wit begeondan gemete is mannes maest hord
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October 1, Tuesday
A new start – I've given my first German class today! So weird! I'd been to London last week, on a book-shopping tour, and bought a beginner's course of German (in a Muggle bookshop, obviously, – that will remain a mystery for me forever: we can make wizarding English-language textbooks, cf. Wandlength and Hexway, OK they weren't the absolute best but at least they were there; what about the other languages? The great British snobbery, I call it, multiplied by the great wizarding snobbery), and spent the time between lunch and dinner copying out the pages that I needed for today. I wish I remembered who taught me the copying spell, I'd send them a huge crate of Chocolate Frogs or Firewhisky. Imagine if I had to actually write it all down!!!
Twenty people turned up, from all Houses and years as different as three and seven. We spent the first lesson learning some basic phrases and training pronunciation. I'll have to get a real German speaker in from somewhere to do it properly though. It's been great fun, and it looked like they enjoyed it too. For my part, I didn't even notice the hour pass, I even kept them late a few minutes. I hope we continue in the same vein.
October 16, Wednesday
Hmmm. Weird. I might be going paranoid, but I got the distinct impression that they were giggling at me.
What a way to write a diary. As I walked along a corridor today, I passed a group of fourth- and fifth-year girls issuing from a loo. The only one I knew was Lavender Brown. As they caught sight of me, they exchanged looks and started giggling like mad. Naturally, I was puzzled, and looked at them enquiringly. That only sent them into more uncontrollable giggles. I shrugged my shoulders and passed on, and behind me, they started positively shrieking with glee. What the hell?..
October 17, Thursday
Found out about yesterday. Whatever induced me to chat to a teenage female ghost in a bathroom? I should have told her to go away the second I saw her. (Maybe that would've made matters only worse, though!) The girls yesterday, it turns out, were in fact laughing at me, or rather about me, after hearing some intimate details from Moaning Myrtle. Namely something about my hair. It's not as if it's a closely-guarded secret or anything, the fact that all the hair I have on my body is fur, but really, it's not something I would like a group of students to be discussing in a girls' loo between classes. I gave MM what for, but she's quite incorrigible.
German's been quite nice again, but I've found out where Muggle books are lacking: no magical words, of course! They give all those Muggle school-related words, but predictably there's no word for "wand", "quill", "broomstick" or "spell". I'll make up an additional word-list for them for Tuesday.
October 22, Tuesday
Curse Muggle technology! I've just spent two hours in vain attempts to copy the sound from the magnetic tapes that accompanied my German teacher's book into something usable the wizarding way, cos obviously my students want something reliable to imitate by way of pronunciation, not just me. Aargh! Dammit!
1:23 AM: Just been woken by a great idea! Why haven't I thought of it before? This is bloody brilliant! I can bewitch the book itself to talk!! I'll try it in the morning. No, I can't wait...
1:27 AM: YESSS! I am cool! I am King of Technology!
October 23, Wednesday
Spent all day teaching the book to talk. It works brilliantly! I've fine-tuned the spell so that I can even do dialogues now, it can speak with a man's, a woman's and a child's voice. I only hope it doesn't get stage-fright tomorrow as I take it to class!
December 25, Wednesday
Merry Christmas! I woke up to find a tottering pile of cards on my table, then a few more arrived during breakfast – from Aunties and cousins (Aunt Vi's sent in her regular pair of woollen socks, canary yellow this year), from the Weasleys, from Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, from Lupin (!), from Ruthwell, even one from Boris Buchstabe the Runes master at Durmstrang, that was a pleasant surprise (and I never thought of sending him a card, what a ratfink!). There were also three presents: two books, one from Sevvie and the other from Flitwick, and a quill and inkbottle with the Hogwarts crest on them from Dumbledore (regular item for new members of the staff, I presume, but still very nice of him). On my part, I presented Severus with a pouch of dried roots of a rare golden edelweiss that I'd brought over from Austria. For the Headmaster, I'd prepared a small bottle of an invigorating cordial (as recommended by the Hogsmeade apothecary). I hadn't expected Flitwick to give me anything, truth to tell, and it's fortunate I had the little stack of emergency presents that I'd bought two weeks ago. I chose a nice little notebook for Flitwick that has a landscape on the cover which changes according to the season, which I handed on to him after breakfast. He seemed to like it very much, but then he's so enthusiastic about everything that goes on around him!
