1st September - Day begins well, with peaceful morning in rooms. Ask Hermione to Hear the Speech, which she does with commendable, and unusual, lack of argument; afterwards she remarks, somewhat inexplicably, that the Speech has always Turned her On.
Entirely pleasant interlude ensues, despite initial reluctance on my part - 11am surely very odd hour for such activities? - but eventually am forced to admit that dear Hermione can be most persuasive when she wishes.
Emerge from rooms in much improved frame of mind, and instantly fall headlong over minuscule specimen of childhood, wearing very large, and very new, robes. Am unable to contain entirely unintentional "Oh Hell"; do, however, manage to add "-p" on seeing disapproving looks from both Hermione and Minerva, who stands behind child with arms firmly folded. Am fully aware that neither is convinced and, furthermore, that child is listening with look of unholy Glee. Should be prepared to bet that child will be Sorted into Gryffindor. (Bet proves redundant when child is revealed to be nephew of Minerva.)
Proceed to Great Hall for customary Welcome Feast and am, as always, appalled by sheer volume of noise produced by children, including those in upper years who should, in my opinion, Know Better.
Sorting ensues - can clearly hear midget McGonnagall nephew remark to new Housemates that he Heard a Teacher Swear, and Scowl at him, but he remains oblivious - Albus makes customary Welcome Speech - Forest Forbidden, also Duelling in Hallways, but Quidditch to continue; List of Banned Objects available for inspection in large suite of rooms devoted to that purpose; etc, etc. Drift into happy recollection of the day's more pleasant moments but am sharply recalled to myself by Albus' declaration that We must Congratulate Professors Granger and Snape on their recent Marriage.
Should very, very much like to be able to forget the next few minutes.
(Query: Would it be possible to brew a Potion, suitable for discreet inclusion in morning pumpkin-juice, to remind all present that being a War Hero does not make me a Nice Person?)
(Answer; undoubtedly, Yes, but am only too aware that the benefits of being a W. H. (continuing life, full use of all limbs, universal adulation, the Love of a Good Women, and no doubt many more) have made me become, if not Nice, then at least Tolerable; shall, however, pursue the idea, if only for the sake of learned article in Potions Today.)
Feast proceeds without further excitement and am much relieved when able to retire to quarters, remove shoes, which have been pinching, and go to bed in peace. Peace is broken by Hermione getting into bed with unbidden, and entirely untrue, remark that It's nice to have the Kids back, isn't it? Should very much like to respond to this with the contempt it deserves, but unfortunately am completely sodden with sleep.