Lola Sloe

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Lola Sloe
Biographical Information
Full nameLola Mae Sloe
Born21 March 1914
BirthplaceSan Francisco, California, USA
ResidenceSan Francisco, California, USA
Blood StatusHalfblood
EducationHogwarts - Gryffindor,
Physical Information
Family Information
SpouseSingle Mother
ChildrenTallulah Sloe
ParentsBuck Sloe
SiblingsHank Sloe
Magical Characteristics
OccupationMagical Psychologist - Private Practice

Biography, Circa 1945


Property of L.M.Sloe, LMP, LMH

If found please return via owl to the private practice of L.M.Sloe, San Francisco, California, United States of America

This book of list is charmed. If it is read, THE OWENER OF THIS PROPERTY WILL KNOW. There will be consequences. You have been warned.

I've been told it's unfair, passing my days and paying my bills by telling others what is wrong with them, how to fix it, when there is so much wrong with me, so much to be fixed.

I know what is wrong.

Here are the absolute truths about me:

1. I have regrets.

-Anyone who has made it to thirty and says they have no regrets is a liar. Here are some:

A. One lives in Cheltenham.

--He is married to a kind Muggle woman whom I would love nothing more than to punch in the teeth.

--He has two children who have his nose and not my eyes.

--He was a mistake in the first place.

--He was never right for me.

--We were young and stupid.

B. One lives in the room next to mine.

--I should have fixed the problem when I could.

--She is ten now.

--She has her father’s nose and my eyes.

2. I have great loves.

-These tend to be to my detriment. Here are some:

A. Most of them live, periodically, at the house of the two best.

--It is in Switzerland.

--It smells like lavender.

--There is a sofa there that has my name on it. Literally. I scratched my name into it one night. I don’t think they know; I wouldn’t have heard the end of it. They like their things.

--This is where I wash up, when I need some time to wash out.

B. One of then lives in Cheltenham, in a flat where I had lived, with a Muggle girl whom I would love nothing better than to punch in the teeth.

--We were young and stupid.

--We were brilliant.

--We loved each other desperately, when we loved each other at all.

3. I have a problem. -Some things are better left unsaid.

Here is what I do to fix this.

1. I stopped running.

-I have been in my life like a bird, only lighting on branches long enough to be seen, or to be held, or caught briefly. I am now caged. Here is how:

A. I put down roots where I first sprouted them.

--Hank stayed in England.

--Buck stayed in England.

--I came home to the same old place in San Francisco.

--I mow the lawn on Sundays.

B. I have taken up an office.

--It is equal distances from home and from T’s school.

--It pays the bills.

--I pay the bills.

---Sometimes I feel dreadfully dried-up.

2. I still run, in controlled sprints.

A. When T is with her father, I stay where it smells like lavender.

B. I have a problem.

C. There’s always work to be done

--(when there’s nothing else to be done for it.)

I have worked for what I have. I have taken everything, turned it to nothing, and built it back again from the pieces. I have earned this. I can own this.

Can you own yours?

Biography, Circa Third Year


This Diary Belongs to LOLA SLOE.




Jan 1, 1965.

1. Dad said I should start writing lists of things to do and\or important things and so I told him that was the dumbest thing I ever heard. And he said you'll be a young lady soon, Lo, and ladies must be organized. And so I said We'll see about that one.

2. Save up for ant farm.



2. Keep up with stupid Transfiguration homework this semester, even though I think it's the most pointless subject in the whole word. I don't see why Valle del Sol even offers it. I mean, if you want a wall to be red, paint it red. And if you want green zebra print shoes? BUY THEM. I tired to tell Mr. Flemming this last semester. And he said, LOLA SIT DOWN AND MIND YOUR NOTES. I think it's because he's the man and he's trying to keep me down.



5. Kick Hank in the shins very very hard.

6. Resolutions are stupid.

++Hank borrowed my bike for the day, because his bike is broken with a flat tire and because he wanted to go get a soda at the beach. And so I told him, Hank, don't get a flat tire on my bike like your stupid bike has because it's mine and i need it to ride around on and youknowallthat. And he said I won't, Lola, give me a break. And I said sure, sure, but I let him borrow it anyway. And would you guess what? He brought it back with a flat damned tire. Hank is the worst brother ever sometimes.

Feb 10, 1965

1. SAVINGS REACHED. Order ant farm asap.

2. Be the best ant caretaker in the world, ever.

3. Practice writing birthday card note for Mother.

4. Ok.

Dear Mother,

You're stupid.