Then I walked all over the school presenting my colleagues with my enchanted baubles. Madam Pince nearly cried, I think it could have been the first time anyone at school gave her anything for Christmas. Mr Filch thanked me rather gruffly (he knows I'm not a fan of Umbridge's, whereas he adores her), but nevertheless put up the bauble in his office, hanging it from the chains on the ceiling. That looked really gruesome! Madam Pomfrey was of course already buried under a heap of presents but was glad to get mine as well.
And yes, in case you're wondering I did present a bauble to Prof. Umbridge as well. I mean, it's the season of goodwill blah blah blah. I just thought it would be really mean not to give her one when even Mr Filch got his.
December 31, Tuesday
(January 1, 4:16 AM, to be more precise) Saw the old year off in style. Since most of the students are gone for the holidays, the teachers seem to be feeling much more relaxed and informal (even with U around). We decided to hold a little New Year's Eve party in the staff room. Everyone was there, even Trelawney and Hagrid, even though Tr is on probation and Hagrid's not a favourite of our Inquisitrix either. Actually, it did look like we're about to expect a new Educational Decree soon, stating that all teacher parties can only be held with the supreme approval of the Inquisitor, or even Minister for Magic. She definitely looked cheesed off at first at our having uncontrolled fun. She then decided that sulking in the corner wouldn't look good, apparently, and joined the merrymaking, but you could see she was keeping up appearances.
The party was great. When we gathered at eleven, Dumbledore proposed a toast, we all had a drink and then just sat chatting and eating mince pies, until it was nearly twelve. Then, when the enormous clock had chimed midnight, D led us in a very loud chorus of Auld Lang Syne. Then there was the cheering and the letting off of crackers and the jingling of champagne glasses. Festive spirit reigned. Then we drank and ate some more, and then someone suggested dancing. Dear old Flitwick squeaked: "What a good idea!" then disappeared and reappeared five minutes later levitating an enormous hurdy-gurdy, which could play almost any tune in the world, as it transpired. You say the name or hum the tune, it spins the handle for a few seconds and starts playing it, very decently arranged, and your only task is just to start dancing/singing along on cue. It was great fun. We moved all the furniture out of the way and danced and sang well into the small hours. Even U took part in the dancing, although nobody but our ever-forbearing Headmaster would stand up with her.
January 11, Saturday
Poor Severus. After all that's been happening round here, and the attack on Arthur Weasley and everything, Dumbledore thought it best that Harry Potter should be taught Occlumency, but thinks that it would be unwise for him to do it himself since – for obvious reasons – he would not like to have a direct contact with Voldemort. So he chose the next best man to do it – Severus. The poor sod is seething with rage. I told him he should feel flattered, but it didn't wash, of course. He had a fight with Black while in London, too. Looks like Lupin is the only person among us who's actually grown up.
Oh and, Arthur Weasley's back home, right as rain. Very good. We won't let a lousy snake snatch people out of our ranks!
February 10, Monday
Time to write that Portkey application, I think. For the record: I'm thinking of taking the OWL group to the British Museum to see some Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian things next week, and the best way to take them will be by Portkey because it's much less hassle than Flooing them all to my flat (I doubt that the Ministry will welcome a sudden invasion of schoolchildren in their Hall, and anyway I'm not at all sure I'll find my way out of there above ground) or side-along-Apparating with ten children clinging to me. So I have to write some sort of application, and I'll have to think of a way to hand it in to Magical Transportation Dept over the head of the esteemed Inquisitor, because she might refuse to give her consent and ruin my wonderful plan by nipping it in the bud. I'll get in touch with Arthur or Tonks and ask them.
