Dear Damnable Diary,
One more day, one more day. I feel as giddy as some of the dunderheads are about their upcoming Christmas holidays... and it's only October. It is odd, I admit... to have something in my life that I am looking forward to for a change, even if I am only looking forward to this moment so I can exact my revenge. It was hard to be excited about Death Eater meetings when one knew the chance they were going to be "crucio'd" would be about 20/80. Twenty being the likelihood of one not writhing in pain in front of your peers. And since Voldemort's regime is over there is nothing in my life. Staff meetings of course, but those are all business and most definitely not fun, except for that one we have at the end of the year where McGonagall always gets drunk and staggers around like a bloody idiot. That woman cannot hold her alcohol. I find that the only thing that is fun for me anymore is taking house points from the Gryffindors, although even that task is losing its appeal.
Ah, well, today was seventh year Potions class again. The lack of skill that these students have acquired is staggering. Seven years of education and they cannot properly identify potion ingredients by scent! Well, all except for Miss Granger, who, as I'm sure you remember, is an unbearable know-it-all. She even identified sopohorous, which I had anticipated to stump her with. Damn chit.
Dumbledore has been out of the country for the past two days. When asked he would not tell me where he was going, except to say "on holiday". Bloody bastard is probably spending his days on a beach in the south of France relaxing while I have to deal with these incompetent students. Plus he left McGonagall in charge again, allowing Potter and his little trio to get away with bloody murder. She's had a soft spot for them for as long as I can remember.
Well, I suppose I should check on my potion. The last 24 hours of its brewing requires constant attention to ensure it doesn't over boil. I will likely be up all night.
Severus Snape