September 4th - Wholly extraordinary turn of events, started by my being unable to avoid seat next to Sybil at Dinner, during which she talks incessantly without, apparently, drawing breath.
She says that I am looking Well, and that Married Life obviously Suits Me, and that I was set to become an Old Buffer until Hermione Took me In Hand.
I am stunned into silence at these remarks, and am entirely unable to reply, but she continues anyway.
Hermione is Blooming, positively Glowing, she claims, and then makes odd remark about approaching Happy Event. Can only assume that this is Sybil's obscure way of congratulating me on marriage. She then proceeds to talk about babies for duration of meal but I do not, naturally, pay any attention, although I am unable to avoid hearing comments on Pattering of Tiny Feet, and the Joy of New Life.
Return to rooms for enjoyable evening researching Memory-Adjustment Potions for proposed learned article - still no homework requiring attention, thankfully -and am pleased with progress, when I look up and observe that Hermione is knitting a Glove.
Glove turns out, on further inspection, to be infant-sized Cardigan.
Sybil's remarks return to me with full force, and I am entirely poleaxed. Can it be that Sybil has made another accurate prediction?
Prospect of impending Fatherhood is far from displeasing, and am, indeed, inclined to be extremely pleased indeed, but can only wish that Hermione had informed me of this development herself. Am somewhat hurt at this lack of consideration on her part - but naturally maintain discreet silence on subject, as she clearly wishes to introduce it In her Own Time - and retire to bed early in distinctly bad mood. Do not, however, sleep a wink all night.