I am a father. I have a daughter.
I had hoped for a son, but things do not always go as planned. Our daughter will attend Beauxbatons, as it appears that Hogwarts is as ever a bastion of Muggle tolerance. So will our son, who will come as soon as is prudently possible. We must not look as though we are eager to have an heir, but neither must we look as though we are incapable of having one.
Reputation is an irritating thing to uphold, but whatever must be done.
Work goes on. I would, if I could, bar all Mudbloods from entering. It is sickening to see animal spawn as such coexisting with good witches and wizards. Give me time and allies and perhaps it will occur.
I should speak to Mr Travers. I have heard rumors.
My life is a series of duties, none of which were those I had hoped for in exiting Hogwarts. Still, I will tolerate. I have no other choice. There are things in life that one must live with, and things in life that are meant to be enjoyed.