Far worse to be Love's lover...
I think only a precious few will be interested in this, seeing as how it is merely my personal life and nothing to do with the grand scheme of Hogwarts, but I might as well put it down in words: it has ended. Not that there was, really, anything left to end, so perhaps it is merely a formality at this point to say that it is done. Yet, there we are.
When I first met Sirius he was not much more than a loud, energetic boy who kept me awake and interrupted my studying. It took an incident in our Defence Against the Dark Arts class to bring us together and then, later, when they discovered what I was, and what they (he) did about it, our fates were sealed together forever. I suppose that just translated itself into romance - and don't get me wrong, it was wonderful in its prime - but over time it faded into little more than just a habit neither of us could (or wanted to) break. Until now.
I won't go into any real details. It's nobody's sodding business, really. If you want gossip, go to Sinistra. I'm sure she'll cook up something juicy and truthless.
The moon waxed and waned as usual, leaving me tired and a bit sore round the edges, but no worse for it. The only trouble was with that blasted harpy, which took half the night to hunt down. She put up a brilliant fight and I'm afraid I wasn't fast enough to outrun her wings - they're razor sharp and I have some lovely wounds on my back as a result - but in the end all it took was a bite to the neck and she ceased to struggle.
The rest of the night is a bit vague, as the wolf was in control for the better part of it. I do recall returning to my rooms, and a warm presence at my side. I slept until dawn, but as I awoke as a human again I remember the soft sound of paws on the stone floor as they left the rooms, and a sense of peace I should not have had following a full moon.
And for that, I thank you.
In other news, the lecture is coming along nicely. Hermione Granger popped by my office today with some notes she'd made for Harry (presumably due to the first task of the Trizard Tournament) on the subject of dragons that she thought might be of use to me. They are, naturally, more detailed and concise than my own notes, and so I gave her twenty points for her helpfulness, and a Chocolate Frog just because.
Have recieved a reply from Charlie Weasley, with another remarkable postcard:
Arrangements are underway, he says, and I'm afraid I will need to speak with Madame Hooch about a particular matter, just as soon as I settle the date of the lecture with Dumbledore. She will not be pleased, but really, she rarely ever is (except at the expense of others). Perhaps I will hurl myself down a flight of stairs before hand, to put her in the right humor for my request.
These postcards are handmade, and I suspect they're done by Charlie Weasley himself. Now I feel a bit foolish with the card from a shop that I sent him in reply. I may attempt to turn an artistic hand on the reply. I used to be fairly adept with a paintbrush, though after Sirius mocked my schoolboy masterpiece I let the hobby die. That git. He's a philistine, anyway. I still think Dogs Playing Exploding Snap is rather genius.
In his owl, Charlie Weasley asked me for the recent Hogwarts gossip. Suppose I will oblige him that. It's not like we're not an entertaining lot, anyway, though I doubt there's enough room on a single postcard for everything. Might just send two.
Ron, thank your father for his help in securing those Quidditch tickets for me for the weekend. I really appreciate it. Were they very hard to get? I would hope not, though it IS Montrose at Kenmare. Minerva, would you care to make a little wager, say, five Galleons that Kenmare takes the Snitch for a victory? Ron, I shall bring you a little something from Ireland, as a token of my gratitude.
Must go and ask Hagrid if he'll stuff this harpy for me. Those of you in my sixth-year classes would do well to read up on the beasts in the coming weeks. You never know when one might be driven to giving a pop-quiz on the subject. Consider yourselves warned.
Am off to do professorly things.