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Professor Minerva McGonagall

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I never have the time to update this. [Oct. 14th, 2003|11:04 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |anxiousanxious]

The first years this year are catching on quicker than usual, though I had one of them somehow manage to turn his partner's hair pink and she screamed and yelled for a full fifteen minutes before she allowed me to change it back. I've also noticed that one spare quill always somehow ends up on my desk every Wednesday after my last class. If anyone knows of a fourth year Ravenclaw who has been complaining about losing quills, please tell him/her to come see me.

In other news, my youngest sister recently Owled me and informed me that her youngest child is a Squib. She has yet to inform mother, who I'm certain will do anything she can possibly do in her power to pretend the child never existed in the first place, and she wants to know if I can help. Why she imagines I would be the family expert on relations with mother when I'm the one she detests the most completely eludes me, but I offered her my help. It will unsettle a good many in my family, I am certain; McGonagalls aren't supposed to have Squib children. I can't imagine how the girl is feeling.

Albus, you never replied to my last message to you, and now Peeves has struck again. We must have a talk.

Lastly, a Happy Belated Birthday to Alastor Moody.

-Professor M. McGonagall
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(no subject) [Sep. 2nd, 2003|07:11 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |annoyedannoyed]

September second is always a nightmare for any of the Hogwarts staff, but this year the third years seem to have outdone themselves. As all of you very well know, every year I start off by showing the third years one of the higher uses of Transfiguration – turning into a tabby cat and back. This year, however, upon doing so, one of the third-year Hufflepuffs (a great cat love and extremely emotional, I later found out) burst into tears and I spent the next twenty minutes attempting to console her before sending her up to the Hospital Wing. The other third-years thought this was very funny, and one of the Slytherins proceeded to “inform” me that he was surprised that the girl was more frightened by the cat than me. You can imagine my reaction.

I am dreading running into Severus, whom I am certain has already heard all of the details of the incident in full.

As it is, I now have to go and grade my seventh year’s quizzes.

-Professor M. McGonagall
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A few things that have been weighing down my mind all day. [Aug. 30th, 2003|09:38 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |coldcold]

For the life of me I can't understand why everyone suddenly feels it is necessary to be in a relationship with some one. It is possible to achieve happiness without it being dependant upon another.

But I must digress, because I am truly happy for Poppy. She has finally found true love at last, and that is hard to come by. She is floating on air, she is so happy. You can see it in her eyes.

I'm beginning to get very cold, and I have yet another headache. I already fear that this school year might be worse than some others. In fact, I know it will be, and the thought doesn't thrill me, to say the least.

I also have the nagging feeling that I am being kept in the dark by some people, and I don't appreciate that either. But there is nothing I can do about it, as I am not certain, so I will ignore it for now.

My room smells like smoke for no apparent reason, which is rather suspicious. I shall have to ask Dobby if he knows the reason.

-Professor M. McGonagall
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I believe I have everything planned. [Aug. 29th, 2003|10:27 am]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |aggravatedaggravated]
[Current Music |The Verve - 'Bittersweet Symphony']

And so I am all set. The other Professors are returning. The mood in the air is almost tangible; a slight excitement mixed with apprehension. It's a feeling I have never grown used to in all of these forty years. I never expect I will anymore.

My mother Owled me again, spending the entire Owl talking about how lovely each of my sisters are and how awful it must be to stand myself up against them. I am forced to wonder how on Earth she ever got that notion...

The worst part is how little she knows of each of us. Anne's husband is a drunk who disappears to God knows where from time to time, while Lana feels trapped in a world of oppression for reasons I have yet to understand. But mother ignores that. She would. I've tried to help them but they refuse any help I would give. They still hold on to this insane notion that what they are going through is normal for any married couple, that both of them should be happy... that somehow they're the cause of the problem.

Human beings always find ludicrous ways of fooling themselves into believing that something that isn't there is, and I've never understood why.

One thing that bothers me, though, is that even the Professors have succumbed to arguing over things publicly. If we can't keep ourselves in order, how on Earth are we supposed to keep our children together?

Sincerely,
-Professor M. McGonagall
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Simply put... [Aug. 22nd, 2003|11:20 am]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |crankycranky]

I hate this day, and everything associated with it.

Thank you.

