Knitting? She can't be serious...

I woke up early yesterday to get myself ready for my meeting with the headmistress. I washed everything--twice--and polished my wand and my shoes. I got out my new hat. While I waited in the common room, I read two chapters of Hogwarts: A History in case she decided to quiz me on any of the other heads of school.

When I arrived at the gargoyles outside her office, she was waiting for me. "This way, please, Mr. Cauldwell," she said, and swept off down the corridor. I followed her, having to move very quickly in order to keep up. She stopped when we got to a corridor with no doors along it. "Stay here," she commanded imperiously, and began to pace. After a few minutes, a door appeared in the wall, and the Headmistress grasped its handle, and pushed it open. She gestured for me to follow her.

My heart was hammering beneath my ribs. Was this some kind of mediaeval torture chamber from the days of corporal punishment? Had Filch, the old blighter, finally won the day with his arguments about thumbscrews? Surely in invisible rooms hidden in castle walls, no one would hear me scream. I entered the room...

...and found wall upon wall of yarn, all colours of the rainbow, all slotted into cubbyholes; shelves full of books with titles like Knitting Without Tears and Stitchionary; baskets full of knitting needles in all shapes and sizes; and in the centre of the room there were two massive armchairs, separated by a small table with a steaming teapot and two teacups.

"Sit," commanded the Headmistress. As I did so, she poured us each a cup of tea from the pot. "Now, Mr. Cauldwell, I have given a great deal of thought to your misdeeds. As I understand that your intentions were not to cause harm to anyone, so must you understand that your intentions count for very little here, and you have harmed poor Miss Abbott." I stammered something in reply, setting down the teacup that my shaking hands were rattling in its saucer. "Naturally, you will be writing her a letter of apology, and if she should find herself in need of assistance in any of her school subjects during the next term, I fully expect you to put your talents into tutoring her. Do I make myself clear?" I nodded--scarcely daring to imagine that this might be the full extent of my punishment.

"Well then, Mr. Cauldwell, tell me this: Do you knit?"

Even now, several hours later, it does seem quite real. The Headmistress is enrolling me in a Magical Fibres class, where I will learn to knit (KNIT?!?) , and craft a whole kit for another student here to make socks. She feels that learning to knit will provide me with positive experiences outside of my realm of experience, and that it will keep me sufficiently busy to prevent me from causing any more mischief. Too bad I can't seem to keep a knit stitch straight for longer than thirty seconds.

What have I gotten myself into?

If no news is good news, then this must be crap

I've really done it this time.



Wisteria and Minee, our prefect and head girl respectively, were to host a welcome back party in our common room last night. In fact, they did host a welcome back party, but I didn't get to attend. Rather, I spent the evening waiting outside of Headmistress Wartbobble's office, waiting to speak to her.

Remember how I was saying earlier that the thing I remember most about first year is getting lost all the time? I had said as much to Michael and Euan as well, and somehow, between the three of us, we came up with the idea of drawing up some maps of the school grounds, and selling them to the first years. We were going to make just regular maps, and then Euan suggested we charm it so that you could tell it where you wanted to go, and it would map out your route. Sounds relatively harmless?

It was, at least until we thought it would be funny to make maps that would misdirect people on purpose...In retrospect, it may not have been the best idea to have the maps direct the holders to Professor Black's personal quarters...or to the Forbidden Forest. Between Black's anger and the tears on the face of the little Hufflepuff girl who spent three hours wandering around the Forest, completely lost, it's a wonder I wasn't expelled.

When I finally got to see the Headmistress, she really had very little to say to me. I stammered for about twenty minutes about how sorry I was. At the end, she just looked me and asked, "Am I right to imagine that these maps were not solely the product of your talents, Mr. Cauldwell?" I couldn't meet her eyes. "Very well, Mr. Cauldwell," she said. "You may return to your common room, and I hope you will tell your associates how fortunate they are that you have neglected to name them as party to this idiocy. I shall expect you to return tomorrow morning, however, and then we can discuss how you might begin to make amends for the...distress that you have caused today. You will go straight to bed, this evening, and I will see you immediately after breakfast. Do I make myself clear?"

I am so dead tomorrow.