I never truly liked her anyway, she merely proved to be an available shag.
Oh fuck, I did not need to spill that ink all over the parchment.
Right. The matter must be closed for good. I will not unnecessarily brood over it when I know I am capable of avoiding it. So. Assigning some detentions would probably keep my mind off things—I am sure Longbottom would be delighted at ripping out the nails from all those fingers I have lying scattered around the place, I will be needing them for my experiments rather soon.
Moving on to other happy thoughts, Dumbledore’s presence is more than ever acquired. That Patil girl in Ravenclaw is still gone, the coffee in this place is not as strong as it used to and Flitwick wants me to cut my hair. All very valid reasons, I perfectly know it, but all the same.
My nose is however back to normal. What I consider normal, that is. I am sure Fletcher would have loved to see the pitiable result he got with his hook—not very accomplished at anything, that man. He probably cannot even find the way to her bed without clearly labelled signs saying ‘Embarrassment, this way’.