Once upon a midnight clearly...

Have you ever wanted something for so long that you eventually became accustomed to it, and you set it aside because you thought it was impossible, but it was always sort of still there, and then finally there comes the day when someone who knows you better than you know yourself figures out what it is goes above and beyond the call of duty to give it to you?

I love this man so much I can't bloody stand it.

Hogwarts is currently an insane asylum. My lessons today were hopeless, so much so that I cancelled the final werewolf lecture and assigned the sixth-years some reading that was, of course, completely ignored. I've lost count of the number of silvergreenbluewhite rosettesbuttonsbannerspennants I have consfiscated today. On the way to dinner I passed what seemed to be a sort of Ravenclaw pep rally under the stairs (though then the stairs changed, and they were no longer under the stairs but under the wedding tackle of the statue of Ecklebuck the Endowed, and yet somehow it seemed oddly appropriate). I even had to give detention to a Hufflepuff with aspirations of becoming a booking agent. According to Severus, this is all very reminiscent of the hysteria surrounding that Tri-Wizard Tournament fiasco a couple of years ago. Sirius agrees, "though," he adds, "it's a lot more sparkly."

However I am now safely ensconsed away from the madness, comfortable in my chair with a cup of tea and the Prophet crossword - though half is already done, in pen, and you will pay. I shall pretend that my students are all sane, and that after this weekend everything will be back to norm- a lot closer to nor- Bugger.

Finally, my owl just delivered me this. How charming - someone's got a lot of talent for this sort of thing. I am pleased.

Right, am being told to go to bed. Goodnight, all.