Keeping To My Morals

New Summer’s (?) Resolutions

1. LOSE WEIGHT!! (Went swimming with Mum today…urgh. Had to be bribed with a bar of chocolate to show myself. I understand why pregnant women have their own classes now, poor things probably can’t bear to show themselves.)

2. Get fit (But not too much. I do NOT want to turn into one of those muscular women men won’t approach in case they throw them or something)

3. Get a boyfriend (I don’t really want one. But now even Afro Diety (That skinny girl with the hair) has got one so if I haven’t got one I’ll be a Larry)

4. If not a boyfriend, just snog a boy (Don’t want to do that much, but we’re not going on holiday so I need something to talk about on the train)

5. Avoid cousins. (Ew. Is all I can say)

6. Put CDs back into boxes. (OK, so I’ve bought the Gremlins album three times because I keep stepping on it!)

7. Start wearing make up. (Saw Hufflepuff boys fooling around with Afro’s warpaint. If boys are doing it before me, there must be something wrong)

2nd June

10:00 am

Had a very healthy breakfast of wholemeal toast. It tasted like cardboard, so I put some chocolate spread on it. Being healthy is fun.

11:00 am

Mum is tidying up compulsively. Not that that’s unusual, but I had to Leviosa my wardrobe so she could get under it, which is a bit stupid. Especially since there was a hairy great SPIDER under it. I ran for my life.

12:00 am

I am now under the stairs in hiding from Hairy Great Things. Dad has been calling me for a while now. I feel like that girl from I Capture the Castle. What a great book, not. I hate romance, it’s stupid. I’ll probably grow up to be a hermit or a nun or something awful like that. I’ll live in a flat with my ice cream and alcopops and Afro will be living it up with Hairy Gary in a Hairy house with lots of Hairy kids. Ugh. I’m going to be a Hairy Thing’s godmother. Hope it isn’t catching.

12:01 am

I think I am developing a phobia of Hairy Things. I ought to keep notes, it’ll make it easier for my shrink to analyse my brain in 30 years time when I am a hermit with Hairy problems.

12:02 am

What if my shrink is hairy? Then what do I do?

12:03 am

Knowing my luck, I’ll get married to a gorilla, or maybe a wolf. Wolves are actually quite pretty.

12:04 am

Did I just call a wolf pretty?

12:05 am

OK, I really am insane. There was probably some hallucinogenic mould on that bread. Knowing my parents, they’ve probably started a farm. No wonder health freaks are always so weird. If I have to sit next to Afro when she’s doing her Drum Kit impression again, I’ll die.

12:06 am

I did try to join in, but I got a bit confused with the knee and the clicks and the “wicha-wicha”. I ended up sounding more like a rapping thunderstorm.

6:00 pm

Have had incredibly stimulating afternoon avoiding Hoover-Mum (They have a lot in common, they’re noisy, tidy and I don’t like being around them when they’re together) and Hairy Things. Dad has checked for Hairy things, bless him. I told him he needed a shave, and he said he was growing a beard, so he wasn’t going to. Help me…I’m going bald before the Hair closes in on me.

6:01 pm

There’s a THING knocking at my door. Better put away the chocolate in case they see me. (OK, the new diet isn’t working. But today doesn’t count. And it’s Fair Trade, so…yeah.)

“Coo-ee! Nymphadora!” says a haughty, girly voice.

“Who are you ?!” I squeak.

“Your favourite cousin!” The Voice has abandoned pretence. It is quite deep, masculine. Not Elvis-deep, more of a Sexy-Russian-Guy-from-that-Muggle-Movie deep. I would be posing sexily on my bed by now with my pash wrapped around me, if I weren’t about to faint from the sheer horror of the THING that opened my door.

Sirius is here. With a suitcase.

If this doesn’t drive me insane, nothing will.