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The Diary of Betsy Beasley
8 most recent entries

Date:2005-07-28 01:34
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Dearest Diary,

I moved into my new dorm last night. Unsurprisingly, it's become a truly dismal situation. I've somehow managed to end up with Peter Ashford's MONSTROUS sister, Lara, a loutish, cultureless girl who, upon our very first meeting, had the audacity to imply that I belong in Gryffindor House. I was insulted to say the least, but as I am infinitely more mature, I am determined to put that ugliness behind me and simply ignore her uncouth behavior from now on.

On a brighter note, Jeffrey Geoffrey has also been assigned to our dorm. All hope is not lost. We walked round the petting zoo the other day -- it was quite a surprise seeing him there, actually. He's been absent for quite some time. At any rate, it was a very pleasant afternoon. I even touched a unicorn... Really, it was likely the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It felt covered in cornsilk, and it smelled like... well, nothing at all, really, but faintly like flowers. Night-blooming, white, and its eyes were so so calm and beautiful. It makes my heart ache a little to think about it.

Oh, I'm being a silly girl, but it was just such a thing to have seen and touched.


[underneath, a childish doodle of a unicorn]

I feel ridiculous going on about it.

Nothing new beyond that. Going to Hogsmeade tomorrow for new decanter, Moira Patterson's stupid cat broke the old one before I moved. Goodnight.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2005-06-19 01:46
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Dearest Diary,

I'd just like to say for the record that Peter Ashford is a prat. There, I've said it. He's a prat. How on earth was I sorted into such an insufferable house? My housemates, they're all so doom-and-gloomy, or trampish, or snotty. All I want is to have a civilized conversation over a cup of tea, is that really so hard? Honestly.

On that note, I've decided to apply for a new dorm. Moira Patterson's stupid cat has taken to lining up dead mice at the foot of my bed and Moira refuses to do anything in the way of discouragement. I've told her time and time again, they are little mice corpses and they smell and they're unsanitary, but she just shrugs and sputters some nauseating baby-talk at "ickle Patchy-kins, how prouds I is". I simply cannot tolerate such beastly behavior any longer.

Also, someone left a note from Javine for me (probably Hestia) on my bureau. I'm keeping it in this journal for safekeeping.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2005-06-07 23:41
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Dearest Diary,

It seems Jeffrey Finn has left for parts unknown and Javine Lestrange has been married off to one of those despicable Mortlakes. Hestia informed me this evening. I'm quite sad to hear this news.

[Some doodling under this paragraph, curly-cues and a poorly-drawn tea cup.]

Hestia also mentioned that she would be meeting Javine sometime soon. I should like to go along. I haven't seen many familiar faces around here lately.

I haven't got anything to say... Just very blue, no one with whom to talk. I believe I shall take a walk, it's a warm night.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2005-06-06 20:22
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Dearest Diary,

Well, you know, there's so much to write and I cannot think of one thing. I suppose a summary will do for now.

1. I have returned to Hogwarts from a semester at Beauxbatons in France.
2. It was very lovely, very educational.
3. France is heartbreakingly chic. Fashion and fine cuisine and beautiful art and architecture, good Merlin, how I hated leaving.

And here I am back in soggy old England. I believe I shall move to Paris when I have completed my schooling.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2004-10-02 16:36
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Dearest Diary,

I have returned to Hogwarts. Morocco was wonderful, England is, of course, frigid, etc. Classes have not yet started and I seem to have missed a quidditch scrimmage.

I haven't much to say.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2004-09-25 13:12
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Dearest Diary,

The Beasley clan has been in Morocco for a little over a week now. We traveled to Rabat via floo network from Paris, where we spent the day waiting for our request to process. We could have gone straight to Morocco from our own fireplace, really, but Mother insisted upon taking an
official path through the network. Apparently, some glamourized bellboys are more capable of handling our luggage than the lot of us. That may be true for Dad, but Liam and I... Honestly, I'm very organized, I can't imagine what paranoia drives her to take these ridiculous safety procautions. I feel as though I live with an Azkaban guard!

