Draco to Harry, by a certain momothelemur

I lol’d.

EDIT: Wait, there’s more:

“It’s wrong on a variety of levels,” Harry answered promptly. “A variety of wrong, disturbing levels.”

“Kind of like your face.”

Harry and Draco, again.

<heeeeheeee>

EDITEDIT: OMG, I love this author.

“But you, Draco Malfoy, cried?”

She turned completely, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a smile firmly planted on her lips.

“No,” Draco answered, seeing that his revelation would provide Hermione with endless fuel for mocking him. “I lied. I laughed evilly and rubbed my hands with glee.”

But alas, my mom scolded me for lack of propriety.

FML.

Excuse the vulgarity of my comeback post.

And the shortness. I have a lot to tell, but for now, it’s just that very first line of this post.

Bye.

Or maybe I am just biased. When I was introduced to C, we spent one whole year doing the basics. We spent two months on variable types alone.

And we were supposed to continue C in our fourth year, too. That’s what the syllabus said anyway. So that all boils down to two years worth of background on the language by the time I entered college.

C++ wasn’t that hard, too, because that’s just a neater version of C.

I mean, look at that, the malloc() which usually runs 10 characters long is just new in C++.

My first reaction on Java however is “This is a bitch.”

And from what I have heard we were supposed to study basic Java for the last quarter, too, but there weren’t sufficient resources.

Resources my ass.

I would like to think I wouldn’t be this bitter and mentally drained right now if we at least studied variable types, because that’s the source of all my problems.

It’s a pain to see a sample code and not know whether the words there are variable names or keywords. I’m beginning to regret switching naming conventions and capitalizing the first letter of the word( ie., ThisIsAVariableName), because apparently, keywords use the same convention, too.

Or I’m just too confused right now.

You know what? I think I’m just frustrated that I forgot to bring my earphones today.

All in all, I’m not the best of shapes today, but somehow I’m not pissed off.

Well, yes, coffee might have a little help with that but seriously. Everything fine and dandy compared to last week’s fiasco.

I guess this bubble came from the fact that I finished my 123 MP earlier than I estimated I would, and with pleasing results too. A little sincere drive to do something worthwhile goes a long way, and as I have mentioned to Azie last night, “moar guilt-free trolling”. It’s been a while since I did something spontaneous without that nagging voice reminding me I still have some backlogs on my desk and/or I’m behind schedule.

Not this time. This time, I can read fanfics, play MW and Jamlegend, and troll on a chan board in bliss.

And the body pains? Well, they’re bothersome sure, but I call them happy pains, because they are the kind of pain that means your body’s adjusting to something or is fully worked out. I do hope this means my muscles will return to their former firmness. Seriously. I’m ridiculously out of shape and it’s something that doesn’t normally happen to me.

Still, I’m glad I still have a semblance of my former stamina. I even got complimented by our instructor. Also, I’m thankful for the people I proclaimed my own punching bags before. I’m sure they have something to do with how I punch and kick now.

I thank my team for maintaining my agility and for dragging me away from my computer station to do something physical during the summer, even if they only slightly succeeded.

(A/N: I can’t resist. Maye, don’t be angry with me. That Facebook quiz result was lying. Alex will forever remain faithful to you, I assure you that. Also, Xander will kill me. )

Now, kickboxing. Yeah. That’s something I never thought I’d consider before. And I blame you guys for that.

Yesterday’s session was surprisingly fun, I should say. Sure my body hurts like hell now but there’s this inane pleasure at releasing tension through continuous kicks and punches. And that your enemy’s quite stuffy and hard. Punching pillows is beginning to lose it’s charm.

Anyway, I think we’ll do it again tomorrow, if Luke’s available (which I hope he will be). It’s been a while since I did something physically engaging aside from dancing, and I sort of miss the concept of restrained violence.

Also, I’ve been reading too much Naruto.

If ever I got interesting in long-range shooting, you guys know where I probably picked that up.

======

Started July 07, 2009

The end.

I wish I had more to tell, really, but that wasn’t the case. All I remember when I woke up was that I dreamt of a boy. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn’t vague, the dream, it wasn’t even blurry. No chaotic mixture of fast-forwarded scenes. Nothing. Can it be called a memory when the mind cannot conjure a scene or vision? It was as if the dream was a mere thought, abstract, indiscernible.

No faces, no conversations, no movements, no places. Only barely-recalled emotions that escapes my grasp the more I try to think about them. Was I elated? Frustrated? Relieved? For sure it wasn’t empty. There was something then. Something…unidentifiable.

