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february 4th, 1977
"𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐕, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔," Professor McGonagall knew all too well that Hogwarts lacks quiet spaces and it's hard for students to find places where the noise level is deducted. Mock exams are approaching and the library is usually cramped— it doesn't help that the library is quite small given the size of the campus, "And I couldn't help but notice you're somewhat a teacher's pet."
"Thank you," she grins, "everybody loves their pets."
McGonagall found that comment strange proven by the puzzled look she expressed, and Lori wiped her own smile away quickly. "Good luck, and," she pauses, picking up some papers she'd just finished grading, "another student I gave a week-long detention to will be joining you at eight... I hope you don't mind."
Lori absolutely minded because people who get detention are unserious and will likely distract her from her very important, optional essay she'd been assigned; she only hopes it's a first or second year who will not be very interested in speaking to her. It was phrased like a question, a prompt. A yes or no question—easy. But whenever you're asked something by Professor McGonagall, the correct answer is to always enthusiastically nod, because it wasn't a question at all. It was a command. "No problem at all, Professor."
As weird as it may sound, Lori admired her transfiguration professor a lot. Her ability to remain stoic and follow rules, not to mention her incessant effort to be a perfectionist at every given turn.
As she studies, she remembers when Tara and she would have sleepovers for a few nights before Christmas Eve's, and Lori's dad Darius would pull himself out of work and take his daughter and best friend to lunch. He had salt-and-pepper-streaked hair that slicked back around his ears and wore brown leather jackets when he shucked the suit jacket. He had a plethora of leather jackets that Lori often stole before going back to Hogwarts. Tara introduced fashion magazines to Darius and he's been obsessed with those articles ever since. It was ridiculous— anyways, a few days ago, Lori sent her father a letter to get her Ovid's Metamorphoses because she was really into Greek and Roman tragedies at the moment, and pre-order the Rumours vinyl (which he couldn't get because they were sold out) so instead, he sent her a recent, immensely popular magazine.
