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Post by ADRIAN RAMON DERMANDOIS on Aug 20, 2011 6:22:17 GMT -5
keep out.  now that you surpassed that part of this, i think that you should ought to know that hidden inside a certain hufflepuff prefect's chest lies a book. now, this book isn't too special. it is actually quite old, tattered, and is dearly in need of repair. should i mention that it is running out of pages? filled with ink blots every now and then? obvious signs of ripped-out pages? we are talking about a certain something that i'd like to call... the journal of adrian dermandois. doesn't that have a nice ring to it? rhetorical question, my dears. the only ones actually known to take a peek into this is one mister adrian dermandois, the owner of this lovely journal. secrets, emotions, fears, all about ryan can be found here. ciao, as he says. |
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Post by ADRIAN RAMON DERMANDOIS on Aug 20, 2011 8:06:32 GMT -5
september the first, 1973
the hogwarts express was as crowded as I expected it to be. I mean, with all the new students piling in. I cannot believe that I only noticed them this year. Well, now I have to. It seems all too imaginary to be real that I was made a prefect, no? I'm currently writing this from the prefect's carriage, cabin number three to be exact. I suspected that I'd be the first to arrive, though the message clearly stated that it would start at a quarter to twelve, it is... Six minutes past eleven. So I have... Thirty-nine minutes to prepare. More than enough, actually. I guess that I'll just take a quick moment to write in here. I even had to dig through a lot just to find this hidden underneath several textbooks for Divination.
Okay. I have no idea what to do now. Silvia is still in her second year, so I assume she's with friend and such. Sad to say that she was sorted into Ravenclaw, a house with a common-room quite far from my own. Needless to say, I think I just caught a glimpse of her auburn hair. Oh wait. Nevermind, I think I was just imagining things. But I'm sure that an owl just came in through the window across me. Assuming that it's for me, I don't think I even recognized the owl as my own. Strangely enough, it kept poking me. Should I give in and check who it's for? To be on the safe side, I think I should. One of the reasons was that the wretched owl is pecking my skin off.
——————————— I'm back. It was for me, actually sil to be exact. My parents just cannot wait to owl us half an hour after they drop us off, apparently. Obviously, I won't put the message here. Incase it just so happens to fall into the wrong hands. And besides, the letter is too mushy and long for me even to write it here. and my quill is running out of ink. But anyway, my parents mainly told me, to tell sil, to stay safe and that they were 'extremely proud' of her to be sorted into ravenclaw. Such lunatics. They were in Gryffindor for God's sake! Mush, as I said.
I think I hear someone coming already. Ciao.
---adrian |
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