Dear Mother,

Even though you're a moron and left us just because Dad can do magic and you can't, I guess I'm still half you. I think it's likely the part of me that drools while I sleep.

Dear Mother,

You're thirty-eight. That's really cool, I guess, but you want to know what's much cooler? Hanks is eighteen now and about to graduate from 'that stupid dirty smoke-and-mirror school' and he's damned good at flying a broom, and I think he's really got a future. The Left Coast Lores are looking in to signing him as a benched Beater, which is really good for a kid fresh out of school. He's tall now, too, even taller than Dad is and much taller than I think you are, because I think, really, that you're very very small. And Dad, well. He's dean now over the whole Muggle Studies department, and he's doing a really swank job of it and I'd be damned surprised if he didn't make dean of the whole university soon enough, because he's a good person and a good professor and I believe in him. And me, you know, I am still, go figure, Lola. And you...are still gone. Happy birthday anyway.

Dear Mother,

There was once a little girl made completely out of very bright colors. Mostly, she only just hurt peoples' eyes. I mean, she was very bright. And not just usual bright, either. I'm talking, like. Aqua and lime and electric orange and FIRE RED and then, you now, a lot of different shades of hot pink and a bunch of different yellows, like squash yellow, and daisy yellow, and sunset yellow, and BRIGHT BRIGHT YELLOW. And again, you know, she was so full and so bright and so damned COLORFUL that, like I said, she hurt the eyes and hearts, sometimes, of people. Important people. But she couldn't help it--she was born like that. She just game out of the womb, and BAM. There she was, all colorful and bright. And I mean, she tried really hard not to be bright. She tried to be all grey and stuff. She wrote grey letters, and wore grey t-shirts and shoes, and she tried to grow grey flowers. And she ate grey breakfast, with grey eggs and grey orange juice. She even read grey books about grey things, and filled her head with grey thoughts. And then she turned five, and she hadn't changed well enough, because she was still all...bright. And such. Well, and then nothing changed at all, even for her efforts, and she still stayed the same, and then she was alone. And still over bright. And still hurt peoples eyes. And that was, really, all there was to it.

Happy birthday.


Happy Birthday.


5. DONE.

Feb. 15, 1965



Mar 3, 1965

1. Ant farm and ant family are here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2. Set up ant farm.

3. Place ants in ant farm.

4. Love ants.

5. Maybe I should name the ants? Do ants need names? I mean. I know that they SHOULD have names and all, but the funny thing about ants is that they come in TUBES, and then you have to like...put them in the ant farm and the sand and all, and they all look the same? And I mean. I don't know how you even SEE them, but I bet maybe you can. But then I am also even sure you won't be able to tell them apart, and by "YOU" I meant me, but maybe I should try anyway? I guess we'll see about that one.

6. That was a pretty orderly list!!! Maybe I should show Dad. He'd be pretty proud, I think, and that would be pretty nice because, mostly, I'm pretty garbage at making lists, which should make me a young lady, but oh well.


Susan B. Anthony, Susan, Susan Ann, Martha, LOLA SLOE JR., Abigail Adams, Abi, Abbey, Gracey, Jamie, Charlotte, Lena, Leno, Lili, LOLA SLOE JR. JR., Tegan, Beth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth Stanton, Shannon, Megan, Anne, Annie, Annie Oakley, Amy, Amelia Earhart, Rachel, Michelle, Jennifer, Jenny, Jen, LOLA SLOE THE FORTH, Sarah, Sara, on.+ ++

+I need about a million, I think, and I don't have all damned night after all. I have homework and that kind of things, I guess.

++All names a girl names (AND SOME OF THEM VERY COOL ONES MIGHT I ADD), because ants are strong and girls are strong and DO NOT listen to what anyone else has to say about it, because ants can lift like, three times their own body weight AND THEY ARE ANTS and women can kind of do that, too, in the bigger picture of life.

Mar 7, 1965


2. Patrick, stupid stupid Patrick, thought it might be FUN to do something called "Put bacon in Lola Sloe's ice cream cone at lunch time." And soooooomeone (not pointing any fingers, but it's ME) realized TOO LATE and ate that nasty bacon and then felt disgusted. And so I said, what the hell, Patrick, are you stupid with a death wish? And he said, HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW. And so then I dumped my ice cream, dead pig and all, on his stupid fat head. And then he tattled. And so I got detention for two weeks. So I think maybe if I kick him in the knees, I'd only at least get a week more, which is SO WORTH IT.

3. Restart vegetarian year count? Maybe. But I mean hey, if someone sneaks it, does that mean you cheated? I don't think so. So this is either month 39 Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Patrick.

