Chapter Text
Dear Mum and Dad,
I meant to write sooner, yet the week has gotten away from me and I spent the first week mindlessly flailing around with an incomprehensible map provided on my schedule. Hogwarts is a beautiful but architecturally impossible building, the staircases move at an erratic pace and doors change, half the Professors don’t even have a real door to their offices. There are statues of Greek and Roman and Celtic Gods everywhere, living paintings of ancient scenes and people who contributed so much to magical education. Every hour I find a new piece of artwork that’s alive in some way. There are several paintings of Shakespeare scenes Mum, strangely no sign of Julius Caesar yet but I’ll keep a watchful eye for Calpurnia.
An older boy, Fred Weasley, showed me the way up to the Owlery. He said the owl I’m sending, Malakbel, he’s a Short-Eared Owl - Asio flammeus - smaller than most of the others but supposedly he’s very well-behaved in Muggle neighborhoods. Given that his species is native to the British Isles and semi-active during the day if anyone sees him in the yard they wouldn’t think much about him. He will also wait for you to write back as long as you tell him ‘Wait in the garden’ or wherever you want him, he will eat the moths, chafers, beetles and whatnot plus those mice that keep getting into basil and fennel in the back corner.
Anyways where to start?
I was sorted by a very rude talking hat into Gryffindor, that is the House of Godric Gryffindor, touted as the home to the brave, the honorable, the honest, the just, and the passionate.
So far I have made acquaintances with a few older housemates, Fred Weasley for one, his twin brother George for second, along with their friends Alicia, Angelina, Lee, and Katie. A seventh-year girl, Moira Garmhaic has also gone out of her way to make sure I’m comfortable and settling in well. There are a few classmates that I’ve also been talking with daily, mainly this sweet if a tad clumsy boy, Neville Longbottom and a girl in my year from another House, Hufflepuff the house of the loyal and hard-working, her name is Leanne Moon and she was already friends with Katie so we have seen more of each other outside of our shared classes in Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Speaking of classes, the workload is obscenely simple, however it seems at least once an hour someone, whether a professor or student, will off-handedly mention a concept or notion so trivial to them they need not elaborate but that morsel of knowledge will fully upend my current grasp on magic. I feel as if on the precipice of a great chasm of information and by virtue of being Muggleborn; I am so far behind the rest of my peers who are familiar with the endless bounds in witchcraft and wizardry.
Transfiguration continues to amaze me, Professor McGonagall says she is thoroughly impressed with how well I’m taking to the theory and application. Charms have been limited to theory so far and I fear I’ve read too far ahead and performed too many of the spells on the curriculum for this year that I’ve begun asking for too many clarifications or elaborations on the theory because some of the Slytherins in my class have begun to roll their eyes every time I raise my hand. D.A.D.A. is fascinating but the Professor is unfortunately afflicted with a stutter and a disposition possessed of immense anxiety. Potions is taught by a master of the art, Severus Snape, the man supposedly had the skill to be the most requested Potion seller in the country but for some reason has restricted himself to the teaching of underage Wix, whom he seems to not entirely be fond of, so far he’s made Neville cry twice and harassed Harry Potter for not knowing the answers for a few simple ingredient questions.
Astronomy was… I don’t have words for it, we could see the ENTIRE sky, all of it, nothing to block the whole of the heavens from our view. It was - well magical feels redundant, captivating existentially moving might be closer.
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.” - Nature and Selected Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Dad, you'll be glad to learn that Hogwarts boasts the third largest collection of magical tomes in Europe, only beaten by another school on the continent and a massive archive in Greece. And before you ask, yes! You have been right, the library of Alexandria does still exist; apparently the decline and destruction of the tower was a deliberate attempt to obscure the true nature of the ancient archive and allow it to be used exclusively by Wix. From what I gather so far, The Library is sometimes referred to as Alburj or the Tower in Arabic, and it is the largest collection of magical texts in the world. So I guess I owe you that 10 quid you bet me when I was seven, what a silly bet to lose nearly five years later.
My History of Magic professor is an actual ghost though an infectual lecturer but the textbook he teaches from has a whole host of fascinating historical accounts that change the context of the known events in Muggle textbooks. I shall endeavor to find more interesting examples and keep you informed; if there’s a specific time period or historical figure you would like me to investigate, feel free to ask.
Mum, I think you would be delighted to know that Herbology is a very physically demanding subject but worth it for the (still metaphorical so far) fruits of our labor. So far we have been covering potting and soil techniques, it’s more basic information that Professor Sprout says is vital in the practice of Herbology as a whole but I already know all of this so it’s more about getting into the habit of gardening. I’m sending a list of plants that are available in Muggle stores that are used in magical applications to add to the garden, if you are interested in planting those.
Alright, Fred is still watching me write this letter while tapping his foot and I assume I’m either wasting his time or he wants something so I will send another letter when I have more to say. Say hello to the Monsignor for me since I will miss both my birthday and Michaelmas and if Aunt Ophie asks how my “preparatory Academy for highly advanced pupils” is going tell her that it’s so far so good.
Love, Hermione.
✶♥✶♥✶
Saturday, September 7th, 1991
“You write impressively fast, Granger.”
“Thank you,” Hermione signed her name at the bottom of her letter to her parents and then clicked the pen. “I also type rather quickly.”
“Type?”
“Do you know what either a typewriter or a computer are?” Hermione looked up from her letter atop the bench at Fred.
He was leaning on the stone archway that separated the roofed nesting room from the open aviary, his arms crossed over his chest. Since it was Saturday, he was in his casual clothes, unlike many in the school; he and George seemed to prefer Muggle clothing. He was currently sporting an orange and brown striped tee shirt and the same grey khakis he wore on the train.
Fred shook his head, “No clue, although does a computer have a thing to do with computations, like Arithmancy?”
