It has been a most unfortunate few months.

Bodric broke in to my cell in April and stole my diary, and upon reading it became worried I had portrayed him in a poor light. Well that was not his exact terminology but you get the idea. I of course poo-poo this and pointed out he, Bodric, does not look good in any light where as I do. I then proceeded to demonstrate my point.

I fear I confused him. And living in fear of bad light he hid my diary in a number of surprisingly inventive places and it is only now I have claimed it back and look...I am still in prison.

There have of course been numerous lackluster plots by those halfwits at FTAO but I still have failed to escape.

In fact I have suffered broken limbs (falling off broomsticks onto battlements is painful you know) and bad hair days (being hidden in a large potato sack can cause split hairs) due to their defunct plans.

Poor Draco. My beloved blonde son, a boy after my own heart, keeps owling me to say his mother is buying him the wrong conditioner. I ask myself what is the world coming to?

Well I must go, time for Bodric's bath...urgh...