Haggis from Algernon by vea
Co-written with the terrific ghostofbambi.
Monday 3rd February
Fell asleep in History of Magic. Again. Not really noteworthy except apparently I missed Padfoot Levitate some kippers from breakfast to float over Binns’ head. Wormtail jerked awake from a nightmare (or so he claims), and as he was sitting next to Sirius, Padfoot was startled. Binns was unhappy, to say the least, when the kippers fell right through him. It was dead funny, I expect. I only woke up when Padfoot prodded me in the side because Binns was floating around looking for the culprit. It’s what mates are for, I suppose.
I lost my favorite quill. For some reason I think Helena Hodge has stolen it. This may have to do with the supposed lovestruck looks she was shooting me during Astronomy. Wormtail swears she was using her telescope to check out my arse. He kept on about it loudly in the common room until I threatened to send Algernon after him the next time he transforms.
I lost concentration in History of Magic again. Professor Binns was covering the Great Dragon Incident of 1811 but I was too busy trying to prevent Black from dropping kippers on Tilden Toots’ head to listen to him. Binns gave us an essay to write on the subject titled ‘Discuss the events preceding and following the GDI of 1811 and how they contributed to the unfortunate murder of Ross McFusty.’ so I’ll have to go to the library tomorrow. I don’t even know what species of dragon was involved, and I’ve lost Fantastic Beasts, so I should get that book too. We’re supposed to carry Fantastic Beasts around with us at all times, according to Madame Pince. Just in case somebody picks up a cloak and it turns out to be a Lethifold, or something.
Potter looks nice today.
Helena Hodge keeps throwing sweet wrappers and quill ends at me in the corridors, I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done to irritate her. I might talk to her about it tomorrow morning during Herbology, she sits behind me and I really don’t want to get Spitting Chrysanthemum juice in my hair again. I can’t think of what I could have done.
I’m going to get started on my Transfig homework now. Bloody frogs.
Tuesday 4th February
Evans is brilliant, and I mean that in more than one way. One of the Spitting Chrysanthemums managed to get some of its saliva on her finger. According to Oswald Fitz, it hadn’t been properly subdued or something. Evans’ nail started dissolving on the spot. It smelled something awful. She grabbed her wand and fixed it. Later her partner Wendy cracked a nail on the table and wouldn’t stop moaning about it for the rest of the class, the tosspot. Evans barely cried out when her nail disappeared, and Wendy wouldn’t shut it about a bloody chip. Sirius and I were so annoyed that we sent a Tripping Jinx her way on our way out the door. It would’ve hit, too, if Evans hadn’t made her turn around by calling her name. We would’ve stayed and tried again, but it would’ve been suspicious. Missed opportunity.
Algernon sicked up under my bed. Moony and I discussed what we could do with it during breakfast, but by the time I’d run up to preserve it after lunch, the house-elves had already got to it. Another wasted opportunity.
On the plus side, I trounced the rest of the class during Transfiguration today. I am amazing.
So I asked Helena Hodge what her problem was in Herbology today and she wouldn’t tell me, but I suspect that Potter and Black might have told her lies about me or something, because she went really red and stared over in their direction. Then if that wasn’t enough, she purposely knocked into me during class and spilled Chrysanthemum saliva on my finger. It burned my nail right off. Stupid cow. I don’t know what Potter and Black are doing, but I will get to the bottom of it. Re-growing nails is not exactly fun. I got a bit annoyed with Wendy, though, because she broke her nail a little later and she wouldn’t stop moaning about it.
Robert Caulfield kept tripping over on the way to lunch today, it was weird. And I got an O on my Transfiguration essay! Huzzah! It was a double victory for me because Potter forgot to hand in his homework and McGonagall gave him a detention, but he acted as though this made him a bloody hero or something. He thinks that he’s great because he’s the only one in our class who can turn his sparrow into a birdhouse.
Speaking of Potter, he just walked past me, smelling of cat sick….
I don’t even want to know.
Wednesday 5th February
I woke up to the scent of cat vomit again. This time I wasted no time in spelling it into a container. Perfect timing, too, as we had Potions today with the Slytherins. It took some practice before class, and several near-misses, but we used a Switching Spell to get the cat sick in Snivellus’s cauldron right after he finished his Mumbling Mixture. Wormtail was on distraction duty with Sluggy. He did poorly enough on his last essay where Slughorn didn’t find it all unusual for Peter to give him a box of crystallized pineapple. Snape was dead furious when he turned back from consulting with Evans. (She’s twice as good as Potions as he’ll ever be.) I expect his cauldron will reek until at least the end of the month – we spelled the vomit with a Stench Enhancer.
In addition to the vomiting, Algernon has been lazing about more than usual. I should talk to professor Kettleburn tomorrow.
Full moon tomorrow, as well. I hope we can find that grove again so we can investigate the hole in that oak tree. Might be a good hiding place.
