Like endless rain into a paper cup.

Hogwarts seems so quiet these days that at times I think I can hear the castle itself breathing. The school seems to be afflicted by a sort of ennui, and it has extended to the staff as well. The weather has become quite contrary, and even Severus's sneer doesn't have the same edge to it. Most disquieting.

Nothing of consequence to report this week, save for the sixth years' confrontation with the Snidget. While most everyone was properly respectful of the little creatures, more Quidditch-minded souls succumbed to the temptation to release their Snidgets and then chase them around the classroom. Had to hand out a few detentions for that, though I was impressed by the Seeker-skills displayed therein.

No Snidgets were harmed during the course of the lesson.

Charlie left on Sunday; I expected him to leave on Saturday but he stuck around until I transformed back in order to say a proper goodbye. Very nice of him. We've agreed to keep in touch, and I believe I will look into spending the Christmas holiday in Bucharest. I've always wanted to see the Arcul de Triumf.

And maybe I want to see that dragon-tamer, too.

'Tis Saturday, and so I am off to London for the weekend, despite the rain. Got to see a man about a Kelpie.