|padfooturban||09:21 am - I DID IT!|
I now, as of 10:20 (ish) this morning, as a lisenced boater in the state of Mississippi. Heeheehehehehe....
I only missed 5 questions out of 75. Now I've moved on to other tasks; ie: making blueberry muffins.
But while those delicious delicacies are in the oven baking and shifting from gooey dough into rich, golden brown delights (Like you Moony, just lighter 'cuz they'll taste bad if I burn them...) I figured I should write once more to my dearly loved Marauders.
So I am.
Well, g2g.. Mum's being evil & making me get off to finish my curtian.
Some favorite Harry Potter book (5) excerpts:
A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."
"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione.
"I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something...Of course, he might have crawled up into the airing cupboard and died...But I mustn't get my hopes up..." -Sirius
"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.
"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away again.
"Cool name," said Harry, grinning, "But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."
"Shut your face."
"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,' can I use them then?"
"Well, I had one that I was playing Quidditch the other night," said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "What do you think that means?"
"Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," said Harry, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest.
"--but you get these massive pus-filled boils too," said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet."
"I can't see any boils," said Ron, staring at the twins.
"No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public --"
"-- but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the --"
"Well?" said Ron finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?"
Harry considered for a moment.
"Wet," he said truthfully.
Ron made a noice that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.
"Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily.
"Oh," said Ron, his smile fading slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?"
"Dunno," said Harry, who hadn't considered this, and immediately felt rather worried. "Maybe I am."
Fred and George were looking particularly annoyed; both were bandy-legged and winced with every movement.
"I think a few of mine have ruptured," said Fred in a hollow voice.
"Mine haven't," said George, through clenched teeth. "They're throbbing like mad...feel bigger if anything..."
As they climed the staircase, the photos of various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.
"'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now --"
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.
"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes --"
"I have not got spattergroit!"
"But the unsightly blemishes on your visage, young master --"
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. "Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!"
He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces.
Hermione drew herself to her full height; her eyes were narrowed and her hair seemed to crackle with electricity.
"No," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother."
"You wouldn't," said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.
"Oh, yes, I would," said Hermione grimly. "I can't stop you from eating the stupid things yourself, but you're not giving them to first years."
Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt.
Current Mood: awake
Current Music: A Lot of Things Different (Kenny Chesney)