The Chronicles of Lucius

The Chronicles of Lucius

It's My Party

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April 30th 1993

Hair 'crimped' (Have given into wife's need to play with new hair-styling toys. Did not wish to feel wrath of wife's riding crop again. Wife v. kinky beast. Rawr). Evil glare turned off for day (Am bored of evil-glaring at Hell in hopes that something might happen. Hasn't worked in past two weeks. Bored bored bored! Can't even bully board, as self might go over top and kill them all. Am so v. bored). Robes as stylish as ever for Sexy Icon of wizarding world. Arse refirmed after confinement to small padded room in holiday home.

Am bored.

Wish son would come home so self could torture him.

Hell, wish any visitors might drop by, so self could torture and maim them horribly, as self is so v. v. bored and has nothing to do. Tearing out toe-nails of unsuspecting guest is looking more and more fun by the minute.

Yes. Am bored.

Even wife isn't helping.

Nor is new hairstyle. Wife said something about seeing it on Lockhart, favourite celebrity blond himbo of wife. Personally think self looks more glamorous than poncy Lockhart-twit. Better hair. Better robes. Sexier arse.

Plus, have suspicion that Lockhart may be inclined other ways.

Silly, tasteless blond fool is far too interested in hair and clothing (with NO style. Am forced to cringe when he wears cool cerise with deep shade of mauve! The man has no colour co-ordination ability!) to be real, manly wizard. If he showed interest in his arse, self would know for a fact that Lockhart was bent as a hairpin.

Anyway, will not deliberate on him.

Would hate for wife to get wrong idea of self's mocking.

Wife believes self mocks when self truly cares.

Self called wife a stupid cow.

Wife beamed at self as if self had just announced love for her, under sonorus charm in middle of Diagon Alley. Was not being romantic, really. Was just calling wife silly cow, because wife is - in fact - a silly cow.

Have a suspicion if self explains this to wife, v. hot crimpers in wife's hand might end up elsewhere on anatomy and am really not in the mood for trying to get ripples out of self's bits and pieces.

Boredboredbored.

Am tempted to play Quidditch with head of house elf.

Is a sign of how bored self is, that self would voluntarily mount a flying phallic symbol and take the masochistic 'maids' (Am talking house-elf, but makes it so much worse to word it like that) heads and throw balls through holes.

Will not read into self's mind.

Am living in state of perpetual Freudianism, since reading his book. Am seriously contemplating using time turner to go back and kill bloody man, so no one else must suffer horrific thoughts his books bestow on people.

Stupid Freud.

Stupid wife.

Stupid boredom.

Will write when something interesting is happening. Might take a while.

***

May 2nd 1993

Hair matted (Will kill wife for leaving self's hair in such a state when self can move out of bed. Am ill). Evil glare currently burning a hole through canopy of bed since wife and son are both absent (Bloody fools don't even have courtesy enough to come and see self when self is ill! Wife was meant to be bringing self a fresh packet of baby-soft hankies! (Not that self is a baby, but first ones were too hard on self's sore nose. Self deserves better treatment than this, dammit! Self is a bloody invalid!)) Robes look exceptional considering self is quite clearly dying of this horrendous illness (Wife insists it is just a cold. What does stupid wife know anyway? Am obviously dying of plague or black death or something equally horrible! Must update will and leave nothing to wife or son for rejecting self so in self's hour of need). Arse as ill as rest of self and no one even cares that self might be dead by sundown!

Am ill.

Horribly so.

Am sure am dying of what appears to be plague. V. nasty.

Self's woke up this morning and fell over. Self is sure self looks utterly dreadful with swollen red nose, blankets tucked up to self's ears, head aching, mucus everywhere and - worst of all - bad hair!

And three days before self's birthday as well!

Have family not heard of sympathy for dying man? Am appalled that callousness of family extends to self! Self did not magically install bell by bed for wife to stop serving self after only nine and a half hours!

Must ask her why she feels that running after self is too much like effort!

After all, self only wanted chocolate.

