So, I was going to post a short but witty review of the BW's school report from the end of last term, but then I spoke to the BW on the phone this evening, and he told me a story which frankly blows anything amusing I might be able to write about his latest set of grades clean out of the water...
Picture the scene...
It is Wednesday morning, just after half past eight. There is a cold wind blowing across the fens. The grey streets are deserted. Christmas decorations hang limply from lamp-posts and above shop windows. It is as if they know that the festive season is over and that it is only a matter of time before they are taken down and returned to the boxes in which they will be stored deep in some damp, dank cellar for the next eleven months.
Suddenly a car pulls up outside the entrance to Hogwarts. A small, bespectacled boy, barely visible beneath his enormous pale and dark blue scarf, emerges from the car and runs through the front gate. He is clearly in a hurry - he does not even have the time to turn and wave goodbye to his mother before disappearing around the corner.
The boy looks at his watch.
8h35.
He's late. Very late.
Which would explain the fact that the school appears deserted. Naturally, everyone is in assembly. But what should he do ? Wait outside ? Or go in and risk being embarrassed in front of the entire school ? On the first day of term ?
His heart starts to pound. A particularly strong gust of wind sends a chill straight through him. He tugs on his scarf, intending to tighten it, but instead it unfurls and falls from his neck to the ground. He picks it up and wraps it once more just above the collar of his blazer.
He must make a decision. To go in or not to go in ?
Then, just as he is about to swallow his pride and head for the Great Hall to join his friends in the school assembly, he hears a voice behind him. It is Hagrid, the school caretaker.
Hello there, Master Boy Wonder. What are you doing here at this time ?
Er, hello Hagrid. I don't know. I mean, er, I do know. I'm late.
Late ? I don't think so, Master BW. Unless you've come for the Christmas concert, that is. Otherwise I should say that far from being late, you're early. Very early indeed, in fact. Positively premature.
Early, Hagrid ? I don't understand.
Well, what I mean is this, Master BW : I know that you're always one to be punctual and prompt whenever you can, but I think that on this occasion you've maybe gone a bit far, seeing as... term doesn't start until tomorrow.
All right, so I admit, I may have embellished the story a teeny little bit. In fact, as both the BW and the Mother Superior had read on the blue sheet thoughtfully provided by Hogwarts to all pupils and parents, term did indeed start on Wednesday - but only for borders. And only at 21h00. For all other pupils, the BW included, it began on Thursday.
So, naturally, the following morning, for the first day proper of the Easter quarter, the BW arrived... late.
So late that he missed the beginning of the assembly, thereby missing the instructions given to certain pupils to sit at the front, so that they could receive the prizes they had been awarded on the basis of their performances last term (or, to be more precise, over the Michaelmas and Christmas quarters).
Which meant that he had to rush up from the back when he was called on to receive prizes for English (a copy of the excellent poetry anthology, The School Bag), Science and Music (two £10 book vouchers)...
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