Later: No, they say I'll have to apply to her personally. She's in charge of everything that's going on in this school. So you want it formal, eh? All right then, ma'am... you asked for it.
I, Roderick Heald, hereby ask for your permission... no
I do hereby request permission leave to set up a Portkey device to allow the transportation of myself and a group of fifth-year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, numbering ten (please find the list enclosed), on the sixteenth day of February of this year, from the entrance hall of thesaid aforementioned school to my residence at No. 6A, Gillingham St, London, at 9:30 AM, and from the said residence back to the said school at 5:00 PM, to facilitate a study school trip to London necessary within the framework of the course of Ancient Runes at this school according to the study programme. I also request your permission for those students to be absent from their lessons on the day of the tour school trip.
Yeah, that looks about right. Now to talk to Prof. Binns (not that he'll notice them missing, but still), Prof. Trelawney, Prof. Vector and – oh! roll-eyes – Prof. Snape.
Oh, and I must remember to tell the kids to wear something more Muggle-like. I could use a twilight charm on them, but I think it will be much easier if they really look inconspicuous.
February 15, Sunday
Spent all say worrying about the British Museum tomorrow (yeah, I forgot to mention that I did, amazingly, get a permission from Umbridge!). I haven't ever set up Portkeys before, so I've tried it a few times, transporting myself across my room, and I think I'm reasonably happy with short-distance-travel results. I'll now try long-distance and attempt to skip to London.
In case I don't make it, I hereby leave all my worldly possessions to Severus Snape, of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Here goes.
Ten minutes later: Yess! Yess!! I've done it! I got to London and safely back! Oh, I must say this is a relief. I just hope there isn't a way to mess it up from the Ministry. Because actually, my biggest worry is that Umbridge agreed to let me do this outing so easily. It just feels like a trap. Or probably I'm just paranoid, as usual.
February 16, Monday
The British Museum excursion's been a real success. We set off from here in the morning, and the Portkey (a piece of rope) took us obligingly to my flat (although, truth to tell, I was half expecting it to land us, or at least me, somewhere else, somewhere nasty, like Azkaban for instance). There, I looked over the students to see if they were Muggle-like enough. Some were, but those who are Purebloods had some difficulty dressing up as Muggles. As a result, we had to spent about forty minutes at the flat while I put camouflage spells on their clothes. I mean I'm not saying that a top-hat and a 1950s cardigan aren't Muggle clothes (Theodore Nott came dressed in them), but it would be a bit hard to try and pose as a schoolboy in them. I had told them all to wear their House scarves, to single them out in the crowd easier, and in the end they looked as presentable and inconspicuous a group of schoolchildren as ever entered the BM or the Tube, which we took there. I wore corduroys and a jumper myself (and my old Ravenclaw scarf as well, for the students to locate me easier, in their turn).
The girl at the information desk must have thought I was a history teacher or something, what with a bunch of kids crowding behind me, all of us in college scarves. "Which school you from?" she asked. "Hogwarts," I said airily. "Never heard of it," she said. "It's rather obscure, and very selective. Up in Scotland," I said. "Oh," she said, and we went inside. The kids were watching me with eyes round as apples. It had never occurred to them that sometimes, the best way to lie your way out is to tell the whole holy truth. She'll never remember the name, and even if she does, she'll never even dream of beginning to suspect just how selective this school is.
We looked at all the Anglo-Saxon and Norse things, Sutton Hoo and all that, and they really liked it. Then I took them for lunch to the Museum Tavern, and then we walked back to Gillingham St at a leisurely speed, enjoying London in the weak winter sunshine, discussing Runes and things. There was still half an hour before the Portkey back, so we had some tea and biscuits and I told them a little about Uppsala and the Society and my work at the International Dept and Durmstrang and Kitezh etc. Then we went back to Hogwarts.
