September 8th 1940
1.25pm
I know I should be ruthlessly bashed for not bothering to write for a week. But you see, the teachers here have absolutely no mercy on us, and load us with homework even in the first week. Not that there is anything wrong with that, because of course, we should be fervently preparing for our OWLs from the very beginning, but seriously, can’t teachers here have a little pity on us and let us go scot-free in our first week? Apparently not. Even Professor Dumbledore loaded us with an essay a day, and he was supposed to have somewhat more empathy than the others. And talk of History of Magic! Professor Binns had us submit nearly three essays in a day. And, topping that, we have to submit four rolls of parchment filled with uses of Wolfsbane Potion by tomorrow! Oh, the injustice of it all!
But on the bright side, Hagrid has come back. Hagrid is a half-giant, which is a secret known only by me, Evelyn, Emma, Andy, Walter and himself. He was like one of our friends, except for the fact that it was pretty awkward to be strolling in corridors with your ‘friend’, who happened to be more than twice as big as you are, yet younger, and you kept having to look up to talk to him. But still, he was considered as the little brother we (Evelyn and I) never had. Though of course, our little ‘brother’ was almost thrice as huge as us.
Back to the bright side thing. Well, I had almost thought he would decide to stay at home because of all the misery and taunts he had to endure during his second year (which was last year). But I guess Evelyn and I successfully coaxed him during the summer holidays to come back. And come back he did!
The thing with his teasing is very sad. The head of all this was, of course, the Slytherin prefect Tom Riddle. Damn him, the supposed ‘god’ of Hogwarts. I mean, practically every girl in school was crazy about him, and every boy was in awe of him. All teachers (except old Dumbles. He never liked Tom. I could never understand that...) were prepared to practically lick his feet (talk about favouritism at its height!). Everyone other than us Gryffindors, that is. Even though most of us (excluding me) did find him irresistibly good-looking and unbelievably intelligent, there was something wrong about him. Very wrong. It was in the way he talked to people like Hagrid that I observed a mad glint in his eyes. It scared me beyond anything. His look was murderous when he taunted Hagrid of being ‘oversized’. It was not normal bullying. I sensed something far more dreadful in his tone. Far more deadly.
The mere idea makes me shudder.
But my friends lost no chance in teasing me, especially after I shared my ‘mad glint’ theory with them. Take this morning at breakfast, for example.
Breakfast is always the noisiest affair of the day with all the chatter of the. Or maybe coupled with the screeching of the mail owls, it just seems extra noisy to me. Who cares, anyway?
Well, I was seated with my usual group, of course, in the Great Hall. Evelyn and Hagrid were immersed in a serious debate whether spiders should be allowed as pets to school or not, while Emma was dreamily gazing at her untouched bacon, and Andy and I were discussing the Daily Prophet, which contained the news of Henry Kay on his latest book release, while Walter was practically dozing off due to lack of sleep (he keeps having these bad dreams...I suggested a dose of Hollister’s Potion but he was too scared to use it).
And then, Riddle, damn him, had to saunter in amiably, with that ‘mad glint’ lurking dangerously in his eyes. He walked right up to Hagrid. “Spiders?” he smirked in a silky voice. “Wouldn’t be too sure if I were you...they can turn...dangerous...”
Hagrid looked up, confused. I don’t mean to be mean (no pun intended), but unintelligent is an understatement for him. He was pretty slow at getting things.
However, Evelyn, who had her temper at her nose, flared up at once. “Shut up, Riddle! I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re an unregistered Animagus, a spider does suit you!” she retorted ferociously.
Riddle was apparently taken aback at this outburst. But he got over it in a blink of an eye, and his astonishment could only be visible to keen observers like me (no blowing my own trumpet there!), and replied in a smooth voice, “Of course, Brown. But you should of course know that I prefer to...abide...by the rules?”
And then, stupid me I lost my temper and retorted as menacingly as I could, “No one gives a hoot whether you do or not, Riddle! So why don’t you go back to the Slytherin table and bask in your own glory?”
There was a slightly stunned silence. I had never spoken up against someone before, let alone this rudely. Riddle narrowed his eyes at me. “McGonagall, eh? Getting pretty bold, I see. I’d be careful if I were you.” With that, he abruptly turned back and stalked coolly to the Slytherin table.
Andy stared after him, perplexed. “What did he mean by that?”
I shook my head fervently. “I don’t know and I don’t want to, either,” I said heatedly. Riddle was getting on my nerves quite often.
