Jun. 1st, 1997

purebloodpride: (Default)
At six, I woke up after a delightfully restful night of sleep.
At ten past six, I had one of my twice daily showers. Sadly, the Prefect Bathroom was occupied and I had to lower myself enough to use the communal one in Slytherin.
At seven, I was back in the common room revising my notes for Arithmancy and Potions. Not that I need to, mind you, but exams are coming up and of course I'm going to get the highest marks in our year.
At eight, the rest of the dorm was awake and done with what ever they thought fit to do in the mornings. Really, sleeping appallingly late and personal hygiene should take more than ten minutes.
At fifteen past, breakfast. Why anyone would want to stuff their mouths with something as revolting as smoked, warm fish in the morning, is beyond me.
Nine, and the first lesson of the day rolls by. Nothing remotely interesting happened.
At eleven, more classes and more time for me to get bored in. I cleared out in the content of my pockets (three galleons, twenty-one sickles, a knut, some string, a melted chocolate-frog, half a cauldron cake, a few folded up pieces of parchment (I really should read what they say one of these days) and lint.)
Lunch. Nothing special. Made sure to insult Weasel’s cheap and tawdry attire, his girlfriend's bloodline and Potter's hideous, disfiguring scar.
Afternoon classes at one thirty, I do enjoy Gryffindor-free classes.

August 2010

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