“Close,” Hermione waved a hand over the paper to dry the ink, “Once upon a time, it referred to the job of manually computing mathematical equations, but nowadays a computer is a physical machine.”
Hermione folded her letter up and then placed it in the envelope Fred had given her earlier, “Think of it as a box that can talk to other boxes, they are all connected to each other all as long as you know the number-code… or address I guess, of the computer you want to talk to. Well, part of the way you can do that is by typing on a keyboard, which is a set of smaller buttons with every letter and punctuation mark on it; if you press one button, you can write that letter down. The faster you press buttons, the faster you type.”
“Hmm?!” Fred made an intrigued sound as he unfolded his arms, “How do the boxes, the computers, talk to each other?”
“Like I said they are connected,” Hermione wrote her parents address on the envelope and then wrote her name rather large where the return address would go so that they knew who sent the owl, “Every computer is plugged into an electrical outlet but also it’s sort of plugged into this internet outlet too. As long as the internet is plugged in and assembled correctly, the computer is able to access the— well, it’s literally called the World Wide Web, so I’ll use the metaphor of a spider's web. If one point of the web is one computer, the next is another, and so on, the more points and connections, the more computers. When the spider moves around the web, the information from one computer makes its way around the internet to another computer.”
“So there's only one (metaphorical) information spider?”
“Honestly?” Hermione sealed the envelope and stood up from the bench, “There are only a few, computers are rather slow and get overwhelmed quickly. If you’re rich enough to have one in your house, you can’t really use it if someone else in the house is doing something on the landline, and it’s even slower a little after school lets out. And for the average user, if you’re using one at a cafe or library when everyone else is, it's even slower.”
“How many computers are there?” Fred watched her as she went to the owl he pointed out earlier, Malakbel, who had a chest of creamish brown and a back of bark grey, “They sound like the letter version of the Floo.”
“The flu?”
“Ah,” Fred gasped, “You don’t know what the Floo is?!”
“Well, I know what influenza is,” Hermione quirked an eyebrow, “But I’m assuming it's a messaging system for Wix, not a category of infectious diseases.”
“Close,” Fred walked over to her to reach a hand into Malakbel’s alcove for the bird to perch on his finger, “It’s more of a transportation method. Step in, call out your destination address, throw down a powder and turn up there. But you can also just call the location instead of stepping in.”
“Interesting,” Hermione looked at the small owl on Fred’s hand, a curious look in his eyes, “So how do we send the letter?”
“Well, Malakbel here will take the letter from here to your parents.” Fred walked the owl and Hermione over to the open-air portion of the Owlery. “You can ask any owl to go to a certain place or deliver to a certain person, but you can also task them with doing something. Like, he will stay in your garden so your parents can send a letter back. You can also ask him to watch out for packages or come back if something happens.”
“Okay,” Hermione nodded, returning her attention to the bird as she outstretched the letter in her hand and the owl took it from her gently, “Malakbel, can you take this letter to my mother and father? I’d appreciate it if you could stay until they can send a letter back. Feel free to hunt whatever prey you find.”
The owl preened at her, opening one wing to motion her closer. Hermione reached a hand to the owl, and he pushed his head into her palm. “They are so much smarter than wild owls,” Hermione noted aloud.
“They are considered Athena’s flock,” Fred confirmed, “All wizarding owls are, they aren’t quite normal owls. They move much faster and are wicked intelligent, they can also be quite aggressive if not given the proper amount of attention, but they don’t really need to be trained.”
“Wow,” Hermione stroked Malakbel’s feathers, “Does that mean Athena is real? Like, these are actually her messenger flock?”
“You’d have to ask Alicia,” Fred smiled at the girl next to him, talk about a fascinating creature. “She’s a follower of Circe and Athena and all them.”
“The Greek Pantheon?”
“Yeah, that.”
“What faith do you follow?” Hermione asked before realizing that might not be a good question, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all,” Fred shook his head and Malakbel let out a chirp, “I guess the Irish Pantheon, or well, more the Celtic thing altogether, I recognize the rest though.”
“Is that common?” Hermione looked up at him, “I’ve heard quite a few people mention Circe and Hecate, but then also Merlin and Morgana, but I was under the impression the latter two were just a story, not a mythology of their own.”
“ No ,” Fred shook his head very fast, and Malakbel squawked and flew off, “Even Malakbel agrees. No, Merlin was very much real.”
“So I’ve gathered,” Hermione frowned, “You didn’t answer the question though.”
“Which was?”
“Is it common to recognize multiple systems of faith as a Wix?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Fred nodded, “Almost everyone believes in the Fates and Magic herself.”
“The embodiment of Magic is a woman?”
“Of course She is,” Fred laughed as he put an arm around her shoulder and walked her back down the Owlrey steps, “But yeah, most people know the Greek gods, prefer them over the Roman ones for some reason. You’ll hear Merlin and Morgana talked about in the same vein, but the Founders are also worshiped to a certain extent.”
“How does that work? Weren’t they just people?”
“Oh sure,” Fred stopped as they got to the middle of the west tower, then pointed out a long, thin window, “Look out that window and tell me what you see.”
Hermione went to the window, it was a beautiful view of the castle and grounds. Below, there were students on brooms in the distance and many groups dotting the field below. She could see some walking the halls of the main castle and the other towers.
“The castle grounds, lots of students on the green. And the castle itself.”
“Uh-huh,” Fred leaned against the wall, “What else?”
“The forest? The trees seem to go on forever.”
“Good-good,” Fred nodded, “Anything else?”
“Um, there’s a good amount of students on brooms.”
“That would be the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff pickup-Quidditch game,” Fred said.
“Okay, so what do you want me to see?”
“The magic of the castle.”
“Huh?”
“Look at it again,” Fred turned his face a bit to face out the window and then pointed just above the roof of the main castle, “Look very closely.”