Who was he, first and foremost? What did he want from me, or I from him? Why was he there? Why was I there? Were we alone?

Wait, no. We weren’t alone. Who were there with us? What were they doing?

What did we do? I would like to think we talked a lot, but about what?

And if we didn’t, were we just in companiable silence? Or strained awkwardness?

Was he the same person from last time?

If yes, did he not already say goodbye? Why was he back?

Did he indeed return or did I go after him?

I’m going to read this again a few days, months from now and hopefully by then, I already have my answers.

And this will probably be not consistent since I’m typing this at my own leisure.

I’m bored to death and I’m about to bounce off walls again. I don’t think my situation is any different last week. What sucks more is that I don’t know where the heck my Uno deck is and I keep thinking that I wouldn’t be this bored if I was able to bring it today.

Huh. And I wonder how Mom will react when she hears that I just used Maestro to browse the net and do -

(What the heck I just saw a professor walk by holding hands with a female student. Oi.)

- random nonsense stuff just to pass time and avoid brain damage due to boredom.

It also kinda sucks that Fionachu has access to the internet while Maestro can’t even detect DPSM-net nor UPM-net. No harsh feelings though, Fiona. I don’t blame you. (cozy)

So far, nothing has happened. As in, nothing. Nada. Zilch. Poof. Zero. This is worse (or better?) than approximately 1/3 of the block who, at least, was able to meet with their instructor for 30 minutes. I’m seriously hoping we’ll have our lecture class later on, it’s rather depressing to wait til 7:30 in the evening in vain.

In hindsight, I wish I enabled ReadItLater’s offline access. I marked a few stories there that I have not even started reading, yet.

Also, I don’t know when I will be able to publish this but hopefully before I go home. So there.

PS. I am hungry, but I don’t want to spend money. I now regret eating all of those stuff earlier. I am also thankful I have not finished my water this morning, too.

(Incidentally, where are the others? I only know the location of 5 or 6 blockmates. I have no idea where the others are.)

Note to self: study about chemical nomenclature this Wednesday.

Second note to self: read your blog tomorrow as soon as you arrive home. First note will be useless if you don’t.

Bored and soon will be sleepy. It’s amusing how one still feel drowsy even with noise all around. Were the corridors not this populated, I would not hesitate to lie down right now.

(Oh first years, so amusing to watch you guys. I can’t believe I was like you just a year ago.)

. . .

Transferred to CS Lecture room but still no luck on netz. At least Maestro can detect UPM-net now.

And yeah, I don’t think I’ll be able to publish this before I go home. Crappy internet is crappy.

- – -

June 17, 2009, 3:22 PM.

Author conveniently forgot to post this yesterday, as she initially planned.

But, hey, don’t ask for clarifications. I don’t understand half of what I wrote, either.

First off, as far as I know, everyone’s qualified to enroll, except, well, Christmaelyn (for obvious reasons). I am not sure about Jen, though. I checked for “Gabriel” and I didn’t see one. Or, I just overlooked. I think I just overlooked.

Our adviser’s Sir Terrado.

The current price of Chem 14 module is P225.

• Release of Assessed Computerized Form (ACF5) for those who filled out ESF last January 16-22, bring the following:
  >> UP ID
  >> ESF
  >> Medical certificate

  June 2, 9:00-10:00, Cybernook

• Students who were not able to get ACF5 on time:
  >> ESF
  >> Medical Certificate
  >> ACF5/Form 5A (underload)

  June 2, !:00-2:00, OCS Window 3

• Students who got a 4.0/Dropped and underloaded
  >> ACF5/Form 5A of initial enlistment
  >> Graded classcard/dropping slip

  June 2, 2:00-4:00, OCS Window 3

EPN DRAWING schedule for the following students:
1. Without ESF
2. Approved ASOC/Overload

P-Z   June 3   1:30-4:30
K-O   June 4   9:00-11:30
A-C   June 4   1:30-4:30
D-J   June 5    9:00-11:30

ORDER OF ENLISTMENT
June 2-8

June 2
2:00-4:00     CAS Students who were not able to get ACF5 on scheduled date and time

June 3
9:00-11:00; 1:00-4:00   Readmitted, old returning students, students who got 4.0/Dropped, underloaded

ALL NON-STFAP GRANTEES ARE REQUIRED TO SUBMIT COPIES OF ITR FOR REASSESSMENT.

I just wrote what I saw. I don’t know, I don’t understand.

