Dear Prudence,
You, my friend, are a diary. I have named you Prudence because that's an old song that Daddy likes to listen to.
I was speaking with Madam Pomfrey, mostly about all the stress, and she advised me to write everything down so that I don't bottle things up anymore. There's so much going on in my life right now I don't even know how to keep up with it all. I've got to keep up with my shifts for prefect duty. I've got to maintain my good marks in class. I have to keep up with my social life. It's a lot to go through.
I got turned down for the internship at St. Mungo's. They felt that I wasn't qualified enough yet, but that I should try again next year. I don't think I will. I never really liked old people anyway, so cleaning up after them won't be fun at all. I have been thinking about pursuing teaching, though. I'm fairly good at Arithmancy, I think. It was one of my two O's on my O.W.L.'s. Daddy was so proud of the O's. He's a Squib, Prudence. That means that he can't use magic, but everyone else in his family can. So he's sort of the black sheep of the lot of them. He even married a Muggle. But they, the family, accepted me with open arms since I could do magic. It's all a crock of baloney is you ask me. But I'm not going to complain to them about it.
Oh, that was the bell. I've got Advanced Potions now. Yuck.
Sincerely,
Lisa
P.S. - I'm going to be a model.