Hermione leaned into the open window a bit, Fred held her inside, but she was able to get a good look then she saw what he meant there was a ripple or wave of something just above the roof. “Oh, is that the wards?”
“No, but you’re forgiven for the assumption, but wards are mostly invisible,” Fred leaned back into the wall, “That’s the magic radiating from the castle, it’s infused into the very stones and wood that built the thing. The Founders were masters of Architectural Charms, two women and two men equally skilled in a variety of schools of study, came together so they could teach these subjects to all the students in Britannia.”
“In the late 900s,” Hermione nodded as she already knew this, “Doesn’t explain why someone would worship them.”
“Well, They weren’t just masters of their respective fields, they were… they were embodiments of the very concepts. Many believe Morgana was an ancestor of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff was some wood nymph, and that Gryffindor may have been Merlin himself or possibly his son. Slytherin often claimed to have the blood of a God in his veins, but the god in question changed. I think the standard was Hades or Poseidon.”
“Do you believe any of that?”
“Maybe the Poseidon bit,” Fred cracked a smile, “He was a slimy guy.”
There were footsteps and some whispering and then they were joined on the spiral steps by Calum Garmhaic, clad in simple grey slacks and a black shirt, and Adrian Pucey, a tall fair-skinned boy with short brown hair in a nice set of forest green robes.
“What's the craic?” Calum greeted Fred.
“All good here,” Fred leaned back into the wall again and folded his arms.
Adrian looked at Fred with a smile, “Weasley, where’s the other one of ya?”
“Somewhere on the pitch watchin’ the Raven’s headhunt with Lee,” Fred smiled at the Slytherin, he was one of the only Snakes he could stand talking to, “I assume you’re not on the pitch for a reason Garmhaic.”
“I prefer to put my head in the clouds in a strictly metaphorical sense,” Calum had a lilt in his voice that betrayed his lack of interest in the game. He then turned to look at Hermione, “And who might this be?”
“Hermione Granger,” Hermione extended her hand to Calum, who shook it, then Adrian, who waited a moment but returned the handshake. “Fred was helping me send a letter to my parents.”
“Never send a letter before?” Calum asked with a smile still plastered on his face.
“Not with an owl, no,” Hermione shook her head, “Aside from my Hogwarts letter, I’ve never received one either.”
“Muggleborn?!” Adrian’s eyes went a bit wide, “No one warned you to stay away from the Weasleys yet then?”
“Laz Carix did,” Hermione said, which must have been funny because all three boys laughed, “What?”
“Course he would,” Calum cracked up with a wider smile, “His one dream in life is to figure out how the Twins do the stupid shit they do.”
“Hey,” Fred reached forward and bracketing Hermione’s head and boxed her ears in, “Careful! She’s a fucking firstie. No cursing!”
Adrian and Calum laughed at that, Hermione just shook her head so that Fred would let go.
“So you’ve adopted a shadow or what?” Adrian asked Fred.
“Less adoption, more experiment,” Fred put his arm around her shoulder again, “Little Miss Granger here has correctly guessed which Twin is which now sixteen times.”
“Wooooo,” Calum whistled, “This is the bird that beat Lee’s record?!”
Adrian half bowed to her, “Hail to the queen, that’s amazing! How many times has she gotten wrong?”
“I haven’t yet,” Hermione said with a bit of a smile, “I’m starting to think you are all being dramatic about this.”
“See?!” Fred pointed at her dramatically, “She’s just so fascinating, this requires experimentation and worth endless investigation!”
“Quite right, Weasley,” Calum nodded, “How do you know which is which?”
“The robes and fidgeting,” Hermione said all matter of fact, “Fred can’t seem to tie his robes to save his life.”
“Oi, I can hear you,” Fred rocked her side-to-side.
“Oh, she can go toe-to-toe with a Terror Twin can she?”
“She’s very good, Pucey, in fact, she’s possibly the best,” Fred ruffled her hair causing the curls to fall in her face, two fingers of his being ensnared in the mess of brown, “A wild thing I’ve captured and as said previously, am now dissecting piece by piece.”
Hermione didn’t love being compared to a test monkey, for multiple reasons. She didn’t say anything about it, but her smile returned to a neutral glare at being both complimented and insulted within the span of only a sentence.
“Well, better lock that cage,” Adrian said with a laugh, “She might get the idea to bite you, and I don’t think anyone would blame her."
“Too true,” Calum looked back down at the girl, “I’d run away if I were you, Miss Granger.”
“I’m not a runner,” Hermione said as confidently as she could, “Not worth the trouble if all it takes to keep the Twins in line is knowing that Fred can’t stay still for more than thirty seconds.”
“Oh! I’m never letting you go,” Fred wrapped her in a tight hug.
✶♥✶♥✶
Sunday, September 8th, 1991
The next day, Hermione sat alone at the breakfast table, attempting to read more of her History textbook cross-referencing some odd things she noticed from the last couple of chapters. The textbook was often out of chronological order and didn’t make things easier by putting geographical incidents close together, nor making political movements share space, it seemed needlessly discombobulated.
She knew there were substantial gaps in the record of this textbook, but had to sort through the tome by hand because there wasn’t a clear and concise glossary or reference page. All reference material seemed printed on only the relevant page, and many times it was a different edition of the same History of Magic textbook.
She was under the impression that the massive tome that it was now, had been a result of the constant need to update and maintain its status as correct history. It was a decent 13 centimeters in size with tiny print and small wood carvings or printed moving pictures with more recent sections.
This was the only book that had been required reading to the History of Magic class since before Professor Binns took the position, as noted in Hogwarts: A History, the book was required reading at least since 1689. Although it looked like in the 1700s and 1800s prior to Binns' employment, it had supplementary textbooks for third to fifth years, and N.E.W.T. levels always had extra textbooks.
I’ll have to go looking for those supplementary texts as well, assuming they were assigned to go along with this text. They are no doubt outdated now, but if she were lucky, there would be newer editions.
