Dumbledore snored loudly in his office, and it was beginning to annoy McGonagall who sat at his desk rifling through stacks of papers. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, she was extremely tired but she knew she had to get this done, it had been put off for… well, too long was an understatement indeed. Suddenly Dumbledore woke with a start, "Ah Minerva." He mumbled sleepily, "What are you doing up at this hour?". "Still doing the paperwork from when I started yesterday Albus." She said coldly. She knew she shouldn't get mad, but she was so tired. "So many children," She mumbled, "Some of them are already sixteen years old!". "Ah well," Dumbledore muttered, "two years of education is better than none." McGonagall murmured something inaudible, so Dumbledore yawned and then continued, "How many are left?". "Only a few." She replied fingering the dwindling pile of scrolls, "Five to be exact, and all in the same year.". "Good, good." Dumbledore replied sleepily, eyes beginning to droop again. McGonagall skimmed over the last student profiles, her face getting more and more grim with each one she read, especially when she reached the last. "Albus-" She started, glancing up at the portrait, but he was already asleep.