Hang the moon.

I seem to have caught the cold that's going round. Every Hufflepuff I taught today was a sniffly, dribbly mess. Poppy offered up some Pepper-Up Potion, but I left it for the children. I'll get through this the old-fashioned way, with all the orange juice and chicken soup the house elves can manage. And a lot of tissues.

( Of Wolf and Man. )

I should go and get started on the owls I need to send - including one to Romania - and the rest of my research. I've a meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow, as well, about suitable venues for my lecture, and the matter of the harpy in the Forest. Not to mention I'm behind on marking these Niffler essays. So much to do, and all of it before Thursday. And me, with this blasted cold. Hang that damned moon!

There'll be no sleep tonight.