Well, well, well, can you believe it? My first decent post in a long while is about a dream. And this is perhaps the first dream I’ve ever bothered to blog, well, since I started to blog anyway.

And I never realized (lol, line stolen from “Mandy” by Westlife which coincidentally started playing as soon as I started typing that bit) how much of a kickass a dream could be to inspire you to write.

Actually, it all started with a kiss.

No, not really. I just wanted you to continue reading.

It really actually started inside a church. A gothic one at that.

Somewhat like that, I mean, it’s a church. And it’s gothic. And the view was somewhat accurate. We were at the back.

Yes, we. I had a companion, but for the life of dream!me I don’t know why I didn’t even bother to check who was I with.

We were at the back, just near the entrance, and I was mumbling about why St. Jude Thaddeus wasn’t included in the roster of saints the church had (another reason why I chose this picture: it has lots of idols). He (I’m assuming it was a guy for reasons I will tell later.) chuckled but didn’t say anything. We hanged out a few more minutes (lala time zone, people) until a mass began. We waited until the priest formally began the celebration then left the building, him leading the way.

Right after stepping out of the church, I lamented once again about the church not including St. Jude Thaddeus, and told him how he was one of the saints I always cling to in desperate cases; befitting if you ask me because he is, in fact, the patron of cases despaired of.

The next scene I recall was inside GAB 205. There, my vision was rather limited, narrower than my real-life vision span. It was like I was looking through a goggle. There were a lot of computers (naturally), some closed, some open, but the whole place was empty. Well, uh, according to what I saw anyway. My gaze was fixed on the units, going through each of them out of vain curiosity. He was sitting in front, listening to me tell some snippets of my life as a ComSci student, focusing on my misadventures. Er, at least, I do hope he was listening back then. For all I know he could be spacing out. Idiot.

We were then walking a certain corridor, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s the 2nd floor corridor in RH. We passed by the library, in any case, so it must be it. I recounted to him other school experiences, SocSci and Histo5 in particular, mainly because those were the subjects we took in that builiding.

And after all that walking we ended up in a restaurant!

Er, no, that doesn’t sound right. But we did have our next stop at a restaurant.

We drank wine (I made sure it was his treat), ate a few fancy dishes whose names I was (and still am) not aware of. And in the middle of dinner, he asked me, “Don’t tell me Dan Brown influenced your preference to Earl Grey?”

“Hmm? Nah. But he did gave me the idea of adding lemon, though.” I corrected.

He only laughed.

And for the life of dream!me, I didn’t realize that this was the first time he said one full sentence. Oi.

We ate and talked (me talking and he listening) and drank wine.

<-Impish grin.

It was night. We were seated right next to the window. There was a fountain outside. There was a slight drizzle. It was supposedly every romantic girl’s ideal date.

Except, yeah. You know the situation.

Moving on…

We were on a hillside, idle, comfortable, AND IT WAS A FINE DAY.

Like that. Except, we weren’t close at all. He was lying on his back, and I was leaning back, staring at the clouds. There were three dandelions between us. He glared at me when I made to blow them towards his face.

All in all, we were laughing, we were happy.

Like these kids. Except, we weren’t that young and we weren’t that close.

Things got pretty fuzzy starting here. I recall telling him a lot of things I’ve been meaning to write down on my journal but lost the drive to. I told my opinions on a lot of things. I’m pretty sure I swore a lot out of frustration, too.

I asked him questions, but they were mostly rhetorical.

The ones that weren’t rhetorical were considered as one. Jerk.

But like I said, we were happy, we were peaceful. I got emotional a few times, especially when recounting so-so incidents, but I calmed down in the end.

And my companion? He merely lied there and listened. And listened. And listened. And snorted. And chortled. And choked. And laughed. And hummed. Whatever the situation calls for.

In hindsight, I realized he’s the best companion I’ve ever had in years. Aside from my mom, of course. Mom’s the best. She knows when to keep my head away from the clouds.

When I finally fell silent, he poked me in the arm. I looked at him, and he nodded.

For some reason, I just knew he was saying goodbye.

If I was still 100% in lala-land, I would probably have been a drama queen again and hug him or get teary-eyed and then hug him or hug him and tell him not to go.

(What? I get those kinds of whimsical dreams, too.)

Instead, I slapped him in the shoulder and pouted.

Reality!me kicked some reality!sense in dream!me and made me look into his face.

‘Who are you, anyway?’

Then, before any sense of recognition sinks in, I woke up.