There's a big group of anti-muggle born demonstrators on Diagon. About ten of them, holding up signposts. It's quite a sight. If I move my desk just a little to the right, I can watch what's happening out of my window. I don't know if I recognise any..

( Angie )


( Private )

( Lucius )

Crabbe, don't touch the books in my room. Seriously. Just don't.

Infact, don't go in to my room. There's an idea.

( Private )

( Lucius )

Angie? Are you busy tonight? I could use your help with something. I'll bring home some wine, if you'd like?

( Private )

( Angie )

Crabbe, get your arse off that couch. You’re helping me clean.


( Bellatrix )

( Private )

( Angie )

It's amazing how easily a scroll can get lost amid a pile of birth certificates.

Michael Crabbe. Have you by any chance seen those very important documents with the very important Ministry seal that I left on the kitchen counter so that I could pick them up this morning, along with a note that read ‘these are very important documents and if you touch them I am going to hurt you’ ?
Only, I seem to have misplaced them. And I sincerely doubt they grew legs and went for a walk.
And, well, they really are kind of important.

I’m not particularly in the homicidal mood right now so if you could help me find them I’d appreciate it very much.

( Private )

You know? Top of the Pops is the most evil thing in the world. It's a muggle show, and Gush downstairs keeps wailing along to the muggle music and I swear I'm going to go and throw her tv out the flipping window.

I cannot possibly work with 'The Hippy Hippy Shake' in my head. Even binwizards don't have to put up with this rubbish. Hah. Binwizards. Rubbish.

No?

I'm going mad. Someone get me out of here.

Michael Crabbe. Stop prodding the fishbowl. The fish will bite your fingers off, I swear. And then what’ll you do?

I need to head off to work soon. It’s getting really busy there. For the love of god, people, stop dying and being born, you inconsiderate gits. This is supposed to be my holiday. Some holiday. I’d better be getting some serious overtime for this.

I seem to have aquired myself a goldfish. He's my uncle's. I'm looking after it for a week while he's away on business. I'm actually rather offended at the fact that he actually wrote me a list on how to take care of a goldfish. Does he think I'm an idiot?

So it needs a new name. Because there's no way I'm calling it Englebert for the week. That's borderline cruelty to animals. Not as if it'll ever actually remember it's own name, they only have like two second memory spans, don't they? Well there's a name there then. I'll call it Michael.
Kidding.

Although, it kind of does suit the name Michael.

( Private. )

( Angie. )

( Crabbe. )

You know what I’ve noticed? We never get proper snow here. It only snows, what? like once or twice a year? And even then it lasts two days at the most. That’s a bit rubbish, isn’t it?

( Private )

( Dolohov. )


It’s pissing down with rain outside. I think I saw some lightening a bit ago. It’s funny to think I used to be scared of storms when I was a child. Now they’re oddly relaxing. I can hardly see out the window for the rain pelting against the glass. Not the weather to be going to work in anyway.
I’m going to stay in, I think. Lots to be getting on with and such. Doesn’t look like any of the owls I’ll need to send from the office will be getting very far in that weather anyway. Sorry, Aunt Camille. You won’t be hearing from me for a few days. Shame. How the very thought upsets me so.

Please, God. Let the lightening strike Madam Gush. Please.

( Private )


( Angie. )

Right. I’m back then.

..This place is really disturbingly empty.

However many days into the New Year and resolutions have gone arse up already.
Might be a personal record that I managed to hold out this long though.

I’m heading up to visit the family for a few days. His counts as a notice of temporary eviction for one Michael Crabbe who seems to have taken up residence on my couch. I’ll be back in a few days, assuming all goes well. Just have some stuff to take care of up there. This, of course, is assuming I get time off work which is looking increasingly doubtful with the file upon file that they’re shoving at us. I think the ink stains on my fingertips may have become permanent tattoos by now.


( Private. )


( Angie. )

Hm.
My flat is really, really…quiet now.
It’s odd getting up in the morning and then realising that I don’t feel like I’m running a hotel for the mentally absent anymore.

It’s almost too quiet.
Except that Crabbe is snoring on my couch. Which kind of ruins the illusion of peace.
I’ve drawn on his face though. And hung Christmas baubles from his ears so he looks very festive albeit slightly hungover.
…I really should wake him up at some point.

But aside from that, things are getting back to normal. Which is a bit rubbish. When’s the next school holiday, then?
And, Angie, apologies if one of your suitcases is a little bashed. Carrow dropped it on himself.

( Angie and Dolohov )

( Private )

Can I just ask?

Why is there a dog running around my living room?
Just wondering.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

( Angie. )

So. Angie, Amycus, Alecto and Crabbe. You guys still coming for Christmas?
Angie, If I can get Crabbe to stop trying to decorate my living room, I’m coming to meet you at the station so I could catch you other guys then, yeah? Whatever. Just come when you want.

Dolohov? Are you at home for Christmas? You can stay as well if you want. I meant to invite you earlier seeing as I have like…half of Slytherin here but I forgot. Sorry.

And so here I was going to welcome you all over here with mulled wine, but you’re so dreadfully underage that I can’t. So more for me. And Crabbe. But he doesn’t count.
Welcome to Chateau D’Avery. Some house rules before we start.
1) Amycus Carrow will remain sober at all times during the course of his stay. This rule must on no account be broken. Ever. On pain of death or grevious bodily harm.
2) On second thoughts. The same goes for Crabbe.
3) And ten points to whoever can annoy the ugly old bat downstairs the most.

Also, watch out for the bathroom corridor, and the kitchen doorway. Crabbe stuck mistletoe there and it won't come down.


( Private. )

( Private )

( Angie. )

Well, this is going to be a long day. Think I’m locking up at work tonight so I‘ll be here late. Oh well, need to check some things out in the office anyway. And I've still got lots of post to answer, dammit.

Ugh I'm ill.
Not going to work today.
Not moving today at all, if I can help it.

s'posed to be going up to visit the family for Marie's birthday.
How convenient.

Although, Marie's that bloody sadistic she'd love to see me in pain and miserable.

You know, Bella, you two would have a lot in common. It's like a match made in heaven. Or hell, as the case would have it. You should get together something. It'd be fun, I swear. Take her off my hands, please. I can't stand her. I'm begging you. I'll do anything.

...what sad git has their Christmas lights up already? It isn't even December yet.
Gah, they're bright.

Name 5 simple pleasures that you like most, then pick 5 people to do the same.

1. Hogsmeade on a Saturday.

2. Waking up on Saturday morning then realising you don’t have to go to work and then being able to crawl back into bed and sleep the morning away.

3. The smell of coffee when you walk by that muggle coffee shop in the mornings.

4. Being the first to walk over frosted grass so that it crunches underfoot.

5. Not being in school. Enough said. You lot are all fucking mad.

There we go, happy? I know, I’m so terrifically exciting.

I’m going to need to go Christmas shopping soon.

( Amycus, Angie and Alecto. The A Team. Haha. )

Thanks, Bella. You go in for a visit and you don't even invite me along?
Fine, that's us finished. Finito. No more. Nada.
That could have brightened up my day and amused me ever so slightly but noooooo. You left me woooooorking. Selfish bint. See this? this is my pissed face. Oh yes, be afraid.

Sorry. I'm bored. And tired.

Doesn't matter any more though. Hogsmeade weekend. Thank god. I'll be looking forward to that.

And, Crabbe? That was salad cream in my fridge, mate. Not face cream. You're welcome to help yourself to the stuff in my fridge, you know, but I kind of needed that for my sandwiches.
You scare me sometimes, you know that, right?