Evelyn giggled. “Oh, you do, I can tell.”
I stared at her angrily. There she went again, linking me up with that...cruel...boy. “No I don’t. We all hate him. He’s evil,” I replied flatly.
“Much more than evil, if you ask me...it seems as though he was...worried. About you,” said Emma in a sly voice. Evelyn giggled again. I hated it. When were they going to learn that Riddle had no good intentions in his mind? I threw up my hands in exasperation.
“Well, I’ll leave you to think whatever you like. I, for one, am going to arrive early for Transfiguration. And you’re coming too.” Getting up, I dragged the nearest people, which happened to be Evelyn and Andy (actually it was Hagrid and Andy, but since Hagrid was too...well, heavy...I picked Evelyn), along with me. Emma and Walter immediately followed.
Transfiguration can easily pass the test and prove itself to be my very favourite subject. Especially since old Dumbles (yes, I guess I’m used to the nickname by now) was teaching. He has a way with students, you know. The way of him teaching somewhat assured us that Transfiguration was the easiest subject in the world (though some, like Emma, scorned this), and it was a very comforting feeling that no harm would befall us once we entered the classroom. Even though it’s hardly unlikely that Grindelwald would climb through the window of the classroom and kill everyone on the spot. But still. You get me.
Right?
Anyway, it’s not like you’re living, or anything, right? Because if you were, you’d be...I don’t know, what would you be doing? Probably dying of boredom due to excessive rants and grumbles and daily happenings in the life of someone you couldn’t care less about. Or maybe yelling out all my secrets into public (you BETTER not. My secrets are on their way...). Oh well.
Back to the happenings...again (I do tend to go a bit out of topic, but forgive me, I think I’m going awry).
Transfiguration went along pretty well, with me being the first one to successfully transform the bunny into a cushion. Dumbles, of course, merely smiled “ he had never congratulated a student too blatantly for fear of favouritism. Professor Slurghorn (or Sluggy, as Andy calls him) is into favouritism. Golly, he even has his ‘fan club’! The Slug Club, he calls it. Please! Makes me glad I’m not in it. Though Riddle is. Of course he is! He should be! He is, as I mentioned earlier, every teacher’s ‘dream’...Yuck! It makes me want to really vomit.
Of course I’m almost a woman so vomiting isn’t considered very lady-like.
But still. If I really feel the urge to vomit, then I can’t help it, can I?
That was very stupid of me. On with the happenings (again!)...
What happenings? Life is pretty much the same as it was last year. That is, if you don’t count the whole prefect and OWLs thing.
Speaking of prefects, my life is quite hectic. I have innumerable prefectorial duties, and Walter is slightly on the lazy side, so I have to do almost everything by myself. Which includes ticking off screeching First Years in corridors, or aggravated Third Years trying to hex each other, or, most disgustedly, as it happened today, taking care of a Second Year for belching in the corridors (I had to remain with him long after he recovered!). Seriously, all of them make me sick. I am now half-regretting my dream. Who knew prefecting (or whatever you call it) would prove to be this tough? And Walter doesn’t lessen my worries, either. But I’m really too proud to let my friends know because they’ll probably smirk their skins out! As if I already didn’t have enough people teasing me.
Sadly, I’m actually one of the most-teased people in Gryffindor (not counting Hagrid). And I’m not exactly the prettiest, either. I have these unsightly glasses which are rectangle-shaped, and ridiculously frizzy dark hair that bounces about annoyingly all the time, so I prefer to hold them back into a tight bun (my friends say I should change my hairstyle; they say it makes me look old, but I prefer to go with what I’m comfortable with). And, as an added pain, I have pimples! Nasty ones, erupting out of the blue sometimes. I don’t have a lot of them, but a couple are more than enough to make anyone’s face look like a wreck.
Topping that, I’m probably the lankiest girl in the year. I’m skinny, extremely skinny (yet, judging by my love of food, that’s very unlikely!). And frail. So you see, I’m not the kind of a girl with whom people would want to talk (save my friends. My loyal, faithful friends!). If it helps, I love books and am often found with my nose buried in one (like now, for example. I just had my lunch and am now in the library, pretending to finish my Potions essay).
Ah, I bet you have had enough of grumbles for a day. And the bell’s about to ring; we have Charms next.
Bye!
Prefer,
Minerva
By the way, lunch was delicious! Or maybe it was because I was extremely hungry. But still. I wish they serve equally delicious lunch everyday, and not just on the first week back.