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October 1, Tuesday
A new start – I've given my first German class today! So weird! I'd been to London last week, on a book-shopping tour, and bought a beginner's course of German (in a Muggle bookshop, obviously, – that will remain a mystery for me forever: we can make wizarding English-language textbooks, cf. Wandlength and Hexway, OK they weren't the absolute best but at least they were there; what about the other languages? The great British snobbery, I call it, multiplied by the great wizarding snobbery), and spent the time between lunch and dinner copying out the pages that I needed for today. I wish I remembered who taught me the copying spell, I'd send them a huge crate of Chocolate Frogs or Firewhisky. Imagine if I had to actually write it all down!!!
Twenty people turned up, from all Houses and years as different as three and seven. We spent the first lesson learning some basic phrases and training pronunciation. I'll have to get a real German speaker in from somewhere to do it properly though. It's been great fun, and it looked like they enjoyed it too. For my part, I didn't even notice the hour pass, I even kept them late a few minutes. I hope we continue in the same vein.
October 16, Wednesday
Hmmm. Weird. I might be going paranoid, but I got the distinct impression that they were giggling at me.
What a way to write a diary. As I walked along a corridor today, I passed a group of fourth- and fifth-year girls issuing from a loo. The only one I knew was Lavender Brown. As they caught sight of me, they exchanged looks and started giggling like mad. Naturally, I was puzzled, and looked at them enquiringly. That only sent them into more uncontrollable giggles. I shrugged my shoulders and passed on, and behind me, they started positively shrieking with glee. What the hell?..
October 17, Thursday
Found out about yesterday. Whatever induced me to chat to a teenage female ghost in a bathroom? I should have told her to go away the second I saw her. (Maybe that would've made matters only worse, though!) The girls yesterday, it turns out, were in fact laughing at me, or rather about me, after hearing some intimate details from Moaning Myrtle. Namely something about my hair. It's not as if it's a closely-guarded secret or anything, the fact that all the hair I have on my body is fur, but really, it's not something I would like a group of students to be discussing in a girls' loo between classes. I gave MM what for, but she's quite incorrigible.
German's been quite nice again, but I've found out where Muggle books are lacking: no magical words, of course! They give all those Muggle school-related words, but predictably there's no word for "wand", "quill", "broomstick" or "spell". I'll make up an additional word-list for them for Tuesday.
October 22, Tuesday
Curse Muggle technology! I've just spent two hours in vain attempts to copy the sound from the magnetic tapes that accompanied my German teacher's book into something usable the wizarding way, cos obviously my students want something reliable to imitate by way of pronunciation, not just me. Aargh! Dammit!
1:23 AM: Just been woken by a great idea! Why haven't I thought of it before? This is bloody brilliant! I can bewitch the book itself to talk!! I'll try it in the morning. No, I can't wait...
1:27 AM: YESSS! I am cool! I am King of Technology!
October 23, Wednesday
Spent all day teaching the book to talk. It works brilliantly! I've fine-tuned the spell so that I can even do dialogues now, it can speak with a man's, a woman's and a child's voice. I only hope it doesn't get stage-fright tomorrow as I take it to class!
December 25, Wednesday
Merry Christmas! I woke up to find a tottering pile of cards on my table, then a few more arrived during breakfast – from Aunties and cousins (Aunt Vi's sent in her regular pair of woollen socks, canary yellow this year), from the Weasleys, from Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, from Lupin (!), from Ruthwell, even one from Boris Buchstabe the Runes master at Durmstrang, that was a pleasant surprise (and I never thought of sending him a card, what a ratfink!). There were also three presents: two books, one from Sevvie and the other from Flitwick, and a quill and inkbottle with the Hogwarts crest on them from Dumbledore (regular item for new members of the staff, I presume, but still very nice of him). On my part, I presented Severus with a pouch of dried roots of a rare golden edelweiss that I'd brought over from Austria. For the Headmaster, I'd prepared a small bottle of an invigorating cordial (as recommended by the Hogsmeade apothecary). I hadn't expected Flitwick to give me anything, truth to tell, and it's fortunate I had the little stack of emergency presents that I'd bought two weeks ago. I chose a nice little notebook for Flitwick that has a landscape on the cover which changes according to the season, which I handed on to him after breakfast. He seemed to like it very much, but then he's so enthusiastic about everything that goes on around him!