Hermione barely noticed when the dishware appeared, but had moved her plate and bowl to the side to continue reading. She moved her book slightly closer when the breakfast platters arrived a few minutes later, but continued reading uninterrupted. She only realized she was missing her first Hogwarts Sunday breakfast when an envelope hit her book with a loud thud!
She looked up and watched as Hogwarts and student owls flew overhead. Not much mail was sent so far, but today it was nearly twice as many owls as she’d seen in the whole week. She caught the round trip of Malakbel as he fluttered out of the Great Hall.
My parents wrote back!
The envelope was still stamped with the family return-address stamp and had a post stamp in the corner, but her name was clearly written on it.
She picked the envelope up and carefully slid the butter knife next to her through the paper. Opening it up revealed two separate letters, one her mother's good letter-writing paper, the other a torn college-ruled notepad paper. She shook her head at the image of her mother composing a thoughtful letter in the sitting room and her father hastily ripping a page out of his notebook to pen down all the silly things her mother wouldn’t add to the letter.
She went to prepare herself a cup of tea and grabbed a bagel with generous cream cheese to enjoy while she read.
The nice letter was on the rosy-pink paper her mother normally only used to send letters to her own mother and occasionally old university friends. It was smooth in Hermione’s hands and folded oh so gently, and when unfolded, revealed her mother's small, cursive handwriting.
Dear My Goodly Lady Hermione,
Your father and I were beginning to wonder if you had forgotten us in your fancy new school with your new magical friends. I am joking of course. I know you could never forget your father’s jovial nonsense or my wise words of wisdom.
I do hope you are settling in fine, your letter mentioned that the castle was not exactly Euclidian in its architecture so I pray you aren’t being spun around like a MC Esher sketch and continue to have a sense of gravity and relational awareness of your surroundings. When in doubt hugging the wall and laying yarn will lead you out of the labyrinth, but never forget to change your sails on the way across the seas.
Theseus aside, I am glad to hear the castle meets my arbitrary expectations of medieval extravagance, but with that unique touch of whimsy only achievable by real magic. Is it strange that your father, and I need now denote real and faux magic or the mundane—the Muggle, as your professor put it? I am sure you will notice many discrepancies in your time in that world of wizards, witches, and whatnot.
I hope there is still wonder in the divine after your year in the magical let alone the complete seven years of education. What I know of history says educational universities of the middle ages were mostly consistent of monasteries and grand libraries. If you are living in such a place year round will the cathedral be the same level of awe-inspiring as it was before? What am I worried about, if my daughter is involved in something it will always strike awe.
You were right to mention talking to Monsignor Leonard, he was upset at your absence last Sunday and this Wednesday. I can only imagine how he will take it when he realizes he will now be limited to Christmas, Easter and the summer services we will be in the city for. He made sure to tell me to congratulate you for getting into an esteemed preparatory Academy even if it is north of the border (his words). He was beginning to wonder if your advanced academic qualities were going unnoticed and unappreciated in the school and he was overjoyed for you that it’s been discerned and is being rewarded.
And yes my goodly lady, I am sure you are champing at the bit to inform me that it was not your achievements in academia but your knack for the arcane that got you into the said ‘preparatory Academy for advanced pupils’ but that’s not something Monsignor Leo need know. He did warn me on making too big of a fuss about your new school around the other mothers and not-so-subtly pointed out Elaine Pickett, Heather Calderon and Phyllis McMillan and their mothers. It is still assinane to me that you got in trouble for them teasing you over your hair, sure now we know what caused their skirts to catch fire but at the time Sister Janice had (and to this day has) no evidence that it was your doing! Nevertheless, I held my own against the ladies of the church and their (terrible) offspring and your father was (mostly) well behaved the last two services and I am holding out for good behavior tomorrow (or today when you should get this letter.)
Before I address the rest of your letter I feel the need to point out that in the few hours the owl you sent, Malakbel has de-pested the garden, nary a weevil or mole in sight. Also, are all the owls named for spirits and deities or did that boy you mentioned let you pick one that might throw me and your father for a loop trying to figure out where we had heard the name prior? How do they fly so far so fast for a bird of prey known for its slow and subtle movements? Also how come he was so intelligent, I could have sworn he understood every word I said and even nodded or shook his little head when I asked him questions. It did take your father around three hours to find the bird since he was tapping at the window above the kitchen sink, the curtain had been closed and he had only barely seen the grey talons when he found him. A quiet thing but over all splendid bird, do send him with your letters for the foreseeable future.
Now, on to those acquaintances you mentioned, while your father will advise you not to make friends with boys I am ecstatic about any and all friendships you make. Keep me updated on these upperclassmen and the others in your class. Do not be afraid to share your interests with those around you, explore common ground with those around you and make lasting connections. You know what your Aunt Jeanie would say: Find your tribe!
As for your classes and coursework, I cannot speak for the quality of any of the courses nor their teachers but it’s only the first week so try not to get in over your head about studying (at least until two weeks from now). If magic school is anything like normal school the workload will increase the farther you get into the curriculum and your preparation will be less boredom inducing and more stress saving. Stick to the two and half hours of studying per day and I beg you try and take some time to relax and enjoy yourself.
In other news Samantha and Ophie have already gotten your birthday presents, I am telling you this because I am unsure if I will be able to send the main package. Additionally, I think you would rather have it at home so unfortunately it will have to wait upon your bed for your return. I will not be doing the same with the gift from your father and I but depending on when Rosalind’s and Nana’s gifts turn up they may also be regulated to waiting.
Finally, I just wanted to say that I love you and that whatever comes of this opportunity I am proud of you. My goodly lady: a little witch!
-
Love Mum
Hermione loved the way her mother wrote, she had such a lovely way of weaving a path through her thoughts and feelings that Hermione envied.
