16 October 1997.
I have been thinking, Anthony seems like he's primed for a career in politics or something equally dreary and respectable so I thought I would think of embarrassing stories that I will be able to tell once he's famous. You know like Sure he seems nice but I knew him when... that type of thing. The problem being that he is Anthony Goldstein. In any case I am going to start recording stories that I think of in the off chance that someone decides they need a human guinea pig and attempts to modify my memory.

I remember one summer holiday before fourth year when Anthony's parents let him visit. We were playing chess one day you see and Anthony went off to the toilet, and after a while I became bored with trying to decide if he would notice if i just moved one of his pawns, and started wondering what the hell was taking him so long, it'd been at least ten minutes. So I went upstairs and found him. In my sister's room, helping her put away her laundry - only she clearly was too busy with the nail varnish to help him. After a minutes worth of puzzled staring and some screaming at Agnes he was downstairs again, and after a while I calmly asked Goldstein why he had been helping the devil clean her room, and he said it was because and I quote "she had a biscuit she said she would give me. And it was the oatmeal kind. You know that's my favourite." My first realisation was that Anthony was sort of like our dog Mags and would do pretty much anything for a biscuit, but later that summer I read Macbeth and realised that it was much worse than that. And that Ladies, Gentlemen, and others, is the story of poor Anthony Goldstein. And now it's time for Charms, I think I have used the whole free period wisely.