September 3rd - First-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws before lunch; Speech is customarily affecting, naturally, but Dramatic Pause now proved to be complete mistake due to incessant giggling of small girls, and impertinent enquiry from studious-looking specimen, of indeterminate gender, as to whether I have Forgotten the Words?
No, I have Not.
But find it very difficult to continue Speech, as studious child continues to gaze at me in apparent admiration with quill held ready, no doubt, to copy down my every word.
Leave class in unusually shattered state; mood is not improved when, on entering quarters in search of peace, I am instead confronted with Mrs Perzil, who has come to collect Laundry.
(Query: Why is it that House Elves, so eager to serve in every other way, should be unable to accept articles of clothing? Can only feel that this attitude displays a most uncommendable degree of laziness, as inability to handle clothes provides convenient escape from large portion of household chores. (Memo: Do not mention this to Hermione.) Surely equally excellent, and indeed extended, service could be provided if they were unable to accept, for example, furniture?)
(Answer: comes there none.)
Presence of Mrs Perzil is not conducive to peace, as she has unfortunate tendency to Gossip, and is much exercised at present moment over rumours of Werewolf activity at Shrieking Shack. Am fully aware, as is she, that this is merely Lupin displaying his more unnatural tendencies, but understandable reluctance to become involved leads me to maintain discreet silence.
She unfortunately interprets this as interest, and regales me with further tales of indiscretion, adultery, and the like. If even one tenth of what she tells me is true, should be very tempted to slip Sedative Potion into village water supply and have, in fact, started to list ingredients - Valerian, obviously, but perhaps also Hops? - when silence descends and I realise she has left.
Am very grateful.
Am less grateful to discover that returned clean laundry contains 13 odd socks, all black, but not one single pair, and proceed to lunch in very poor frame of mind indeed.
However, unfortunate incident after lunch results in visit to Hospital Wing for most of Gryffindor third-year, where Madam Pomfrey informs me that most of them shall remain speechless for several days; so day is not complete disaster.