Hermione flipped her notebook to a spare page and made a note to let her mother know she’s gotten better at navigating the castle and that she will keep her updated on any developments involving her acquaintances. Not that Hermione expected to really make friends, she was simply not that optimistic in the regard of companionship with those her age.
She also made a note to inform her that she would be taking time to explore her world via the massive, if intimidating, library.
Hermione finished her bagel before opening the notebook page letter covered in her father's tight but still messy script. Hermione had long ago gotten used to his proclivity towards writing every idea he had on the page. Every fantasy novel she inherited from him served as a record of his lack of concern for what the writing slab was, margins full of questions and opinions on loosely related topics to the active portion of the book, and the space between lines full of snark. His letters were no less different.
Good News, Daughter O’Mine!
Since your departure north of the border: The dissolution of the Soviet states continues! Leningrad has become St. Petersburg once more. And just this morning The Republic of Macedonia became independent from Yugoslavia.
We are placing bets on the next state to break away, I say Armenia, your darling mother is optimistic for the Ukraine, Ophie says the Turks’ region and Samantha was for Uzbekistan until she learned they had already declared independence on the 31st, so is now for Armenia as well. Please place your bet with knowledge that it’s likely that in the next week we’ll see another state leave the federation.
Bad News Daughter O’Mine!
Remember that rioting in Cardiff we heard about on the TV? Well, just on Tuesday, riots broke out in Birmingham, Dudley, and Oxford. Was this the only negative thing I could find on the radio or papers this week? Well, you wouldn’t know one way or the other, Bunny!
Aside from geo and national politics, I must mail you via a bird of prey that’s also the slowest flyer in the category, I must inform you that you were right to suspect the Monsignor would miss you. He asked us a wealth of questions about your new school, and he seemed proud you’ve been admitted to an academy for gifted children, but warned your mother of the capital P Pride that might come with the territory, you’re to do five Hail Marys in anticipation of getting a big head about it. At least that’s what I understood from the conversation. It seemed the girls of your former school couldn’t stop their praise of God and his works, only when the Monsignor was focused on asking your mother and I the aforementioned questions of great quantity.
I was also queried by no less than nine local librarians of all three of the libraries we frequent, why they hadn’t seen my wonderfully curious daughter, and the hope she wasn’t ill. I informed them of your new opportunity, and they were all so very delighted to hear a girl with such enthusiasm for learning getting her break.
So in so many words: know that everyone misses you and is proud you are receiving an education fit to your skills.
You may be inclined to argue that since no one other than your mother and I knows the truth about the nature of said education but it doesn’t stop their care and respect from being real. I hope to hear more mysterious tapping of that small Malakbel again. Your mother was quite pleased with his de-pesting of the garden.
P.S. - You asked for a research topic of any era I pleased, how about the illuminated manuscripts of alchemists c. 1600s-1700s, any truth to the mystery or just amateur chemistry explained by some eccentric know-it-alls?
P.P.S. - If there’s any research topic you need from home, let me know. I can’t help but notice you didn’t mention any classes for literature or math, and I’m unsure as to the overlap you’ll be getting into most sciences, such as biology, chemistry, and physics.
P.P.P.S. - I’m sure your favorite aunt will be sending your birthday gift of the year soon, given she called last night to confirm your current interests. Feel free to send any letters you want sent to Jean and Marques, and to burn the ones for Ophie, Rosalind, and your grandmother.
Live Long and Prosper, Daughter O’Mine, Your Loving Genetic Maker
Hermione giggled to herself. Of course, her dad would make light of the whole ‘sending my daughter to secret school for the magically gifted’ situation by framing it with updates on the collapse of the Soviet state and his rocky relationship with his in-laws. He was a man confident in his ability to keep everyone in high spirits, even when reminding them of the socio-political landscape of the world; in short, her father was a rascal.
Hermione made a secondary list to make sure to update her father on her current research into Transfiguration and that she’d be sure to make a detour to investigate alchemy further. She’d also make sure to request more mundane astronomy reports, she was vaguely interested in the wealth of information that Wix had over Muggles, specifically in this scientific field. She also made a note to tell him she was hopeful for Ukraine’s independence, but expected the next to succeed would probably be Tajikistan, as it is the neighbor of Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, which would follow a sort of ironic twist on the domino theory.
✶♥✶♥✶
Monday, September 9th, 1991
Incidentally, the following Monday morning, Ronald’s ears were twice as long and his nose had taken on a rather saggy appearance.
“FRED! GEORGE!” Ron walked very briskly over to the twins, “What the bloody hell?!”
“LANGUAGE, WEASLEY!” Moira was all the way at the end of the table.
“Yeah,” Laz was sitting next to Gerard and Percy, who were next to the Twins and Lee or Oliver Wood and Pike Davis respectively, “Only prefects get to yell at the Twins!”
“Why the long face, Ronniekins?” Fred was grinning so much it nearly hurt.
“Shut up!” Ron’s face was going ruddy alongside the disfigurement, “Whatever you two did, take it back!”
“We didn’t do anything,” George said before taking a drink of his tea.
“Yeah,” Fred agreed, “We’re totally innocent.”
“What did you do?” Percy narrowed his eyes on the Twins.
“Nothing, wizard’s honor,” George said, “Ask Lee, we were in bed by five to nine, and didn’t leave the dorms till we came down to bug Laz and Gerry.”
“He’s not wrong, Percy,” Lee confirmed his alibi, “Kenneth and Egbert were with us too.”
“Oh,” Percy was pleasantly surprised, “So who messed with Ronald?”
“Not I says me,” George said as he discreetly looked for Hermione at the table to see if she was within earshot of the conversation, “Maybe Ronnie pissed someone else off.”
“Language,” Percy warned.
“Yeah-yeah,” Fred shook his head, “I’m going with Gred, must have someone else, who’d you upset recently?”
“No one!” Ron looked incredibly disgruntled, his cheeks a bright candy red from yelling, “It’s only the second week!”
