Minerva McGonagall

January 31st, 1980

[Warded Private]
I have come to the unwelcome conclusion that, for all intents and purposes, I have become my mother. I always believed that it would be far more likely that my transformation would take place into Aunt Honora: she who remained the eternal spinter and, true to form, was found three weeks dead and partially eaten by her own Horklumps. It came as something as a surprise, then, that I looked in the mirror this morning and saw my mother staring back at me. And not even Mother as she was in her prime: no, I saw the woman she became after Daddy's death. I remember her face when she received the terrorgram from the Muggles - it was as though something inside her had caved in, leaving a pit where what had once made Mildred Wildsmith famous as "the Highland Dread" once resided.

I saw that look in myself this morning. I feel ridiculous; I feel like some silly old beggar woman who can't do a thing to change what's happening around her. The world feels like a Quidditch pitch, three miles long with hoops as small as a mouse's eye. Albus doesn't want us to start the fight...I don't know that I can agree with that, but I suppose that if I stay quiet on the matter, it might be mistaken for agreement.

I've no desire to celebrate anything. It seems...frivolous.
[/Private]

Am I to understand that, since the Prophet has given in publishing anything that could be even loosely described as 'news', it is instead churning out what I can only describe as smut? Really, for shame: there is a difference, after all, between compromising your ideals and outright flaunting your corruptibility.

January 20th, 1980

Given recent developments, you must forgive me for my tardiness in making notes on the rest of my Transfiguration classes. Quite apart from the fact that I have little to no free time these days in which to do the work, my desire to educate anyone seems to have waned somewhat. I did not believe that such a day would ever come, but when I take stock of where we stand as a race I can only wonder whether we even deserve to be educated I am getting older now and perhaps something as emotionally draining as teaching is no longer for me.

I read with no small amount of amusement about the Minister for Magic. Imagine, the appointed official of the Wizarding world, a terrorist! Tell me, those of you with more legal experience than I, is it possible to be guilty of treason against oneself? I was under the impression that generations of our officials have trotted out the familiar line of Ministerial infallibility when called on their extra-legal activities. Perhaps, in between our hating her for destabilising this truly utopian society that we have constructed, we should congratulate Millicent Bagnold for making history. That is, unless the woman they are writing about is simply an imposter: I always imagined the real Minister Bagnold would have a much better taste in her men(!)


[Order of the Phoenix]
Suffice it to say, I will not be racing down to London in order to register. For some curiously ungraspable reason, I don't believe I would be all that welcome(!) Or, as the case may be, I would likely be made suffocatingly welcome until the time came to leave. Regardless, this new move looks as though it will be the beginning of a new chapter for some of us: those who choose not to register will likely not be terribly welcome in the future. I will not make any recommendations as to your actions; much as I would enjoy to see every single one of us united under one roof, I realise how dangerous a course of action that would be.

Heed your own counsel: I know from experience that each and every one of you are intelligent enough to make your own decisions.
[/Order]

December 26th, 1979 - approximately 4am.

[Warded to the Order]

Oh dear me. I hope you won't all be too inferiat unfurio angry with me, but I seem to have done something very silly. Very enjoyable, but also really rather very silly indeed. I'm in-- Well--

I'll start at the beginning. I was having dinner on my own, and when the cracker went off there was one of those wonderful hats with the fruit bowl on them. I felt silly putting that on, but it reminded me of Christmas at Hogmanay, no wait Hogwarts last year. So to stave of maudlin...essness, I went a healthy, and bracing walk.

I'm babbling (I do that, sometimes, you know). I met up with some fine people (Muggle, I think, but oh they were lovely) who suggested that I join them for a drink! As most of you know, I have a little sherry with Christmas dinner at the school. not ENOUGH to get drunk, but...well, merry!

I've been in this pub since 4pm Christmas afternoon, my friends, and it's still open for some reason. I have no idea where it is, but it's called "The Red Dragon". Imagine! And let me tell you, it's certainly not an accurate representation of a Chinese Fireball on the sign. If you ask me, it's much more like a Swedish Short-Snout, but with funny little extra legs or some such. Most whimsical, but not at all grounded in reality. These Muggles(!)

Oh dear. A man has just approached me, and asked for my 'number'. Is he accusing me of being old?! Is a lady meant to hand out 'numbers' willy-nilly? If so, I've always liked the number '49'. In ANY case, I fear they will find me and my magical tendencies out soon, with their nonsense talk of two gentlemen called Ronnie and I don't know who this Standley Baxwell chap is, but he's very popular. I hope this doesn't occur in your pub, Aberforth Dumbledore! It could be responsible for putting a woman quite ill at ease!

[/Order]

December 18th, 1979

[Warded Private to Severus Snape]

I am forced to admit that I'm beginning to see what you meant.

