Laurence Foggington

I feel sick. I think it's an after affect of the drugs. All I can really remember is being in tears the whole time. Francis. My Francis accused of treason. And someone thought I was involved too. This is horrible. They kept me here for hours asking the same questions over and over.

Apparently I'm cleared, though. They said they're going to put me on the train back to school soon. I don't know whether or not they wrote my parents. I know they definitely didn't tell Charis and she's probably worried.

Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, this entire thing will have turned out to be a horrible nightmare.

I'm really worried about Francis. I slept in Charis's room last night which I do a lot, and he doesn't mind it, but when I came back to the dorm after breakfast to get my books he was really upset. I couldn't figure out why he was so cross, because I sleep at Charis's sometimes, but he accused me of being off fucking someone else, even though he knows I'd NEVER do that. And he was in a really bad mood, he hit me a couple of times like he does when he's really cross. I don't mind that, really, he's just not good at controlling himself when he gets angry and he's always really sorry afterwards. It's just embarrassing when I start crying. But he started crying too, when I did, and instead of him petting me I had to hold him and he said he wanted me last night, because he'd been having bad dreams. And then he said he thought Crabtree put a curse on him or something, though how a first-year would have managed that I don't know. I'm concerned that there's something wrong with him, but I can't really tell Charis, he'd be really angry with me, and she'd be really angry with him. I don't know what to do.

Poor Francis had nightmares all night and he kept waking me up. Nearly dozed off in my porridge this morning. I think I'm going back to bed. I can finish my essay later.

Don't know what's wrong with him. He isn't usually like this, but I can't really say anything because he's in a foul mood, of course. Just have to wait for it to blow over and try not to get in his way.

Charis is a LEFFOY. I know people have been saying that for years, but now the Leffoys are admitting it too!

I'm still wowed. So's Francis. Mum gave us a dirty look when we came in but I don't care. It's good to see him.

Let us go, then, you and I, and get drunk,
And I will hold your hair back while you're sick:
For love, when squandered, hurts -- well, who'd have thunk
That Ghislaine would turn out like such a bitch?

I promise you will find your someone new.
You are my friend (although you are a girl),
And friends to one another must be true
(Though drunk enough the world begins to whirl).

When you are sober we'll look back and laugh
At foibles and our drunken revelry.
I kept you from the wedding and a gaffe!
Try not to think on beds and canopy.

For love, when squandered, cuts the lover deep.
I won't sneak off for sex 'til you're asleep.

*

There once was a fellow named Francis
Who hated going to dances
But one day he met me
And we went out to tea
And enjoyed our inverted romances.

Charis is dead drunk on the divan in our parlour, and Mother thinks this may be a slight problem if she wants to have guests. I've managed to convince her that it's not a difficulty, but she might change her mind.

Poor Charis.

On the other hand, Francis is here, and I can sneak into his room at night (Francis's room is nicer than mine, because Father approves of him and not of me) and that's very nice indeed.

I wrote to Tommy but he hasn't written back. I'd have invited him, too, only Charis and Francis don't like him awfully.