“Man,” Oliver covered his ears, given that the kid was practically screaming in his ear, “Not a surprise you’re related to the Twins.”
“I resent that,” Fred said.
“Sorry, dear brother, but he’s very provably a brother to us,” George patted Fred’s shoulder, he finally spotted Hermione sat at the end of the table with Moira and a few other older Gryffindor girls alongside Neville, “Are you positive you did say or do something dumb to another person?”
“No!”
“Think really hard,” Fred prompted, “C’mon Ronniekins, you got this!”
“To be fair to the sad sod,” Pike grimaced looking at Ron over his shoulder then to the Twins, “How often do you remember everyone you slighted?”
“Every time-“
“-Every one-“
“-Every where-“
“-Constantly,” George finished, “We keep a list and everything.”
“And another list with everyone who's ever wronged us,” Fred smiled.
“Yeesh,” Pike hissed in a breath.
Harry Potter walked into the hall and as soon as he spotted Ron, he walked up to the group, “There you are, figured it out yet?”
“Nope,” Oliver popped the end of the word, “Also ‘ello, Harry.”
“Hello,” Harry waved at the group, then looked at the Twins, “So you guys didn’t do it?”
“No,” Fred tutted, “No clue, maybe his face just does that naturally, have you gone to Poppy yet?”
“No,” Ron scrunched up his face as he frowned, making himself look like a Goblin, “Who is Poppy?”
“Pomphrey,” Gerard said before going back to eating the waffles on his plate.
“The school mediwitch,” Laz explained, “Second floor, the northeast wing.”
“Okay?” Ron sounded confused.
“Alright,” Percy stood up from the table, “I don’t know if this counts as Prefect or Big Brother duty, but it calls, let’s go, Ronald.”
“What?”
“Follow me.”
“What about breakfast?!”
“Grab something to go and follow me,” Percy motioned to the palter of doubts. Ron nodded and grabbed the whole thing, “Not what I meant, but let’s go.”
Percy walked away with Ron and Harry following after him, when they were finally out of earshot, Oliver asked, “So did you guys actually do it?”
“Oh, totally,” Fred nodded.
“Hit him with the ear extending jinx on Friday, it adds a millimeter of length every six hours,” George explained.
“And last night I left a bon-bon with the nose growth potion inside it on the table in the back of the common room,” Fred continued as George nodded.
“Only Ronniekins is foolish enough to eat abandoned sweets.”
“Why?” Laz asked, but when Fred twisted his tips like he was locking up a secret, he added, “Just wanna know, no trouble to me.”
“You are too chill to be an effective prefect,” Gerard laughed.
“Thank you, Gerry.”
“You’re so very welcome.”
“He’s being very rude to a girl in his class,” George sighed, “Shame is, I don’t think he even realizes it.”
“Keeps rolling his eyes or huffing whenever she’s talking,” Fred elaborated the point, “Sure, she talks a lot and rather fast, but she’s just a very excitable little firecracker.”
“That Granger bird?” Laz asked, “The one with the awful hair?”
“Watch it Carix,” Lee pointed at the older boy, “She’s never been taught how to deal with the extra build up of mana, her hairs too kinky for Sleekeasy’s to work without using like a stone worth of the stuff and it doesn’t look like she even knows where to start with it.”
“Thought about it much, Jordan?” Oliver teased.
“Yeah,” Lee shrugged, “Listen, Angie talks about hair care all the damn time and there are only so many other black kids here. Hermione’s working from a disadvantage, being a Muggleborn too. At least I had my parents and Kazie to help tame the dreads. And Angie and her mum are wicked with their own locks.”
“How come Johnson’s not fixed Granger up then?” Gerard asked.
“How would I know?” Lee rolled his eyes, realizing he was becoming the mouthpiece for his demographic and wanting to rein it back to the point, “In the long run, it’s Hermione’s hair; if she doesn’t want to go messing with it, then she shouldn’t be forced to.”
“Amen,” George said, finished with his food, he stood up, “I’ll be right back.”
Fred sent a questioning fog down the bond, and all he got in response was pure sunshine. It was a good thing then, “Want backup?”
“No,” George shook his head, “Just a detour before we can go back to the common room.”
Fred watched George’s eyes dart to Hermione, “Ah, yeah okay, have fun.”
“Yup.”
“What’s that about?” Gerard asked Fred, every one of the guys watched George walk calmly down to the end of the table, and scooch in between Moira and Hermione. Moira glared at George and they couldn’t make out what she had said but she looked like she was annoyed.
“He too is watching Granger,” Fred waved his hand dismissively, “Thinks she’s neat, which she is. Wicked smart that girl.”
“Really?” Pike asked, “Not just saying that because she can tell you two apart?”
Fred watched Hermione nod at something George said and then proceeded to give him a wide smile. She was delighted by whatever was being discussed. “Probably the smartest person I ever met, and you all know Bill. She’s like a sponge, you only need to mention something once, and she’ll lock it away forever; she’s absorbing information at a rapid pace.”
“High praise,” Pike whistled a bit
“Careful now,” Gerard reached over to push Fred’s shoulder, “Someone might think you have a heart and a brain.”
“Got both, Garmhaic,” Fred’s smile dulled, “I’m not pulling your leg or anything. I mean it, she’s something special and I’m just following George’s lead because whatever powers she got now,” he whistled, “Gonna skyrocket in the coming years.”
“ You’re saying she’s got potential?” Oliver asked, “Anything specific?”
Fred immediately thought of the pinkish-brown rock in the pocket of his trousers from Tuesday, laying somewhere crumpled at the foot of his bed. I should check on it, see her ability firsthand.
“Lots of it,” Lee nodded quickly, “She’s great at everything, but she’s apparently brilliant at Transfiguration.”
