Mother,

I've had an owl from Queenie this morning. She was terribly distressed. She said that you and Father had a row last night that woke her up from sleep. You and Father never row; she had no idea what to think and is worried that it means she's done something to cause it.

I can only presume that your argument was about this week's Dish! Really, Mother, Father may not follow that kind of press, but you had to know that it would get back to him, one way or another. I can't imagine that any man would enjoy seeing his wife discuss her past love life in a magazine, but you know how private Father is. It's just as Grandmother always said: "he shies away from the limelight so that it will better reach the rest of us."

Now, Mother, prepare yourself for hard words: it really doesn't do to entertain a fantasy based on the mere possibility of something.

And it isn't fair to me, or to Father. Or to HIM, for that matter. You have to tell him that the possibility exists, and then the matter can be solved in short order, I'm sure. And I really need to kn

If you won't say something to him, I suppose it will be up to me.

Love,
Daphne

Did anyone else see Mrs Lestrange arrive at supper? She's so impressively tall, isn't she? I love her style of robes, too. I wonder who designs them? They're very crisp and severe, but nonetheless eye-catching. I think I would like to try a look like that in a few years. I imagine she was here to look into the attack on Professor Carrow, since it looked as if she was heading straight in the direction of the hospital wing. I've heard people saying that a few of the older students might have been behind the attack, but it's hard to imagine that someone as important as Mrs Lestrange would be brought in if it were just students. At any rate I am relieved that the incident seemed to happen far away from the castle, on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. I always knew that there had to be a good reason that the Forest was Forbidden.

Mother wrote to both me and Astoria and says she has some tremendous news to pass along once we've come home. I'm quite literally on the edge of my seat (really! Come see me if you don't believe...) wondering what it would be. But then that might be because I'm simply excited to return to Belgravia for the holidays. Mother has all sorts of New London excitements lined up for us girls, including a trip to the new beauty salon in Mayfair. My hair's in sore need of some pruning, so I particularly can't wait for that. Millie, Mother said you could come along, if your parents will allow it! I know you don't believe me, but I still think you would look especially nice with a bit of a fringe.

Who all is attending the Malfoy Christmas party? I know that Draco had planned on inviting everyone in our year last time, but from what I heard that doesn't seem to be the case this year. Blaise, I know you're going... who else? Astoria's thrilled because she'll finally be allowed to attend this year (as Mother and Father's guest, of course, since she doesn't really know Draco), and she's already pestering me about what robes to choose and what all. Queenie's probably beside herself because she'll have to stay home alone with Miss Jessup while we're all out celebrating. I can't say I envy her that. Miss Jessup is a nice woman, but she has a Christmas fixation on gingerbread people (not houses, just people!) that's downright unhealthy. I remember one Christmas, many years ago, Mother and Father were out at an event and Miss Jessup had us decorating gingerbread people until nearly sun-up, and she was weeping into the lace sleeve of her robe because her gingerbread replication of the Lord Protector wasn't quite as symmetrical as it ought to have been. I never told her that Father ate her lopsided Gingerbread Lord at breakfast the next morning. Dunked it into his tea, no less! Poor, dear Miss Jessup.

I love times like this in the common room, when we're all meant to be revising but are really just listening to music and chattering about instead. I think I'll make some tea and get comfortable. My eyes are too bleary to read anymore!

MONDAY
9:00 - 11:00 -- Defense Against The Dark Arts w/Ravenclaw
11:00 - 12:00 -- Transfiguration
12:00 - 13:00 -- Lunch
13:00 - 14:00 -- Study Hall
14:00 - 15:00 -- Astronomy (lecture)
15:00 - 16:00 -- Study Hall
Night -- Astronomy (practical)

TUESDAY
9:00 - 11:00 -- Study Hall
11:00 - 12:00 -- Charms
12:00 - 13:00 -- Lunch
13:00 - 14:00 -- History of Magic
14:00 - 16:00 -- Study Hall

WEDNESDAY
9:00 - 11:00 -- Potions w/Hufflepuff
11:00 - 12:00 -- Study Hall
12:00 - 13:00 -- Lunch
13:00 - 15:00 -- Herbology w/Hufflepuff
15:00 - 16:00 -- Study Hall

THURSDAY
9:00 - 10:00 -- Transfiguration
10:00 - 12:00 -- Study Hall
12:00 - 13:00 -- Lunch
13:00 - 16:00 -- Study Hall

FRIDAY
9:00 - 10:00 -- Charms
10:00 - 11:00 -- Muggle Studies
11:00 - 12:00 -- Study Hall
12:00 - 13:00 -- Lunch
13:00 - 15:00 -- Study Hall

Other: flying II, music lessons, dance lessons, dueling primer (try to find someone in dueling club already?)

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It’s good to be back at Hogwarts.

Padma’s right, Diagon Alley is wiz-nift! Mother took me to Malkin’s since I’ve grown, and to get a new satchel. We stopped in at Ollivander’s to show off my wand, and he said he liked it very much. No new cauldron, though, so I’ll have to make do with this.

Papa also sent me off with sweets. If anyone would like some, I left a bowl in the common room. You’re welcome!

I made sure to tell Malfoy and Marvolo they could have some if they wanted any, after the wonky night they had. Malfoy almost went spare when he found out Marvolo wasn’t on the train. There was a problem getting past the platform, and Weasley said he thought it was hexed. So Weasley nicked his father’s charmed car and flew it to Hogwarts. They crashed into the Whomping Willow, missing sorting and everything. (Congratulations again to Hydra!) I’m not sure they even had supper.

I’m just glad everyone’s all right. Weasley’s helping take care of the poor willow.

Schedules are out, and Slytherin is nearly done with its Loyalty Oaths. Marvolo and I were talking about it when he signed. It must be queer to sign something swearing to your father, but he is the Lord Protector. He was kind of shirty with me, but I might be too after the day he had. It's already forgiven.

Now, it's time to feed Omen. She looks hungry . . .