fine tradition in staffrooms across the country, should happen when the pupil in question isn’t sitting three desks away from where you’re standing.

 

Yes, I think that like Aunt Marge in later years, Miss Patricia (Patty) Inglesby got exactly what was coming to her.