4. CATCH UP ON DUMB TRANSFIG. HOMEWORK. Semi-New Years resolution FAILED. BUT SERIOUSLY. I think it's so useless. I will say it time and time again, just paint the damn walls. Go buy a soft blanket. Mr. Flemming said But Lola, what if you wanted a sharp blanket? And so I said, That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard, who wants that? But I guess I still need to do my homework, or I'll get even MORE detentions. Geeze.

5. Scratch that. Read ahead in Charms. I owe Patrick a good hex, I think, and there's one I was eyeing two sections ahead. No time like the present, and all that!

6. ...Attempt to recapture escaped ants++ from empty ant farm, whoops. Only Lola Jr. is left. At least she knows how to behave? The same can't be said for Lola Jr. Jr. OR Lola the Forth, sadly.

++Two casualties so far. Dad saw them on the table over some home made chicken soup (YUM YUM THANKS DAD), and squished them. I was a little sad, but I didn't want him to know that they were MY ants...because he doesn't actually know I have any, whoops.

Mar 21, 1965


Which was. In order.

1. EAT CAKE FOR BREAKFAST. Best Sloe tradition ever? I think so. And Dad always makes the best cakes, I think, and today I got my favorite, which is chocolate cake with strawberry icing and with sparkly candles on top. 13 of them!

2. GO TO THE BEACH. Me and Dad and even Hank all rode our bikes down to the beach and played around in the sand and I made a birthday cake sand castle with shells for sparkle candles. And then we stayed all day, and had lunch from the soda stand and I got a peanut butter milkshake, too, and it was very very YUM. And then we went home, all sandy and wet so

3. I TOOK A BATH. And then!

4. I COOKED DINNER. Because Dad, I am sure, gets tired of it and I really, really wanted some good spaghetti the way I make it with NO meat balls and LOTS LOTS LOTS of sauce. And then it was the best time of all,


-A broom of my own!, from Hank. It's like his. We match. Now, I think, I won't have to take his all the damned time.

-FROM DAD: A broom care kit, a new basket for the front of my bike that matches the paint AND had a vase for flowers on it, a new set of luggage (whatthehell, Dad, geeeze), and...a very fancy pants ant farm. GUILTY AS CHARGED. I don't think I'll even tell him about the other ant farm. Since, you know, my little ant babies are still off in Somewhereinthehouse.

6. ATE MORE CAKE. Over all, I think it was a pretty productive birthday, even if my nose DID get sunburned a little, and got two mosquito bites on my foot.

Mar 30, 1965


++Ok, so, there's actually BEEN a war on, for like, a while now, I guess, but actually it's not EVEN a war, Dad says, because the Muggle Congress didn't like, declare it? Which sounds pretty stupid to me, if you think about it, because how can you FIGHT someone without, you know, really saying HEY, I am going to fight you now! Dad says it's something the Muggle government does, usually, that declaring stuff, and that this one is...well, weird, I guess. Funny. But he also says it's a bad one, and that HE doesn't support it, even though he's a wizard because, he said, Lola, we're different but we're all human and boys will die over there and it's not worth it. And so he said, Lola, what do you think about that? And so then I thought about it, and because, you know, he's been following it at the school with his students and stuff and talks about it at dinner a lot, I thought well, that doesn't make much sense at all. Because I mean. I guess on the surface, it all made sense. Why we're sticking our noses in, and all. But then I think...what if HANK had to go over there? Because Dad says that there's no official cooperation between the Magical and Muggle worlds on all this stuff because it's "not an official thing" or something, so there's no reason that Uncle Sam couldn't make Hank go over there, or that if Hank wanted to, or whatever. And so then I thought what Hank might look like over there, all dressed up in green and tan and with a helmet and a gun and I thought NO WAY. And then I thought...I mean, if HE died over there. So I thought again NO WAY. And so I said to dad, Dad, that's what I think, too. And he said he was proud. And I think I am more a little afraid than proud. Because when people are doing things that are wrong, and when a country does something that is wrong, especially, there's no room for being proud. And also, I think Hank would look very sad with short hair all buzzed off like they show on the TV. And I don't think I want that at all.

April 13, 1965

1. Recapture new ant farm ants, who I didn't even bother to stinkin' NAME because I knew they'd run off on me like all the rest of them did. I think I kind of fail as an ant mommy. Maybe I should move on to something else. Like, perhaps, those sea monkey things that Susan, the little Muggle girl down the way there, is so nuts about. But I went over one time when she first got them, and she was all OOOOH LOOK AT MY SEA MONKIES. And all I saw was some stuff that looked like spit swimming around in a jar. Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Or in this case, spit.