“Minnie seems to think so,” Fred jerked his head to motion toward McGonagall, “Not to mention the Miss Garmhaic you may have noticed adopting her, plus the bird can spout a fact she learned word-for-word after skimming the chapter. I’d be surprised if she couldn’t brew a potion from memory alone, even if she only read it once.”
“Oh,” Gerard’s eyes went wide, “You like… respect her.”
“I didn’t know the Twins could do that,” Laz’s brow puckered.
“It’s been strange for sure,” Lee nodded, “Sometimes I think they might replace me with the newer shinier model.”
“Play your cards right and you can still be in third place,” Fred joked, “Maybe fourth if Ginny stays as cool as she is, sent her a toilet seat from Moanin’ Myrtle’s bathroom, shrunk it down she wrote back with a ‘thank you for my doll’s new throne’, hilarious.”
“Talking about Gin’s letter?” George returned to his seat between Fred and Lee.
“Yup.”
“She said we didn’t even have to enlarge it,” George said with a smile, “Smart girl.”
“Heard you two have a new muse,” Pike raised an eyebrow while looking at George.
“I wouldn’t say you’re far off,” George looked down at Hermione, Moira was still glaring at him, “Gerry, your sister wants me dead, I think.”
“If Mo wanted you dead you’d be dead.”
“Ah,” Fred gasped, “Don’t drink or eat anything near her, Georgie, she’s so close with the elves we’ll never see it coming when they poison the food!”
“Wouldn’t that mean she’d have to know where you’ll sit every day?” Lee asked as he laughed a little, “Or risk poisoning everyone.”
“She has her ways,” Laz grimaced.
✶♥✶♥✶
Hermione met George outside the Gryffindor common room. He’d asked her to join him, Angelina, and Alicia to see the meteor shower, and she was overjoyed at the invitation.
When George pushed open a false wall to collect the witches he was escorting to the Astronomy tower, she was surprised to learn there was a staircase that led directly to the Transfiguration classroom, the floor below.
“When in doubt, if there’s Transfiguration or McGonagall, there is a secret passageway,” George explained, pointing out a little drawing of a cat on the wallpaper that covered the hidden door. “She marks her territory.”
“Oh,” Hermione reached up to the small cat figure on the wall, it darted out of the way of her finger, but when she touched the wall, it curled up on top of her hand, “How does the drawing work? I saw it in her classroom and office, too.”
“You were in her office?”
“Before dinner on Wednesday, I had a wealth of free time before Astronomy, and I had finished the essay book she let me borrow, so we went over theory, and she recommended more titles to go over and recommended talking with seventh-year students who have a focus on Transfiguration.”
“How’s that going?” George leaned into the closed door.
“The head boy, Tiarnan, said he’d being willing to tutor me on the condition that I not tell anyone,” Hermione whispered, “I got the impression he wasn’t a fan of being named as my best starting point, he made a point that he refuses to and I quote ‘dumb anything down just because you are a muggleborn, cailin beag’ unquote so I don’t know if I’m going to stick with him.”
“Anyone else able to talk with you?” George watched the girl start to pick at her nails like she always did when nervous.
“Wil Benson,” Hermione thought the girl was interesting if a tad eccentric, “But she’s specifically studying for her Animagus license and her focus is in Human Transmutation, I wanted to get more information on the topic as a whole but I don’t want to pass up the opportunity for a good study.”
“Fair,” George nodded.
Before Hermione could ask if he knew anyone that might be a good fit, Hermione was crushed into a hug from Alicia, “Hermione! I’m so glad you’re joining us for the meteor shower!”
“Really?” Hermione’s shock was mostly smothered in Alicia’s pretty red sweater.
“Absolutely!”
“She’s been excited to watch the shower since Thursday,” Angelina came out of the common room behind Alicia, “Hello, Hermione.”
“Hello,” Hermione managed to just barely get her head over Alicia’s tight hug, “When do the sixth years leave for Astronomy?”
“They leave a bit earlier than you’d expect,” George watched the foot traffic in the hallway, it was a few minutes before curfew so they technically should wait for a prefect to escort them, “Around 10 instead of midnight, and sometimes they stay ‘till dawn, same with seventh years.”
“Speaking of seventh years,” Angelina said, pointing to Moir, who was coming down the hallway, dragging Fred behind her by his ear, “What did he do?”
“Took the fall for the explosion in the west wing bathroom,” George whispered to his friends, and Moira came to a stop in front of them. “Moira, how lovely to see you!”
“Cut the crap, Weasley,” Moira’s voice was so tense her accent slipped to full Cork, “You and your blasted twin needs stop acting the maggot! Now just where do you four think you’re goin’?”
“The Astronomy Tower,” Hermione said, smiling up at Moira, “Professor Sinistra said anyone that wants to can stop by to watch the Zenith of the meteor shower.”
“Aye, I remember,” Moira nodded her anger draining fast, she kept a hold on Fred’s ear though, he was taller than her by more than a few inches so he had to bend down to keep his ear from being yanked off, “You need an escort, I assume?”
“If you please,” Alicia said, smiling at Moira (and Fred’s discomfort).
“Course,” Moira nodded as she turned around and led the group down the hallways a few turns to the corridor that led to the Astronomy Tower. When they reached the end of the corridor, they saw Professor Sinistra talking with a few sixth-year students outside of her office.
“Miss Garmhaic,” Sinistra greeted Moira, “Is there a reason you have Mister Weasley by the ear?”
“Punishment,” Moira grinned, “McGonagall told me to take 20 points and do with him as I pleased, and this pleases me greatly.”
“I would appreciate it if you let go of the boy before ascending the stairs, it can be tricky to walk up with just a telescope in hand, let alone a one and half meter long lanky student.”
“Are we allowed to go up now?” Alicia asked as she peeked over Moira’s shoulder.
“Yes, but first you must sign in,” Sinistra pointed to the weekly sheet for Astronomy Club, “Around midnight, that list is sent to Dumbledore so he knows how many students are in my protection.”