Is it self's fault that wife: a) went to wrong country for them and had to re-apparate a dozen times to find right chocolates, then b) got spotted by stupid muggle shop keeper due to lack of subtlety in buying expensive chocolates (I.e. appearing in shop, taking box and vanishing without paying. Is v. amusing to have photographic evidence of stupid muggle faces. Occasionally return to torture stupidest-looking ones - is fun!) and c) was arrested for abuse of the continental-hop law (which self made up, just so self could have pleasure of seeing wife in handcuffs (Yep, was v. satisfying to perform arrest on wife. Wife v. suspicious about why self keeps handcuffs in bedroom when it is not self's jurisdiction, but when self countered with question about wife's possessing a riding crop when she doesn't have horses, wife shut up v. quickly and had v. silly grin on face).

Was v. amused by arrest of wife, esp. extra touch of sending her to dungeons, until self realised self would have no one to feed self hot soup and chocolate buttons, so wife received sentence - to serve self for eternity. Believe wife to think that self is joking. Self most certainly isn't and self wants peeled grapes now, dammit!

Ah, wife is back.

Honestly, one would think she could get grapes by hand from all continents in less than five minutes.

Stupid wife.

Will find replacement if self survives the night. Will tell of it in Chronicles too.

If self survives.

Self has serious doubts.

Must write new will when wife isn't looking (See! Even when self is dying, self is v. evil and cunning! Am so v. bad!).

***

5th May 1993

Hair perfection incarnate. Evil glare diminished in wake of birthday bash (Well, all right, is on reduced mode, so friends (aka fellow followers of snake-faced Dark Lord. Must admit that Dark Lord's meeting provided some v. good friends who know that giving muggles with additional torture sets and chains as birthday presents is v. appropriate. Most other 'friends' tend to send self socks. Stupid friends. Prefer homicidal ones. Are so much more interesting) don't think self has turned soft. Like that would happen!). Robes - glamorous as befits a stunningly sexy evil fiend (Am so damn hot that might burn someone! Wonder if Dark Master might be resentful that self is still best-looking evil bastard when he returns. Mind you, Dark Master did consider himself a stud. And Dark Master also found snakes good for in depth discussions of astrophysics. Enough said, really). Arse in tip-top condition (Wife found firming spell - cheeks like steel!)

Is my birthday!

Am forty years old old enough to do indecent things to self's wife, but not old enough to collect a wizarding pension (Age for receiving wizarding pension was upped to five hundred years old on account of Nicholas Flamel. On self's suggestion, of course, as Flamel was v. old. Am so sneaky! Was most amused by fact that few wizards even reach one hundred fifty. Ministers are idiots and did not realise that poor wizards and witches will starve in old age, while self will have millions to spend on luxury, as self is all respectable in wizardy world. Stupid wizarding world. Am so v. evil!)

Party begins in an hour. Am so v. excited! Hope someone will have had sense to bring Gandalf-wannabe's head on a platter. Would be the ideal present! Self would mount it on the wall with a plaque!

Wife would probably dislike it, but self is still in a bad mood with her for ignoring self when self was dying (Obviously self did not die of horrible disease - wife was proved right. Again. Stupid sodding wife. So self has even more reason for ignoring her and calling her names. Hate it when wife gets snotty about being right. She just looked at self this morning, smiled and said 'Feeling better?' - Self could feel the taunting! How dare she! Not that she actually said 'I was right', but self knew that was what she meant. Could sense it in the way she looked at self. Self is v. astute that way. Grr. Daft wife.)

Anyway, on to self's birthday.

Self didn't get a Porsche, but did get v. nice gift from dear father: a 1920s vintage Rolls Royce complete with wailing duchess and duke within. Do so love torturing aristocracy! They scream like big sissy girls!

Apparently father filched them with a time turner and is now wanted by the Ministry of Magic for misuse of magical artifacts. Am so impressed! Father really pulls out all the stops when finding the best present he can. Father really is v. spiffy!

Apart from fact that he also sent a card saying that the curse will start working soon.

Am not paranoid, really. Am sure he was joking.

Still, have hired an exorcist anyway.

Nothing like being prepared!

Not that I don't trust father. That's half the problem - trust father to keep his word, as father is v. honourable old fart, which means that curse is probably well on it's way here already.

Maybe it will work on party guests, killing some of the more annoying ones (ie. The ones who bring socks for self's birthday. Stupid fools deserve nothing less than a v. good dose of patriarchal cursing!) and saving on catering.

Hmm.

Must look up spell about controlling familial curses.

Will write later!