2. Since that one time we talked about it, Dad's been talking to me and Hank a lot about the """WAR""" and you know, other stuff. Like how in the South there's Civil Rights going on. And how in even here in San Fran, some boys get beat up just because they like other boys. And how it's all so unjust and how he feels almost guilty, like, not being able to do much more than to go to protests and hold up signs and all that stuff. And so I said, Dad, that's still pretty good, though, I mean, isn't that how stuff CHANGES? I mean, you just stand up and you say THIS IS NOT RIGHT and then someone, eventually, sees it and believes you and then it gets FIXED, finally. And Hank said, Lola, you better not get on to Mr. Flemming about that again, he can't help it he's a boring old Transfiguration teacher. And then I said, HANK, be serious for a damned minute, the grown ups are talking. And then Dad laughed and said I was right (IMAGINE THAT!!), but that some times it took even more than just standing up. Sometimes, he said, you have to stand up and walk out. I didn't get it, so I shut up and ate my peas.

3. Ask Dad to buy some more peas like these kind, because man, were they good OR WHAT?!?!

4. Make some arm bands. Because, you know, I'm not quite old enough to do all the stuff that Dad does, but I think that maybe if I made a black arm band and wore it like Dad does that maybe that'll be something good, and then if anyone asks I can tell them about it and them maybe give them an arm band, too, and then pretty soon everyone at Valle del Sol will be like, aware. And we'll all be taking a right stand. And all that.

April 21, 1965

1. Susan shared some sea monkies with me, and accidentally, Hank's dog drank them. Poor things. And poor dog. They couldn't have tasted good. Maybe like sand. I think I should thank Susan anyway, but maybe I shouldn't tell her about their untimely end. Maybe.


3. Pull up Transfig grades before then, because if I bring home another C, for the love of God, Dad's going to ground me for a week. And I can't be grounded for the first week of summer, because that's when all the good stuff happens, and Mary said she'd throw a party or do a camping trip or something. So I GUESS I can at least pay a little attention to stupid Mr. Flemming. And I GUESS I could just, you know. Make a sharp blanket, or something else stupid like that.

4. Get Hank a graduation present! Older, only brothers don't graduate every day, after all, and it still really looks like the Lores are after him. Maybe I could get him something about that? Like a "WELCOME TO THE LORES" package or something. OR. I can get me and Dad season tickets to their games? So he knows we support him and all. Or maybe a kitten. Although a kitten might not get along well with his dog. But I am sure they can learn to play nice, and maybe even be best friends. Or maybe I could get him an ant farm, and see how he does with and so maybe I don't feel so bad about Lola Sloe Jr. Jr. and company.

5. Go in to town and see about maybe getting something that isn't an ant farm, really.

May 1, 1965

1. COUNTDOWN: Only three more weeks!!!!

2. Camping trip is on with Susan. IF, Dad says, I don't get poor grades in Transfig. I think at this point and all you know that Mr. Flemming is just gunning for a reason to fail me, because EVEN THOUGH I STUDIED for our last practical, I FAILED. I mean, is it really MY fault though that the wall I was working on didn't want to be greenandyellow spots? The wall HERE in my room was fine with going poladotted. It stayed that way mostly all night, because I think I was a little too INTENSE with my practice.

3. Note to self: Never paint the walls greenandyellow spots. It's very hard to sleep with it like that and all.

May 24, 1965


  • I just got all my grades owled to me and GUESS WHAT. I PASSED STUPID TRANSFIGURATION, HA HA. I mean, with a B and all, but Dad says that's better than what I did have and that mostly he's pretty proud that I buckled down and studied something for once. And so I said, Dad, I got an A+ on Charms, doesn't that mean anything at all to you, geeze? But he said it was different, because I had to work for it to do the right thing. But at least I get to go camping with Susan, and even Mary is coming and it'll be a GRAND OLD TIME. I guess I should pack, really, for that, since we're leaving in the morning and I need to wash my bike before we go, too, and should fill up my backpack with a few sodas.

June 2, 1965



2. Girls do not know how to pitch a tent. Or start a fire. Or cook over a fire they can't start. Or, you know. Open a sleeping bag, or even roast a damned marshmallow.

3. They squash spiders.

So I had to pitch the tent, and start the fire, and cook over the fire, and tuck those little kids in to bed and everything. And I was on spider squishing detail, which made me sad, so I buried them all in little spider graves with little pebbles for gravestones. It was really very sad, but after a week out there by the beach I almost ran out of pebbles and space.