In any case... Morocco is wonderful, really romantic in an Arabian Nights sort of way. I've made a number of very satisfying purchases, tea and clothes and whatnot, but I'm mostly very excited about a set of spices I found at the market. Supposedly they have magical properties (I'm sure they do, the man behind the booth gave me a demonstration), but I haven't tested them out, nor have I managed to decipher any of the arabic (?) instructions that came along with the spices. They're all in tiny, little glass and brass jars, quite pretty on their own, in fact. Buying mysterious spices in a bustling market at night in Morocco, how dangerous.

Liam has, of yet, had no luck securing an apprentice position with the new Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts. Honestly, I wish I could help, but I have yet to set foot in the Arithmancy classroom. I suppose I could talk to someone in that class (oh, how frightfully boring they must be), get some idea of how to approach him or her... I'm really quite bad at reconnoissance, actually, so I doubt I shall be of much assitance to Liam.

Well, we're about to have a late lunch at a very posh French-Middle Eastern restaurant. I've heard very positive things about this place; I will be sure to give a review later.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2004-08-23 14:52
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Dearest Diary,

Well, I think it's clear that I'm not the sort of girl who complains to her journal every single day. However, I think I need to do some sorting-out...

Of course, I've been eliminated from the Triwizard Tournament and I've been seething about it for quite some time now. I no longer feel quite so murderous over it, though, I must admit. I performed quite well, and even my teammates have said so. I take comfort in the fact that they see the injustice in it as well. I shall put this ridiculousness behind me, for it is simply not worth the stress. The staff sent me (and the other rejectees) a commemorative plaque, how... diplomatic.

(However, that Gryffindor twit had better keep her distance. I can't prove it, but I just
know it's all her doing.)

Here's another matter: that boy, Jeffrey Finn. Now, I'll have you know that I do not normally appreciate boys so impolite and crass as he, but there is an undeniable charm about him. I've come to think that whatever silly, school-girlish infatuation I feel for him is just that, and nothing more. He's very romantic, if not outright lustful, and I find that attractive, but... You know, it's just exhausting, I feel as though I must always compete for his attention. I cannot and will not continue to behave in this fashion.

I've often reminded myself that before love, I believe in romance. That remains true. I see all these couples, snogging out in the common room for all to see, exchanging exaggerated words of affection, and for the life of me, I cannot understand how they can confuse romance with love.

No, that's not entirely true. Whatever they have, somehow I can't relate it to romance. I think I must read far too many romance novels (not of the lewd sort, mind you!!).

My mother has owled me my violin. I haven't practised all summer, she says, and I must learn to pay equal attention to my non-magical studies. I disagree with her militant strictness, of course, but I imagine I will likely pick it up again if things become overwhelming. There is, however, a lack of sparsely populated areas in this castle, huge as it is... I don't want to find myself suddenly putting on a performance.

I think I shall go to breakfast now. Someone ought to teach those house elves how to make a proper pot of gold. Honestly!

Yours truly,
Betsy

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Date:2004-08-11 00:42
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Dearest Diary,

Liam gave you to me for my fifteenth birthday and I am just now getting round to writing in you. He thought it was a fine joke, giving his ickle, baby sister an ickle, baby diary in which to pour her heart out, but I assure you, I shall not resort to such typical, adolescent petulance. Not right away, at any rate.

I am currently competing in the Triwizard Tournament, inaptly named as only one school (Hogwarts, of course) is involved. The Slytherin team is leading at the moment, and I imagine we will continue to do so.

I've also taken the position of second-string keeper for our quidditch team. "First-string" certainly sounds more important, but I simply haven't the time to play that often, and besides, the position is already taken by one Walden Macnair.

I purchased
Charm Your Own Cheese (New Revised Edition) by Gerda Curd yesterday, and I must say, it's quite brilliant.

That's all for now.

Yours truly,
Betsy

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