| TWO. |
[ | |
Posted on the 27th of March 27th, 2009
| | ] |
Since we're all getting nice and comfy and compliant, I figured I might as well get this over with so people won't have to ask! Hello Weasleys and everyone else, I'm Frank Longbottom, 1972.
Seventeen years old, Gryffindor, Quidditch beater, future professional Quidditch player, never made prefect because Abercrombie is a sodding professor's pet. I'll get back to you on marital status, but if ANYONE so much as looks at ALICE PREWETT in the wrong way I'll be paying you a visit and it won't be all that pleasant. Generally speaking, I'm actually quite friendly and like talking to people! When I'm not being held against my will, that is. Apologies for any unnecessary sulking and/or badmouthing about that lovely Skeeter woman, sometimes I don't know what's for my own good!
Anyway, I'm at 11 Quills St. and I'm rooming with--actually I don't recall his name but, yeah. Assistant Chef! Since there isn't a current chef I'm being bossed around by a particular grumpy house elf. It's strange, I thought house elves were supposed to act differently? Mum never really wanted one and-- I actually cut my hand just before my shift was over last night, had to go to the hospital and everything where lo' and behold, more house elves. Sorry if I haven't gotten back to anyone on these things, I'm not really one for writing.
Apparently a few people know me here, but I can't say the same for them.
|
|
|
| ONE. |
[ | |
Posted on the 22nd of March 22nd, 2009
| | ] |
Oi! You lot!
Anyone found a way out yet?
|
|
|