Oh my days! You'll never believe what happened today. You know Mr. Montgomery - Thomas, in the year below - the one whose mother ran off with a - a - you know. (I still remember when the news first broke: I think half the school knew about it before Mr. Montgomery did. I didn't say anything in earshot of him, of course.) And I have always tried to be perfectly polite to him since - even when he loses his temper about it. Remember when he started transfiguring birds out of anger? I understand you must feel some sort of confused when your mother turns out to be a runaway harlot, but it hardly seems fair to take it out on other people's shoes.

Anyway, I had nearly almost forgotten about that scandal, but this morning when we were coming out of Charms before lunch, he dropped a piece of parchment from his bag and I, well, picked it up. I wasn't going to look at it, I would have given it straight back, but he'd already disappeared out of sight so I supposed I had better check that it wasn't just rubbish after all. And oh. It was a letter. From none other than his mother! (I know this because she signed it as his mother, of course - lest you think she was sending him erotic portraits of herself, I don't know...) I skimmed it - how could I not - and it sounds as though she's been writing to him for ages! I wonder if he writes back. I don't know what I would do, in the wake of such a scandal. Die, I suppose. The embarrassment would be far too much to bear.

Anyway, then it was lunch - I had quite lost my appetite, thinking of the... pornography... - and when everyone came into our next class I did my best to slip the letter back into his bag discreetly, so that we would not have to make awkward eye contact over such a thing; and the last thing I want is for the whole class to find out! I suspect he may have seen, though, for I was fumbling a little more obviously than I'd hoped. So, either he knows, or he thinks I'm a petty thief. I wonder which is worse.

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