September 2nd
2 a.m.
Dear diary,
Another year at Hogwarts has just begun. Hooray.
The Marauders are back again, in 6th now, and I already am on the edge of a serious nervous breakdown. Hooray hooray.
Lucky me.
I wonder what this strange, light, somewhat funny feeling inside my head might be.
Oh, who am I trying to fool?
I am drunk. Yes, dear diary, I, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, am actually drunk.
It's all Rolanda's fault.
We had our annual start-of-the-year party, which is usually really boring- I mean, Albus who keeps on offering everybody sherbet lemons until someone starts to throw up.
Period.
May I please add that I have only once been the person who ended up with her head above the toilet in the Staff Room? Albus has never offered me a muggle candy afterwards. He has learned his lesson, I think. Well, who wouldn't. It is said my yelling was heard even in the Astronomy Tower. Which is a rumor, obviously, because nobody was in the Astronomy Tower at the time of speaking.
But I have to admit that Albus was kind of nice to me- he actually held my hair back while I was throwing up all his bloody muggle candies. I love Albus, by the way.
I yell at him, I boss him around but I love him.
Minerva logic- please don't ask.
Rolanda's a moron.
Albus's sherbet lemons are hell, okay, but Rolanda's punch was even worse.
Because it was good.
How could I have known it actually contained alcohol.
How could I have know it would make me actually drunk.
I am an idiot. A drunken idiot. A drunken idiot who was so drunk that a certain Headmaster had to help her to her rooms because she couldn't walk properly after five (five!) glasses of wonderful strawberry punch.
I hate myself.
I should actually take points from Gryffindor for this.
No, I shouldn't.
Goodnight.
2 a.m.
Dear diary,
Another year at Hogwarts has just begun. Hooray.
The Marauders are back again, in 6th now, and I already am on the edge of a serious nervous breakdown. Hooray hooray.
Lucky me.
I wonder what this strange, light, somewhat funny feeling inside my head might be.
Oh, who am I trying to fool?
I am drunk. Yes, dear diary, I, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, am actually drunk.
It's all Rolanda's fault.
We had our annual start-of-the-year party, which is usually really boring- I mean, Albus who keeps on offering everybody sherbet lemons until someone starts to throw up.
Period.
May I please add that I have only once been the person who ended up with her head above the toilet in the Staff Room? Albus has never offered me a muggle candy afterwards. He has learned his lesson, I think. Well, who wouldn't. It is said my yelling was heard even in the Astronomy Tower. Which is a rumor, obviously, because nobody was in the Astronomy Tower at the time of speaking.
But I have to admit that Albus was kind of nice to me- he actually held my hair back while I was throwing up all his bloody muggle candies. I love Albus, by the way.
I yell at him, I boss him around but I love him.
Minerva logic- please don't ask.
Rolanda's a moron.
Albus's sherbet lemons are hell, okay, but Rolanda's punch was even worse.
Because it was good.
How could I have known it actually contained alcohol.
How could I have know it would make me actually drunk.
I am an idiot. A drunken idiot. A drunken idiot who was so drunk that a certain Headmaster had to help her to her rooms because she couldn't walk properly after five (five!) glasses of wonderful strawberry punch.
I hate myself.
I should actually take points from Gryffindor for this.
No, I shouldn't.
Goodnight.