Day One: Of Goblin Blood, Treacherous SHOs and The End

I was tempted to delete the last post (but no, I hyper-link it instead) and pretend it never happened... the experiment, i.e. But the sad truth is that it did.

Day One saw me waking up at quarter to six (which, as we all know is a crime in December) and smell the ever-so poisonous medicine/ herb/ instant death potion as my mum forced it in my hands even before I had opened my eyes. Charming morning, ain't it? So there I was, barely awake, sitting with that awful-smelling goblin-blood like substance (I bet Crabbe and Goyle's bogey-flavored Polyjuice Potion tasted better than that) and willing to do anything to just rid myself of the smell. A smart person would've just thrown the entire thing down the sink, but not me. I tried to drink it. That was when I decided it couldn't be Goblin blood for blood - any blood - HAS to taste better than that thing! It tasted like a mixture of paper mache, dried grass and sand. Even though the mind insisted I finish the entire thing, the body refused and sent everything back where it had come from...

Thus ending this unfortunate adventure.

Moral of the story: Never trust an SHO.