My shoes have gone missing! Seriously, I left them by the fire just a minute ago when I ran upstairs to get this diary, and now they’re gone, so much for honor among housemates. I would get up and look for them, but I will not give the thief the satisfaction of knowing that I’m bothered. It’s not like somebody mistakenly picked them up either, who else has shoes with bright color-changing stars charmed on the side of them? No, no, no, they were stolen.
Potter and his cronies put cat vomit into Severus Snape’s cauldron today. I was somewhat glad, because he’d tapped me on the shoulder to ask me a question about antidotes and although I’ll help him if he needs it, I want to avoid talking to him if I can. Still, that was really mean of Potter, and I’m the one who’s going to suffer, I sit in front of Sev and his cauldron reeks something awful. I kind of wish I still had the heart to report Potter and Black for their lawless ways, but I feel like it would be somewhat hypocritical of me since I now spend half of my time defending Potter around my friends. He looked very nice today, Potter did. His hair was especially chaotic and he was looking all pleased with himself, like he always does when he’s up to something. I wish it wasn’t so appealing. He’s such an unlikable arse.
Helena Hodge will not leave me alone. She has started muttering and glaring whenever she walks by me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I will have to confront her properly this time.
It’s almost patrol time and my shoes have not reappeared. I’ll have to go in my socks, it’s not like Remus will care. Maybe he might have seen something, he’s been sitting over in the corner with Potter and the other two all evening.
Friday 7th February
Remus needs to realize we don’t care he’s a werewolf. Oh, he pretends, but if he really understood he wouldn’t remind us every full moon that we don’t have to go along, and that it’s dangerous. It’s bollocks anyway because he always says it like he means it, but his face says it’s only perfunctory. He wants us to go with. Ever since we started tagging along he spends half as much time under Madam Pomfrey’s care. I wonder if I would’ve tried to become an Animagus even if he weren’t a werewolf. It’s dead fun running around the Forest. I expect I’ve seen loads more of the creatures in Fantastic Beasts than the rest of the class combined, save my mates. No wonder I got an O on my Care of Magical Creatures OWL – I’m dead experienced at identifying creatures. Kettleburn’s taken a shine to me ever since the OWL. I think before he thought I didn’t care. I don’t, but at least he’s under the impression that I do.
Speaking of, I dropped by his office with Algernon before Quidditch practice. He prodded at him for a bit with his wand, checked inside his mouth and the like. Probably did more, but I got distracted by the poster Bitten? How to Identify in Three Easy Steps! and missed some of what he did. Kettleburn said Algernon looked to have eaten a potion, but he added he’s pants at Potions and would need to ask Slughorn to identify it. He spelled out a sample from Algernon’s stomach to give to old Sluggy. Algernon’s a brilliant cat, but I was half-tempted to tell Kettleburn to forget it so Slughorn wouldn’t have another excuse to talk to me. He’s always trying to get me to go to his stupid Slug Club meetings, but he won’t let Sirius in, ever since Padfoot Jinxed his fez to bite his head, and there’s no way I’d go without Sirius. Not that I particularly want to go, anyway. The only reason I’d go is because Evans does.
First Apparition lessons tomorrow. I’ll be surprised if I don’t manage it on the first try.
No luck in finding that oak tree. I think we went too far east, but Wormtail swore he remembered where it was. I think we all learned a lesson about not following his sense of direction, and about poking about with unidentified plants. Sirius will have that rash for a while, I think, especially since he refuses to see Madam Pomfrey about it.
Saturday 8th February
Several things have happened/are happening today and over the past few days.
1) Sirius Black can’t sit down for five minutes without jumping out of his seat, rubbing his backside and exclaiming, “Owww, my arse!”
2) I got a ransom note for my shoes. It reads: If you ever want to see your shoes alive again, you’ll meet my demands. There is no signature and there are no demands, either, so I don’t know how I am supposed to reply to this person. I think it might be Terry Heaney from third year; he’s always stopping girls in the common room and asking what size their feet are.
3) Helena Hodge threw spaghetti at me during lunch yesterday! I kid you not. It landed all over me and ruined my robes and hair. It took me an hour to wash it out. So I finally cornered her near Filch’s office today (she was holding Algernon, Potter’s mad cat, I’m not really sure why) and threatened to give her a detention unless she let me know what was up. She told me, rather haughtily, I may add, to ask Potter and then she stormed off towards her common room. Now that I have seen her with his cat, I am sure that they are in cahoots together. I am sorely tempted to go over and ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but he’s being an idiot with Black. They seem to be sword fighting with thin air. Sometimes I don’t know why I am so drawn to Potter.
4) Beatrice told me that Emily told her that Matilda Bones told her that Bernard Chitock wants me to accompany him to Slughorn’s Valentine’s party next weekend. I may agree to it if Bernard asks me himself, but I’m not partaking in any of this ‘communicating through our friends’ nonsense. Of course, I had to tell Beatrice and Emily to tell Matilda to tell Bernard this, so I suppose I did anyway. Gah.