Clearly, I am not a girl? Or maybe, you know, not a sissy. Whatever!!!

July 4, 1965.

1. I have been buuuuuussssyyy!

2. Here are some things that are summery that I have been busy doing:

++Riding my bike to the beach a lot with Hank, because HE GOT SIGNED TO THE LORES (WOO HOOOO!) and will be leaving very soon to go train and be the best. Which is neat, really. But I'll miss him, so we've been going to the beach and getting, like Hank says, Brown as a Biscuit. Really, he's also been a lot nicer, too, suddenly. I think because he's about to go away, and he'll be really busy and miss me, so he hasn't bothered being a pain in my butt and giving my damned bike flat tires and sassing me all the damned time.

+++Teaching Susan how to pitch a damned tent, because, I said, Susan, any self respecting woman knows how to pitch a tent and I'm not helping that much next time we go camping.

++++Being probably lame and studying up on Charms, which Hank does give me hell for but that's ok, it's Hank. Dad's pretty excited, though, and says I am growing up lovely. And I think that's dumb, because it's just fun, but what's a girl to do?

+++++Finding some more ants, still, in my bedroom and putting them back into the old ant farm.

++++++Skipping writing in my book of lists because there are A LOT of things to do now that I don't have dumb homework and stupid Mr. Flemming to worry about. But I almost kind of miss stupid Mr. Flemming, because he adds some ""SPICE to life,"" as I like to say. I mean, if I can't give him a little bit of hell now and then...but I mean, getting icecream with Mary is kind of like that, because we still talk about the good old times with Mr. Flemming and make new plans for PRANKS. We're thinking about putting Snap-and-Pops under the legs of his chair so that when he sits down they'll POP. And then we can blame it on some transfiguration, or something. I mean, we're still thinking about it but I think it's PRETTY COOL.

3. Tonight if Fourth of July night, and there's going to be fireworks down at the beach like always and that's pretty neat. But what's even neater? Me and Hank and Dad are all going to go down to the University and PROTEST. Like, a real live protest with all Dad's friends and stuff. And I made a t-shirt and painted it up with a big PEACE SIGN and it says "wage PEACE" on it. Because, Dad says, it's important because things are getting even worse out there in the big blue world, and that a Patriot would rather take a right stand then watch some fireworks, because what do fireworks even stand for when this INJUSTICE is going on? And so I said, "YOU'RE DAMNED RIGHT." And so I am really very excited.

4. But I would still like to see fireworks, is all I'm saying.

July 29, 1965 1. Suddenly, everything has changed.

August 12, 1965

1. I do not live in America any more, let alone San Fransisco.

2. I do live in LIVERPOOL with Aunt Cathrine.

3. Georgia lives down the street, at least, which is nice.

4. Hank and Dad are here, too.

5. I have things to move around. And too much to list. And I think I'm going to take a nap instead.

August 23, 1965

So here's the skinny on all of it, I guess.

1. Hank got drafted, which means that he was supposed to go fight because he got a card that said so. And then a few things happened:

+Dad swore a lot, which he never does, and told us we had a night to pack boxes and to get to it and he was going to make a Floo out but he'd be right back and stay put.

++We packed boxes, because neither me or Hank had ever seen Dad look so damned BIG.

+++Dad came back and said we were leaving.

2. We left.

3. We're not going back.

4. I guess Liverpool is now my home, even though it has a pretty stupid name. I have a room here, and Aunt Cathrine is really nice and says she'd do just what we did, and her little Hank wouldn't go off and die for some dumb damned American conflict, and she's always got tea and "BISCUITS" which actually means cookies, which I think is pretty stupid if you ask me. And Gee does live down the street, and she's pretty much neat about everything and seems interested in just about everything. But I still feel kind of dizzy about all this mess.

5. Gee is also handy because now I have to go to some Hogwarts school, which is a boarding school, which is dumb. And we have to wear uniforms, and they have houses, and all that mess, but Gee said they have pretty good Quidditch and that they even have a top secret smoking club. I'm a little scared about this one. Gee says it'll be fine, and a grand old time.

6. We had to leave Hank's dog at home, and I'm really sad about him, even if sometimes he pooped in my shoes.

7. I still don't really understand all of this. I think we did the right thing, and that's what Dad said at dinner, but I told him I really miss Susan and I didn't even get to say goodbye. And he said at least we didn't have to say goodbye to Hank. And I shut up and ate my peas.

8. How stupid, to send people those dumb damn cards. Who ever thought a piece of paper could do so much?

August 31, 1965 1. Off we go, into the wild blue yonder.