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Dear Journal, 

Dear Self, 

Dear Me, 

Dear Rudolph, 


Sorry about that. Not sure how this is supposed to work. Whatever. 


I wanted to share a little about my journey here. Getting sorted into my house. And how classes are going so far. 


Even muggles know about the Hogwarts Express. You jump into a brick wall at platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station and the next thing you know you're whisked away on this luxury train chugging across the English countryside. They serve magical candy. 


That was not my experience. We rode a public bus. It smelled like feet. We were the last stop on a ten-hour route. It broke down twice so we were late and then missed dinner.


But we made it in time to be sorted into our Pigzits houses. Mom and Dad were Plungadors so I was secretly hoping that the Random Drawing Box would pick that. It's exactly how it sounds. We have a wooden box and the teachers write down the names of the houses on little index cards and then we just reach in and pick one out.  


A quick bit about the houses.


PLUNGADOR: Known for their industriousness. Their founder was a plumber who worked long hours and who died on a toilet in his fifties. Their symbol is the sometimes magical plunger. They said it could unclog any toilet. Sometimes it did. Others it did the opposite.


JUSTASTICK: Known for acting fancier than they should. Their symbol is a stick. Not a wand. Just a stick. A normal stick. Their founder saw an important wizard (who did not attend this school) pick up a stick to scratch his back. Or so the legend goes.


WORMULOUS & FISHINGTON: Known for being basically useless. Their symbols are a dead fish and a worm. The story of their founders is that they went on a fishing trip and caught a really big fish and ate it. Then they both turned into fish for three days. One claimed that the fish was magic. The other said it was the bait. We’re not really sure either way but they’ve been rivals ever since.


I walked up to the Random Drawing Box and pulled out Plungador so there you go. Hurray for me.


Classes have been going okay so far. Since we're an unaccredited school that can't afford decent insurance, the Ministry has given us limited access to learning actual magic. They say we might get to do some stuff in year five but I'm not holding my breath.


Here is a list of my first semester classes:


Practical Unemployment

Magical Mediocrity: A History of Pigzits 

Fun with a Broom (without flying)

Maybe Just Don't: Solid Reasons Not to Use Magic

Better Wizards Than You

Sunrise Yoga

Magical Ointments You Can’t Eat & Which Only Work on Scraped Knees


The teachers mostly seem nice. Except for Professor UrurururUrururururur. We have to bring a fish for him every morning and it's already getting old. He teaches Sunrise Yoga and screams everything in dolphin.


It's really shrill and we have no idea what he's saying so we just follow his movements but that's hard to do since he's a literal dolphin. In all honesty it probably looks like a bunch of students flapping facedown on the lawn for an hour. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but I'm allergic to grass. The infirmary says the facial swelling should go down in a few months.


Anyways it's getting late and I have Yoga in the morning. Oh. Awesome. My armadillo just ate my fish for class. Now I'll have to spend my night finding another one. 




Rudolphus Tubb

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