Nothing very interesting happened today, as per usual. Classes went by smoothly and as normally as it should have went; some git in Charms backfired on his spell; someone spilled the contents of their cauldron onto the floor, resulting in a mass growth of petunias; a Huffie in Trans turned her lump of coal into a fox with a banana for a tail (and our assignment was to turn it into a tree, by the by); and in Creatures a chit in Slythie almost got eaten alive.

Big whoop.

The most eventful thing that happened was perhaps after classes, when I was coming back from the meadow towards the castle with a girl in my year, talking about the idiot in Creatures when we passed by Ivan. It wasn't a first impulse to stop, but the boy looked like... what's the word I'm looking for... a loser. A dirty one, at that, sitting by himself in the corner like that, so I decided to see what was up with the kid and said goodbye to my friend.

Whatever, it wasn't the most interesting talk we've had, but it was probably the most... pleasant, one we've had in a while. He accused me to being a Defender of the Firsties (which, I'll admit, I am, but hell will freeze over before I admit anything to that boy) and somehow it lead to my secret wish for a spandex suit and matching cape, and then I somehow managed to implicate a wishlist for next Christmas that he will have to follow.

I am most certainly good.

We had a laugh together after Ivan tried to re-create some sophisticated look (which made him look more like a constipated Dementor on floo powder), which we hadn't had for ages merely because it's usually just one of us laughing at the other's expense. And it happens pretty frequently. Then we had a debate because I took something Ivan said as rub-off (Oi, ANYTHING he says can happen to be a rub-off in my proximity! It's a reflex dammit!), and apparently, it wasn't, and he thought I went bonkers or something, which slightly ruined the 'pleasantness' of the conversation and the ball it was rolling on.

Yeah, as I said, I'm that good *insert sarcasm here*.

As weird as it was, the conversation was slightly reminiscent of the days when we were just wee lil' babes. We happened to get along famously with one another, but all of a sudden all that chumminess went down the drain. Well, it got filtered, anyhow. I don't know what really happened, maybe puberty just hit us too hard, or because back then Ivan was a cute kid (read: slave) back then, and now he's... he's... Well he's not so cute anymore. More like an annoying git I'd like to pound over the head with a mallet at times. At times. (Oi, put the phone down. I can see you calling Child Services.)

I don't know. I'm positive a lot of it has got to do with me, and sometimes, when I'm already feeling dirtier than mud, I'm convinced it's because I failed as an older sister. Because that's what I'm supposed to be. You know, caring and looking after my younger siblings, because God Help Me, as much as I love my mother, my brothers and sister can not be raised fully by that woman, lest they become flaunting Children of Sexuality. Yes, my mother's open like that. It was interesting, learning about 'the birds and the bees' was...

Oh dear Merlin. The euphemisms.

...Anywho. Sometimes I feel like I've let my brother down, or that I just wasn't fun enough to hang around so that he had to get away from me. Then I feel guilty, rotten, stupid...

But then I remember all the times he's pulled my hair, stolen my birthday cookies, blamed me for breaking mother's guest dinner plates, blamed me for losing library books, intercepted my owls, read in my diary, taken my homework to pass of as his....

...And then I feel like wanting to pound his head over and over again with an even bigger mallet.

(Seriously. Put. That. Down.)

I must have some very unique connection with these journals of mine because they always seem to go missing. And no, it's not my fault; the last time this happened bloody Bronst had it with him (to his credit, he said he had "found" it) and because of my stupid, stupid tactic of trying to find it with bribery prior to his discovery, he said he'd only give it back after I had done something for him, or until he opened it. Needless to say, I got it back (he sent it as a Christmas present, the git), only to find that I had already used up all the pages inside.

This one, however, has quite the interesting story. Indeed. Quite.

It was during the holidays, and we were just about ready to leave home for Hogwarts when I found my journal missing. The morning I was supposed to be catching the express train. Which was due to leave in two and a half hours. (For all the great thinkers out there: yes, I was angry. I think I gave Trey quite a fright too; poor boy.) After a frantic search and basically turning the house upside down, I still had yet to find the blasted diary. However, it was already too late and dad called on us to leave the house.

And what do you know plopped down smack right in the middle of my breakfast by an owl this morning? No, not droppings, but my diary. And a note from mum saying she had found it with Helan, and that my dear little sister had been using it, all this time, as a coloring book.

A. Bloody. Coloring book.

I had to remind myself countless times that this was my little sister, and that I could not and would not get enraged beyond belief. I did, however, quell my frustration by snapping at a few firsties that had the unfortunate fate of crossing my path just as I was leaving to clean the journal up.

(Alright, I give; they /are/ fun to roar at, but that doesn't mean the rest of us seniors must abuse that priviliege!

...Much.)

Anyway, I have Potions next and I mustn't tardy with writing the rest of this entry. I'm glad I have this back though; finally, I've something to ramble to without complaint. My dormmates have been getting frustrated enough, I've gathered.

Hm... Maybe I shouldn't tell them I've found my journal /just/ yet.

Toodles.

And here debuts yet another diary to bring into my collection; this particular one surprisingly bought by Ivan as a Christmas present.(You're quite funny, by the way, dear brother, in your gift choice. Positively hi-larious.)And as such, to ensure little scoundrels like the one I was born with can't go peeping through my entries, I've appointed a number of jinxes to its lock. So, brat, if you find yourself reading this, prepare your funeral in due time.

Anyway, Christmas at home was enjoyable enough. Helan was the adorable little Christmas elf and helped mum around the house with decorations. By the time we got home from school for winter vacation, the house was a plethora of tinsel and other eye-obscurring holiday-trinkets. Despite the fact that I hadn't regained proper sight for quite some time, everything went on well enough, and mum was particularly pleased since dad took another week off from work at the Ministry. He said his department had been working to the ground and that they needed a well-deserved break. It makes me wonder when the Ministry's ever going to take a look-see at school, with all the strange things that had happened recently. Particularly some accidents that I'd preffer not to divulge back into.

I got some great presents from the fam. Excluding the diary, mum had gotten me more clothes, dad had gotten me jewelry, Trey bought me new books to read and Helan gave me this crystalized snowflake (it melted within two hours; I told her it's still hanging from my ceiling beautifully). I'm not quite ready yet to get back to Hogwarts, thing at home have been relaxing and-

OH bloody hell, I've forgotten the essay assigned by Professor Sprout. Dear Merlin, I heartily doubt that I'll enter a field in the future that would require skills in gathering pods from gnarled Snargaluff stumps. Terrible, terrible little plant-like... creatures, they were. Herbology's slightly boring in my opinion, but I can't do much about it since it's required, can I? All I can hope is to achieve good enough marks to have my proverbial doors kept opened at all times.

Well then, I suppose I'd better get working on it. Wonder maybe if Trey might be in the mood to lend a hand...