5) Apparition lessons are far harder than I expected, although I think that I’ll be able to manage next lesson, if I try hard enough. I’ll do some more reading on the theory tonight. I was quite pleased to see that Potter didn’t manage to do anything other than trip over his own two feet and break his glasses. It serves him right for being gorgeous.
6) I have far too much homework to do, and no shoes to wear. Going outside for Herbology is proving a nightmare, especially since it rained yesterday.
Algernon has gone missing. What if he’s dead? I checked under my bed, and he wasn’t there. I hope he hasn’t crawled under some third-year’s bed and died. If anywhere, I’d want him to die under my bed. He’s spent so much time there lately and all. It would be rude to die elsewhere, I think. I checked the Map earlier, but he wasn’t in any of his usual haunts. Remus has promised to help me pore over the Map after dinner.
Kettleburn says Slughorn has said he’ll have time to look at Algernon’s sample later tonight, but that’s all but useless if Algernon is dead.
Apparition is stupid.
Wormtail’s been fidgety lately. More than normal, I mean. And he keeps retying his shoes. I asked him if he had a rock in his shoe, but he squeaked and mumbled something about how he thought he might have a rash, too. I suspect he was lying, but Remus gave me one of those looks that told me to shut up. He’s usually pretty good with knowing when I should shut it, so I listened. I’m chuffed that I thought to listen to him for once because for the past half hour Peter’s been starting conversations with me that he backs out of as soon as he can. I believe he wants to tell me something. I must be getting older, as I feel infinitely patient today. Old people act like they have all the time in the world.
I keep telling Sirius to get over himself and go ask Pomfrey for some salve or something, but he’s a stubborn git. Then again, if our positions were reversed, I doubt I’d go to her, either. Life’s funny like that.
Sunday 9th February
I broke a silence of weeks today and talked to Potter. I asked him, very nicely, why Helena Hodge is harassing me, and explained that she had informed me of his part in this. He shrugged and protested his innocence, but I told him of how I saw her with his cat, so I had him cornered, dear diary. Before he could respond, we were interrupted by Bernard Chitock who asked me to Slughorn’s party, right there in front of Potter. I told him that I’d think about it, as I was shamefully hoping that Potter would jump in and get all territorial like he would have in the past, but no luck there. He just stood with his mouth open, like a bespectacled fish with nice hair.
I think that Potter may have stolen my shoes, so I took his Invisibility Cloak out of his dorm. Ha. Ha ha ha.
Today was awful. First off, Evans has agreed to go to one of Slughorn’s parties with Bernard the Berk Chitock. Honestly, if his ears were any bigger, he could play Quidditch without a broom. I was going to try to curse him with spots, but to make matters worse, my Invisibility Cloak’s gone missing! Apparently I should talk to Helena about this, as Evans told me she has my cat. She also accused me of something or another, but, as usual, her accusations are misplaced. I may also have been distracted a bit because she wasn’t wearing any robes, and her nipples were poking through her shirt. Can you blame a bloke? She’s dead pretty, Evans.
After, Sirius and I used the Map and were shocked to see Algernon’s dot practically on top of Helena’s. I thought perhaps she’d drugged him, as he’s never been content to sit in anyone’s arms, let alone a creepy Hufflepuff’s. Last time I tried to have him sit in my lap, I had to spend an hour repairing my trousers. On our way to steal Algernon back, though, Kettleburn stopped me and Padfoot in the corridor. Slughorn confirmed that Algernon had been slipped a love potion. I told him I didn’t know there were love potions for cats, and he told me it was a normal, human love potion. I felt pretty stupid, then. A rare occurrence. It’s a good thing Kettleburn’s not the Potions Professor, or I would’ve felt loads worse.
Sirius and I continued to the Hufflepuff common room, where we persuaded Oswald Fitz to let us in. We asked Robert Caulfield first, but he got cheeky with us. Don’t know what his problem is. Once in, we marched over to Helena and I grabbed Algernon out of her dirty claws. (She didn’t have claws, actually, but I wish I’d cursed her with some. Who gives a cat a love potion?) It appears Peter was right, as she asked if I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with her. I told her if she hadn’t poisoned my cat I might’ve considered it. I was lying, of course, but I think it made her feel worse. Serves her right. Padfoot cast a Tongue-Tying curse on her, which was dead cool, except then I couldn’t ask her about my Cloak. I was so worried about Algernon, though, that I’d rather forgot about it by that point.
Algernon is staying with Kettleburn overnight. Tomorrow I will ask Helena about the Cloak, but if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll hand it over without me asking or she’ll get a lot worse than a Tongue-Tying curse. That Cloak’s been in my family for generations, after all, and I’d rather not have it reek of Helena Hodge. She smells of cabbage.