***

8th May 1993

Hair still strangely good considering what happened on birthday night (Or what self can assume happened - too much booze. Have been unconscious for nearly a full day and a half). Evil glare substituted with large ice pack over eyes (Must remember not to drink at parties. Never, ever results in anything good. Must learn from this. Must learn to say no to strip-n-sip wizarding poker (Basically, when one loses, one removes item of clothing and takes wizarding equivalent of a sip = one pint of drink of choice. Am beginning to think choosing Jack Daniels was a v. bad idea. Also, agreeing to Poker in first place was v. stupid. Only card game self knows is exploding snap). Must also invest in person to discover cure for hangovers. Groo...) Robes replaced with... am not sure what, but looks strangely like something... where did wife get Gogo Dancer outfit? Arse is bruised, yet self cannot remember why (Am worried about this! Wife keeps giving self knowing, wicked looks. Am hugely concerned!)

Last think self recalls is falling over.

Am beginning to see a pattern in situations that occur when self attends parties and must remember that self a) can't hold booze, b) seems to lose all inhibitions when slightly merry and c) (Worryingly) looks good in a dress.

Will try not to think on it.

Am concerned enough about perverse son and his fixation on green-eyed boy. Yes, stupid green-eyed Pot boy was mentioned in self's birthday scroll from son. Just what self needed. Image of Pot-boy for birthday. I mean, mental image. Self does absolutely not need image of Pot-boy! Self doesn't even recall that Pot-Boy has v. fascinating green eyes! Really!

Ahem.

Will go and look at scroll signed by Board of Governors to cheer self up with thought of kicking Gandalf-wannabe out and take self's thoughts from bloody Pot-boy. Not that self is thinking of Pot-boy.

Gnuh...

Am sure it is hangover talking.

Self sounds so much more brainless than usual. Will go find potion to cure headache.

***

9th May 1993

Will detail later!

Word just came in from Hell! More petrifications have happened! Am so happy! Will write more later!

***

9th May 1993

Hair just released from ribbon (Only bad part of day, really). Evil glare replaced with big, happy, smug grin (and occasional giggle, but manliness does not matter right now, as self is so bloody evil! Can giggle evilly!). Robes look more dashing than ever before, as they always do when self has done something smug and evil! (Am so v. bad!) Arse worthy of being elevated to highest level of the aristocracy!

Gandalf-wannabe is GONE!

Self went up to school (Managed to avoid running into strange-smelling greasy Head of son's school house. V. relieved, as self was looking too good to be soiled by presence of grease-man. Am sure that grease from him can jump to self. V. not good for self's complexion) with pre-signed scroll because self is so v. organised and went to strange shack of v. large and odd-smelling hairy man, where Fudge just happened to be as well (Always love scaring daft old fart. Is so v. easy) and gave precious scroll to Gandalf-wannabe, who then talked to wall and left.

Knew old man had cracked. This provided solid evidence.

Self was so damn good!

"We feel you've rather... lost your touch."

Damn, self was on top form in the evilness stakes! Am the best! Am so wicked and bad and everything else spiffy!

Unfortunately, evilness was somewhat undercut by fact self had to wear a bow to ensure hair didn't get out of self's control. V. annoying! After self vowed never to wear a ribbon again, self had no choice, since all self's dominant and manly bobbles seemed to have gone missing.

Self went to wife before self went out and asked for a leather thong, or something pertaining to a sexy villain image. Wife went into underwear drawer and pulled out a tiny, black leather thong. And not of hair-tying variety. Am not sure self wants to know why wife has something like that! Looked like it could serve as a cheesewire, it was so tiny!

So, self was forced to resort to ribbon.

Still, self's evil sneer and mocking raised brow negated wimpy effect of ribbon.

Plus, am sure self saw Fudge quivering with self's dominant manliness.

Either that, or he was observing self's evil cane again.

Either way, self made sure to keep a fair decent distance from him (Stupid little man tried to take scroll from self. Like self would give him anything! Fudge obviously has it bad for self, trying to steal trinkets from self, no doubt for shrine to self that self is sure he has in his basement) so he could not paw at self.

And Gandalf-wannabe is gone!

Self made a plan and it worked and...

It worked.

Eek!

This is a first!

Self succeeded in creating a cunning plan, which worked, and made evil look so v. sexy without even trying! Am so v. v. Bad! Maybe self really should consider trying to take over Dark Master's title! Would make evil look good!

Am going to go and celebrate with wife! Wife has no clue what is happening (As usual), but am sure she will be more than willing to celebrate fact that self is so damnably sexy.

Will write more later!