Daphne Greengrass

I do so appreciate the concern that has come my way today, but I think I should assure you all that everything is back to normal between Millie and myself. What took place was a simple misunderstanding, and we've both apologised to one another and made up completely (and her face is as good as new, as I'm sure you all observed!). I've even decided to make it up to Millie by sending her robes to the head dressmaker at Gladrags, who has promised that she will have them expertly re-fitted by the time we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow.

Also, I would like to publicly thank Professors Lestrange and Sinistra for our meeting after supper; I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding, and for... doing such a poor job of rearranging your books, Professor Raz. I hope that if there's anything future you require from me, you won't hesitate to ask. Oh, and I promise I shant create such a disruption during dueling practise again, on my honour!



Well, with that said, let's return to more pressing subjects, I think!

I must say that there are many people who seem to have benefited from Draco Malfoy's list of individuals without dates for the Ball. Listening to talk around the castle, it now seems as if almost everyone has found someone or other to escort them. Well done, Draco! Just think, there may be future couples who will one day have you to thank for bringing them together.

Hogsmeade is sure to be a madhouse tomorrow, what with last-minute shopping for the Ball piled on top of Christmas shopping. Still, I'm thoroughly looking forward to it! Barney, do you mind if we meet in the common room instead of the Great Hall? I want to change my shoes before we walk to the village.

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!