Imagine it, a poor First Year is waiting outside the common room, they canât answer the riddle in a way to appease the eagle and must wait until someone else to answer it for them. Itâs getting late, theyâre starting to resign themselves to having to spend the night here.Â
Suddenly, their saviour comes! Itâs a seventh year! Back from a night finishing off their Araithmancy essay in the Library. They look angry, but our poor little first year squares their shoulders, waiting to see what will happen, and hope that theyâll keep the door open for them.Â
The Seventh Year bangs the handle against the wall, and a slightly disgruntled voice asks the question again: âWhat is the truth?â
The Student Replies, âThe Truth is that I am so fucking sick of all these mother fucking questions about stupid fucking topics like this you bloody fuck-witted bastard. Who in the name of Merlinâs saggy left testicle gives a fucking damn about all this shit anyway? Iâve been working my arse off in the library for the last seven hours now let me the fuck in or, truthfully, Iâll blast my way in and take you with me.â
The eagle knocker tutts, but allows the student entry anyway, and our little first year enters, eyes wide and in shock. They watch the seventh year go up to their bedroom, awe all over their face at their new hero. They did, indeed, learn something that day by waiting for someone to arrive, they learnt that swearing has a magic all of itâs fucking own, and that sometimes it is big and clever to use it.Â
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