| scotchtartan @ 2002-08-31 19:43:00 |
The Animagus Practicum is progressing.
Several students have shown glimmers of talent- surprisingly, nearly as many as who have not. All in all, we have a good crop of potentials, though I'm not sure they quite understand the effort and sacrifice required in pursuing Animagism. I suppose, like a contract, most do find it far too difficult and dull to read the fine print, as it were.
Our session was lovely through Professor Lupin's inspired chapter on Advanced Care of Magical Creatures. Really, the man does have the most singular understanding of the emotional and psychological effects of non-human form. The ability to articulate such lessons as so to bring a better understanding to the students, though, qualifies him as a treasure. MFS, again, you think? Hardly. The goodwill created by his lecture was counteracted by his morose demeanour. I counted no less than four Meaningful Headshakes and a scandalous twelve Glances of Annoyed Concern, all directed at Professor Black. Though I certainly do not take part in the gossipmongering afoot at our institution, one cannot escape the portraits discussing the state of dalliances best kept behind Security Spells. In any case, Professor Lupin slunk out of the classroom immediately following his lecture. Pity, he missed what I consider the best part of the session.
Professor Black made a good enough effort at delivering his Advanced Defense review- the students were quite transfixed the entire lecture. I think he rather frightenend some of the more cocky members of our number, which pleases me. One should never understate the danger of Altered States. During a Childish Display of Temper (apparently directed at Professor Snape, and honestly, I did let the first two slide), however, he managed to ruin three sticks of chalk. Nothing annoys me as greatly as the thoughtless waste of supplies, and it shames me to admit I Transfigured my wand into a yardstick and delivered a swat to his backside. Professor Black assumed his canine form and actually growled at me; a silly intimidation attempt, I assure you. I immediately transformed, after which we had a lovely row on the carpets, ending up with a satisfying round of grooming. I was quite embarrassed, though the episode did show the students the dangers of losing track of one's human side when transformed. It does tend to get quite away from one.
On balance, this session has left me disappointed with some on our teaching staff, who shall remain on my Do Not Owl list for a period not to exceed fifty-two hours. At that time I shall review their status and determine if stronger action is warranted.
Mrs. Norris has just told me a tale of faun droppings in the Forbidden Forest that merits investigation. I shall have to remember to leave the bell off my collar tonight.
Comments:
| sibyllsays @ 2002-08-31 06:59 pm UTC |
Professor McGonagall,
I must warn you that this seemingly innocent investigation of faun droppings can and will result in Death Most Unfortunate! I would highly advise that you enjoy a night indoors. I could send over some catnip for you. Please heed my warning.
~S.T.
| scotchtartan @ 2002-09-01 10:35 am UTC |
Professor Trelawney, it is with utmost regret that I inform you I remain quite fine this morning, even after investigating the apparent faun infestation of the Forbidden Forest. Poor Mrs. Norris, she's so old now she cannot tell the difference between faun droppings or centaur at twenty yards.
Rest assured, the Forbidden Forest remains faun-free.
~M.McGonagall
| onourbrooms @ 2002-09-01 05:16 pm UTC |
Minerva, do you really have nothing better to do (in between exploring the fascinating aspects of excrement and making lists of persons not to owl) than count the number of times Remus *looks* at someone? Honestly, you need a hobby.
| scotchtartan @ 2002-09-01 09:21 pm UTC |
When one undertakes a life's work as important as molding young minds, it leaves precious little time for hobbies as such. Were you more dedicated to the prime objective, as it were, we would not be treated to your apparent hobby of sniffing for insult-fodder.
Really, Mistress Hooch, you might want to check the nametags in your knickers. I very nearly mistook you for Professor Sinistra.
~M.McGonagall