Then I walked all over the school presenting my colleagues with my enchanted baubles. Madam Pince nearly cried, I think it could have been the first time anyone at school gave her anything for Christmas. Mr Filch thanked me rather gruffly (he knows I'm not a fan of Umbridge's, whereas he adores her), but nevertheless put up the bauble in his office, hanging it from the chains on the ceiling. That looked really gruesome! Madam Pomfrey was of course already buried under a heap of presents but was glad to get mine as well.
And yes, in case you're wondering I did present a bauble to Prof. Umbridge as well. I mean, it's the season of goodwill blah blah blah. I just thought it would be really mean not to give her one when even Mr Filch got his.
December 31, Tuesday
(January 1, 4:16 AM, to be more precise) Saw the old year off in style. Since most of the students are gone for the holidays, the teachers seem to be feeling much more relaxed and informal (even with U around). We decided to hold a little New Year's Eve party in the staff room. Everyone was there, even Trelawney and Hagrid, even though Tr is on probation and Hagrid's not a favourite of our Inquisitrix either. Actually, it did look like we're about to expect a new Educational Decree soon, stating that all teacher parties can only be held with the supreme approval of the Inquisitor, or even Minister for Magic. She definitely looked cheesed off at first at our having uncontrolled fun. She then decided that sulking in the corner wouldn't look good, apparently, and joined the merrymaking, but you could see she was keeping up appearances.
The party was great. When we gathered at eleven, Dumbledore proposed a toast, we all had a drink and then just sat chatting and eating mince pies, until it was nearly twelve. Then, when the enormous clock had chimed midnight, D led us in a very loud chorus of Auld Lang Syne. Then there was the cheering and the letting off of crackers and the jingling of champagne glasses. Festive spirit reigned. Then we drank and ate some more, and then someone suggested dancing. Dear old Flitwick squeaked: "What a good idea!" then disappeared and reappeared five minutes later levitating an enormous hurdy-gurdy, which could play almost any tune in the world, as it transpired. You say the name or hum the tune, it spins the handle for a few seconds and starts playing it, very decently arranged, and your only task is just to start dancing/singing along on cue. It was great fun. We moved all the furniture out of the way and danced and sang well into the small hours. Even U took part in the dancing, although nobody but our ever-forbearing Headmaster would stand up with her.
January 11, Saturday
Poor Severus. After all that's been happening round here, and the attack on Arthur Weasley and everything, Dumbledore thought it best that Harry Potter should be taught Occlumency, but thinks that it would be unwise for him to do it himself since – for obvious reasons – he would not like to have a direct contact with Voldemort. So he chose the next best man to do it – Severus. The poor sod is seething with rage. I told him he should feel flattered, but it didn't wash, of course. He had a fight with Black while in London, too. Looks like Lupin is the only person among us who's actually grown up.
Oh and, Arthur Weasley's back home, right as rain. Very good. We won't let a lousy snake snatch people out of our ranks!
February 10, Monday
Time to write that Portkey application, I think. For the record: I'm thinking of taking the OWL group to the British Museum to see some Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian things next week, and the best way to take them will be by Portkey because it's much less hassle than Flooing them all to my flat (I doubt that the Ministry will welcome a sudden invasion of schoolchildren in their Hall, and anyway I'm not at all sure I'll find my way out of there above ground) or side-along-Apparating with ten children clinging to me. So I have to write some sort of application, and I'll have to think of a way to hand it in to Magical Transportation Dept over the head of the esteemed Inquisitor, because she might refuse to give her consent and ruin my wonderful plan by nipping it in the bud. I'll get in touch with Arthur or Tonks and ask them.