-Professor M. McGonagall
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Unimportant announcement. [Aug. 6th, 2003|10:52 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |exhaustedexhausted]

The worst part about teaching...

Is dealing with the hormones.

Yours,
-Professor M. McGonagall
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In an hour, they will be here. [Jul. 27th, 2003|04:45 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |anxiousanxious]
[Current Music |Joan Armatrading - The Weakness In Me]

And my life will have meaning again.

Everyone's returned, but still, the halls always seem unusually quiet ithout the students here. I, of course, have all of my lessons plans finished - finally - and the last hour is merely spent waiting.

Waiting always seems so endless.
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Scotland is driving me absolutely bloody mad. [Jul. 19th, 2003|05:04 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |bitchybitchy]
[Current Music |Bagpipes. Over. And over. And over again.]

It appears that things haven't changed much. 11-17 year olds I can manage. Toddlers and crying babies are beyond me.

Forty years ago, I left to become a Professor, my dream, and, as a double motive, to get away from all of the crying children of my sisters and brothers, and the prying eyes of my mother. I come back now, and all of their crying children have grown up and have crying children of their own.

I can not stand it.

It's awful! And every single one of them - especially my mother, whom I've discovered hasn't changed - is constantly nagging me.

"Oh, Minerva, it's so sad that you haven't settled down yet."
"You were the eldest, you should have been married first!"
"Really, I do think you would have made a great mother!"

......

And so forth.

If I ever become one of those old women who sit around and knit while gossiping about everyone around me and talking about "the good ol' days", please, some one, kill me. Throw me off of the Astronomy Tower. Anything.

As it is, everyday I sit around I become more and more anxious about how Albus and Severus are holding up at Hogwarts, and I worry more and more about all of the work there is to be done when I get back.

On top of my family, it's all driving me mad. And the 13-year-old has just started bagpipe lessons. She can't play. She can't play at all.

My God, I sound like Severus!

That's it, I'm leaving. I'm going to Russia. I've always wanted to go to Russia. Anything to escape this place.

If you want to contact me, send your Owl to Moscow.

Thank you.

-Minerva
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I can't believe it. [Jul. 13th, 2003|12:33 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |aggravatedaggravated]

You were right, Severus, Albus does know all.

In fact, he told me that he was going to send all of my work to the other Staff and himself and was going to bore me until I left. So I finally relented.

I cannot believe that he forced me to take a vacation. But as it is, I suppose it's for the best. I'll be going to Scotland to visit the family for the next two weeks (against my will). If you need to Owl me, send it there.

I leave tomorrow. Don't you dare call me a hypocrite, Severus, this isn't my choice.

-Professor M. McGonagall
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Does my work ever end? [Jul. 12th, 2003|05:37 pm]
Professor Minerva McGonagall
[Current Mood |exhaustedexhausted]
[Current Music |Do you think I have time to listen to music?]

Most of the staff is gone on Holidays, to Egypt, or France, or some other exotic location, enjoying themselves. Not that I don't love Hogwarts, and in truth I can't see myself anywhere but here, but it would be so much better if things didn't some how always go wrong no matter what I do.

For instance, how on Earth do half of the owls I sent out suddenly get sick mid-flight? Honestly, it took me hours to write up all of those results, and now it appears that I shall have to re-write them over again!

To add to it, I've been receiving multiple letters from parents and students all asking where their results are, and it's driving me mad! I'm not withholding them to see you suffer, so please stop acting like it!

On top of that, Severus has not been pleasant lately. Upon entering the staff room yesterday, he looked up at me and immediately groaned about 'The Feline.' This, of course, did not sit well with me, and an argument followed. And he had the gall to say that he 'won' when in truth neither of us 'won'! I swear, I can't stand that man sometimes. And despite the nice weather, he still spends the entire day down in the dungeons concocting Potion after Potion, never mind that Albus and I are worried about him...

The Ministry have been consistently owling Albus and I nearly every day about one problem or another. It seems that at least four times a week we have to go down there to go to a meeting or sort out one thing or another. They seem to have forgotten that our sole concern is with this school and our students.

Summer vacation was created so that teachers and students wouldn't have to work as hard as they do during the school-year, if at all. So why is it that it seems like I have more work to do, rather than less?
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