Number of Essays Marked: 52, Number of "A"s given out: 0, Number of Essays that Actually Have To Do with the Subject Assigned: 37, Times Draco Malfoy Came Looking for Advice: 4, Points Taken from Gryffindor: 2, Points Taken from Slytherin: 25 (a sad day for the family Snape), Alcohol Units Consumed: 14
Noon
I don't know if it is just me, but it seems as though, lately, students are going out of their way to make being a professor a very difficult task. Before, I could just stand there and I could feel the willingness to crumble into ash and blow away flowing through their veins. Now, however, I can hear whispers when I turn my back to the classroom, and even my patented Stare of Death cannot put a stop to them. They just giggle. Am I going soft? No, no, I couldn't be. It's unthinkable.
I think it's time to get back into serious punishment. Filch had a good idea in putting chains and cuffs on his ceiling, though I don't really know if they were originally meant to serve the purpose that he says they were for. But perhaps hanging Colin Creevy by his ears in my classroom would teach him to stop being so bloody stupid.
His current essay in my class actually impressed me, I'm sorry to say. He didn't even pretend to know the subject of what he was supposed to be writing about and instead started with an exposition on the wonders of his name.
My name is Colin Creevy. If you play with my first name a bit and make different sounds with it, it sounds like a punctuation mark - the full stop with the comma under it. It also sounds like a body part, I think. Nothing dirty though, just this thing that probably does nothing but explode like appendixes do. My brother's appendix ruptured when he was little, but I don't think he remembers it. It was bloody brill though, the way he was puking and pale and everything…
He continued to go on to explain the demise of his very unfortunate cat. This was actually an improvement upon his last essay, entitled "The Uses of Nail Polish in Attacking the French" (I clearly said "The Uses of Manglomesh in Aiding the Fever), which had atrocious spelling and very unrealistic beliefs of what nail polish can do. For this noted improvement (and a slight less annoyed feeling than I had with his last essay, since he didn't pretend to know what he was talking about), I awarded him with an "F plus".
Oh, Merlin's backside, I am going soft.
I have some anger to take out on a particularly lethal house elf. Will be back soon.
5:18pm
Draco decided that he needed to interrupt my peaceful time of self-reflection and ask for some "much-needed" advice. I have no clue how he found my room, nor why he felt the need to request the love of the dog sitting in a portrait just outside my chambers. I can only believe that Lucius did not do a satisfactory job in raising his boy.
I don't know why I ever installed that bell. I think I was young and hopeful at the time, but it quickly became clear that rarely would people come looking for me. And when they did, odds are that I wouldn't want to see them.
"Hey, Severus," Draco said breathlessly as the portrait guarding my entrance moved aside.
"My name is Professor Snape, Mr Malfoy," I answered, crossing my arms and leaning against my doorway. "And if you wish for me to talk to you for whatever reason you came to my room, you had better address me as so."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he answered with a dismissive hand. "Well, I came to ask you a question."
"Out with it," I said, readying to shut the portal in his face. "And I'd like you to know that I'm marking your paper right now, so if you insist on bothering me, I will be sure to grade you extremely, extremely unfairly."
He broke out into a misunderstanding smile. "Why thanks, Uncle Sev." Good Merlin, it was getting worse. "Well the thing is this…I think I want to marry that mudblood, Granger."
I believe that I became very pale. He mistook this for anger.
"Yes, I know, she's an ugly, stupid thing with too much hair and bastard friends, but she's really quite intriguing. The chit knows how to slap, too. And her stubbornness is a turn-on, really."
I could only lift my eyebrow, now that the shock had worn over, I was confident that Granger couldn't stand more than a minute of his time. But he rattled on anyway, as if he had already planned their wedding (which I later found out he had. Approximately 100-120 guests, including "Father's friends", held at the Malfoy Manor with a reception following in the gardens, married by his father (I shudder to think that that man can officiate), and a hundred white doves released in time with their first kiss as husband and wife).
"I know what you're thinking," he said finally, appearing to be drawing to a close. "Dad's not going to be happy with this. But I think that once he gets a good look at her and I tell him that her parents are former international Death Eaters that have to live as Muggles because they're in hiding from the Ministry…"
"But-"
"Is it just me, Uncle Sev, or does she have child-bearing hips?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I just closed the door.
Will have to take out that bell tomorrow.
March 28th Monday
Must stop teaching classes when I'm drunk. Am afraid that I let some rather unsatisfactory things slip during 7th year Potions.
I believe one of the things that I said involved Viagra. I truly hope it wasn't directed toward Miss Granger.
A/N: Sorry that it took so long to get this up. Final exams are coming up and I've been swamped by essays and the like. I'd say that I'd update soon next time, but unfortunately I can't make any promises.
The pet name "Uncle Sev" is a trademark of Draco in Hayseed's "Switzerland" trilogy. Check them out, they're much funnier than my stuff.
Thanks to: SevenAgainstThebes , crazley, Joshua Glass, the beloved long lived stranger who protects from and commands the elements...Aimee (hmm...it might be too late for that. Maybe in the next diaries?), Aindel S. Druida, pickles87, Zephyre, Mr Padfoot1, DesolateAznVamp, DragonMasterKris Jho, and all those whose reviews didn't show up because ff.net spazzed.