[/Private]

December 13th, 1979

I have spent the last two days involved in the task, but I'm pleased to say that my Christmas decorations are all taken care of now. I've chosen a silver and gold theme, something akin to the table decorations at the Hogwarts Christmas feast: needless to say, this will be my first winter holiday at home in twenty-three years - and I am not enjoying it all that greatly thus far(!) The house is warm, and I have enough visitors to keep me busy, but...well, I have grown accustomed to the bustle of the school. Though it might shock some of our old students with close-knit (or perhaps overbearing) families, most of the staff and many of the students remain within the castle for Christmas. There is always a great deal happening, and (as much as I will not miss Mr Filch complaining to me about a cabal of Gryffindors charming snowballs to follow him around the castle) I rather enjoy the amount of people I'm fortunate enough to spend the season with.

There's a curious atmosphere at the table over Christmas, and I think I'll miss it this year. No Albus with his odd weakness for awful cracker jokes, Hagrid's wonderfully lethally strong home-concocted mead. I thought of using live fairies in my own tree this year, but I simply can't charm them like Filius does - I ended up conjuring some fireflies instead, although I should think that they'll need replacing occasionally. Ah, well: since I have no actual plans for the coming weeks, at least I shall be on hand to re-conjure the flies if they fade.

In any case, I now have time to transcribe my notes on the second of the Principal Exceptions. My apologies if any of you have been waiting with bated breath, but my wholehearted embrace of the decorating bug has meant that I haven't so much as picked this thing up in days.

( As before, an Obfuscation Charm...one wand tap will reveal the text. )

And now, I think I will go down to the marketplace and pick out a nice turkey.

( Private )

[Warded Private to Aberforth]
This is precisely what I was talking to you about, trying to shield them. If I can bear the state of the floor, I may come and indulge in a drink with you.
[/Aberforth]

I received an excellent suggestion from one Mr Barty Crouch (the younger, rather than the senior - I doubt Barty Sr could spare the interest, time or ink it would take to pen me a line) the other day, regarding the use to which I could put my journal. As Hogwarts is regrettably closed for the time being, I shall endeavour to keep my students (and potential students, given the new audience that this book has opened up to me) updated about certain tenets of Transfiguration. Of course, the system is imperfect: I taught seven years of classes at once, and so finding an adequate level to apply to everyone is all but impossible. Nevertheless, I have done my best to engage with a topic of use to all but the most talented of wizards.

The notes I shall transcribe will be irregular: I do not have the luxury of a definite schedule currently, so I shall have to aid in your education during stolen moments. But since I shall be dealing with the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, I don't believe this to be a problem. We'll concentrate on the first of his Exceptions, and arguably the most important, being Food. The rest of my notes I have placed under an Obfuscation Charm, so as not to draw unwanted attention from the minority whose wit seems to be matched only by their tediousness.

( A simple wand tap will override the charm's effects )

These notes aren't intended to be comprehensive: after all, I would much prefer a double class in which to teach, and there are a number of diagrams that would benefit your understanding enormously. Hopefully, however, you will use this as a stepping-stone to more a involved understanding of the exception. You may also question me, in regards to anything you would like expounded further, though I simply cannot promise to answer every question the wizarding world can muster.

[Warded to Self]
It's begun, then. Begun in force, that is - oh, we've seen the signs coming for a long time now, but we ignored them just like they did. They're not completely stupid, and neither are we, but nobody would know it to look. And now Hogwarts, and Agnes, and the Prewetts just to start with...oh, Albus. How did we get here, Albus? When did we get to be so blind that we ignored the signs we've already come to know in the past? There's no sense in...in dwelling, I suppose. What's done is done, and now we just have to move forward in the hope that we anticipate the next move a bit sooner. How can you fight an enemy that will sink to such depths, though? There are some things even Albus won't do, we all know that. Too noble, or too...I can't even think straight, can't think of the words! All I can see is her, him, them: every student I've ever taught, who's been splashed across the "Prophet" as missing, or...or worse. It makes me so angry, and whenever I think that's the wrong emotion to be feeling, it just makes me even angrier! I don't know how these children do it, I really don't. Except they're not children anymore, any of them...perhaps I need to stop thinking about them like that.

If anything happened to Ja I need to address my new, gallant colleagues.
[/Self]

[Warded to the Order of the Phoenix]
Good afternoon, everybody. My name is Profe Minerva McGonagall, and I have the honour of being your newest addition to the Order of the Phoenix. Quite how this organisation and its membership (to say nothing of its leadership!) has been kept a secret from me for all this time, I have no idea. I don't think it's important, however. What is important is that I'm here now, and eager to get to work. I am, to employ a phrase, "raring to go"...so I do hope the rest of you have some wonderfully exciting secret missions to send me off on.

They're going to regret getting me out of Hogwarts, mark my words.
[/Order]


I had never intended to make use of one of these things. My days were far too busy with the important task of preparing the next generation of magic for life in the real world. Unfortunately, since that task was taken from me, I find myself with a great deal more free time. Perhaps some correspondence isn't such a bad idea, after all. It certainly can't hurt.