Later: No, they say I'll have to apply to her personally. She's in charge of everything that's going on in this school. So you want it formal, eh? All right then, ma'am... you asked for it.
Prof. Dolores Jane Umbridge
the high inquisitor blah blah blah
the high inquisitor blah blah blah
I, Roderick Heald, hereby ask for your permission... no
I do hereby request permission leave to set up a Portkey device to allow the transportation of myself and a group of fifth-year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, numbering ten (please find the list enclosed), on the sixteenth day of February of this year, from the entrance hall of the
Roderick Heald, MaD,
Professor of Ancient Runes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Professor of Ancient Runes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Yeah, that looks about right. Now to talk to Prof. Binns (not that he'll notice them missing, but still), Prof. Trelawney, Prof. Vector and – oh! roll-eyes – Prof. Snape.
Oh, and I must remember to tell the kids to wear something more Muggle-like. I could use a twilight charm on them, but I think it will be much easier if they really look inconspicuous.
February 15, Sunday
Spent all say worrying about the British Museum tomorrow (yeah, I forgot to mention that I did, amazingly, get a permission from Umbridge!). I haven't ever set up Portkeys before, so I've tried it a few times, transporting myself across my room, and I think I'm reasonably happy with short-distance-travel results. I'll now try long-distance and attempt to skip to London.
In case I don't make it, I hereby leave all my worldly possessions to Severus Snape, of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Here goes.
Ten minutes later: Yess! Yess!! I've done it! I got to London and safely back! Oh, I must say this is a relief. I just hope there isn't a way to mess it up from the Ministry. Because actually, my biggest worry is that Umbridge agreed to let me do this outing so easily. It just feels like a trap. Or probably I'm just paranoid, as usual.
February 16, Monday
The British Museum excursion's been a real success. We set off from here in the morning, and the Portkey (a piece of rope) took us obligingly to my flat (although, truth to tell, I was half expecting it to land us, or at least me, somewhere else, somewhere nasty, like Azkaban for instance). There, I looked over the students to see if they were Muggle-like enough. Some were, but those who are Purebloods had some difficulty dressing up as Muggles. As a result, we had to spent about forty minutes at the flat while I put camouflage spells on their clothes. I mean I'm not saying that a top-hat and a 1950s cardigan aren't Muggle clothes (Theodore Nott came dressed in them), but it would be a bit hard to try and pose as a schoolboy in them. I had told them all to wear their House scarves, to single them out in the crowd easier, and in the end they looked as presentable and inconspicuous a group of schoolchildren as ever entered the BM or the Tube, which we took there. I wore corduroys and a jumper myself (and my old Ravenclaw scarf as well, for the students to locate me easier, in their turn).
The girl at the information desk must have thought I was a history teacher or something, what with a bunch of kids crowding behind me, all of us in college scarves. "Which school you from?" she asked. "Hogwarts," I said airily. "Never heard of it," she said. "It's rather obscure, and very selective. Up in Scotland," I said. "Oh," she said, and we went inside. The kids were watching me with eyes round as apples. It had never occurred to them that sometimes, the best way to lie your way out is to tell the whole holy truth. She'll never remember the name, and even if she does, she'll never even dream of beginning to suspect just how selective this school is.
We looked at all the Anglo-Saxon and Norse things, Sutton Hoo and all that, and they really liked it. Then I took them for lunch to the Museum Tavern, and then we walked back to Gillingham St at a leisurely speed, enjoying London in the weak winter sunshine, discussing Runes and things. There was still half an hour before the Portkey back, so we had some tea and biscuits and I told them a little about Uppsala and the Society and my work at the International Dept and Durmstrang and Kitezh etc. Then we went back to Hogwarts.
@темы: ГП, RH, творчески наследил
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07.02.2008 в 21:37Very professional and fun to read.
Thanks.
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07.02.2008 в 22:53