“Will any Professors be joining us?” Fred asked, still being held hostage.
“Albus has been known to make an appearance or four,” Sinistra smiled at the group. A few more students arrived, and behind them was in fact Dumbledore himself, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
“Lovely night, Aurora,” Dumbledore parted the growing crowd to stand next to the professor, “And may I say that shade of magenta really complements your skin tone.”
“You may.” Sinistra laughed at his playful demeanor, “You may also inform Miss Garmhaic that corporal punishment isn’t necessary in my tower.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with that odd expression he always gained when he found something so very special, “Now what’s the reason for this?” He gestured to Moira’s hand, pulling Fred’s ear level with her shoulder, “I do hope the reason is good.”
“Weasley here ignited fireworks in the fifth-floor wizard’s toilets,” Moira’s accent returned in full force as she hissed out the accusation, “Not to mention the fire he started because of said fireworks.”
“And so the punishment is cutting blood circulation to his left ear?”
“McGonagall said I was to do with him as I pleased,” Moira smiled grimly at the Headmaster, “And since I was only able to remove 20 points, I dragged him up the five flights and back to the commons but then these guys,” she gestured with her free hand to George, Angelina, Alicia and Hermione, “Wanted an escort to here.”
“Is it his punishment to watch the meteor shower?” Dumbledore was clearly getting a kick out of this.
“Now it is!”
“Grand!” Dumbledore clasped his hands tightly and ushered the group to the stairs, his wand slipped into his hands. Not a moment later, the names of all the students not in sixth year were on the sign-in sheet for the Astronomy Club, “Follow me all!”
“What a strange man,” Hermione whispered to herself.
“Loony in his own right,” George agreed.
Hermione was mildly embarrassed at being heard, but followed after the Headmaster with George walking in step with her as they started the long walk up the steps. They had about five to seven people in front of them and twenty or so behind, so it was a slow climb.
George sighed and looked down at Hermione, “Favorite constellation?”
“It is probably cheating since she’s my astrological sign but Virgo,” a smile overtook Hermione, “I remember the first time my Dad took me out to the countryside so I could actually see her, he also made up a bunch of fake constellations to test if I would know, I did believe in the Monkey and his Drums for a few days before getting ahold of a massive star chart at the library with my Mum.”
“You’re a Virgo?”
“September 19th, 2:34 in the morning,” Hermione nodded then laughed, “Funnily enough, I was born at St. George’s.”
George laughed so hard he had to grab ahold of Hermione’s arm to stop from falling.
“Oi,” Fred’s voice came from above them on the steps, “Stop killin’ my twin, Granger!”
“Shut it, Weasley,” Moira’s hiss came from a little further up.
“What’s so funny?” Laz was apparently somewhere below them and behind Alicia and Angelina.
“Hermione was born a hospital named St. George’s.”
“It’s one of the largest hospitals in Europe actually,” Hermione had a hard time trying not to laugh herself, “I only just realised it was a funny coincidence.”
“No such thing as a coincidence,” Alicia laughed.
“Oh there she goes again,” George was still laughing a little.
“Everything occurs for a reason,” Alicia’s tone was light.
Hermione giggled, “What possible reason is there?”
“Unsure,” Alicia looked up at Hermione then at George, “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
“Please do,” George shook his head, “Something tells me it’s gonna involve a close examination of our birth-charts.”
“Says the Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon, Gemini Rising!”
“Those things aren’t real, Spinnet!” Fred yelled for George.
“I think I’m actually a Taurus Rising,” George told Hermione.
“I’ll be honest, I don't understand Astrology.”
“It’s advanced stuff,” George shrugged.
“Advanced stuff your brother doesn’t believe in clearly,” Hermione quirked her mouth to the side.
“My other brother, Bill, believes in it,” George paused, “And I think Percy does too.”
“Hmm, is it a real thing? Or better yet do you believe in it?”
“Not sure,” George shrugged again, “Alicia and Bill both seem to think there’s merit, but Fred thinks it’s all wishwash.”
“I asked if you believed in it.”
“That you did.”
There were only a handful of people at the top of the tower when George and Hermione exited the stairwell, along with the Headmaster, a scattering of students, mostly Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, stood near the balustrade looking up at the streaks of light in the night sky. Whatever enchantment was on the tower to allow them to see so many stars made the comets truly shine.
Dumbledore stood in the middle of the tower with his hands folded behind his back as he took in the darkness of the night. He seemed the very picture-perfect archetype of a Wizard in the Tower. It almost seemed wrong to see him at such close proximity and in person, not on the cover of a fantasy novel.
Hermione did her best not to stare at the famous Headmaster. She found herself scanning the crowd rather than the stars and meteors, small groups clustered by the parapets, and hung on to the railings to secure a decent view.
Moira had finally released Fred’s ear in favor of standing near an older Ravenclaw girl, pointing out a few things in the sky and then back at the book in the other girl’s hands.
Fred snuck away to join Hermione and George, rubbing the ear that Moira had pinched as he said, “Don’t let her sweet talk you, she’s a menace.”
“One could say that about us too.”
“You did get into trouble,” Hermione pointed out.
“This is true,” Fred leaned his head into his hand to further soothe the pain, “But does that really mean she needs to take my head off about it?”
“Yes,” Alicia joined the three as she and Angelina emerged from the stairwell.
The shooting stars above glowed in radiant turquoises and lime greens as they struck the atmosphere in waves.
“Your first Hogwarts meteor shower,” Fred leaned into Hermione, “You're supposed to make a wish.”
“Is that true?”
“Yup,” Fred popped the ‘p’, “Whatever you like, just one wish, always comes true.”
“That cannot be true,” Hermione shook her head, “Also don’t you hate astrology?”
“Yeah, but this is real magic that is real.”
“Very convincing,” Hermione looked back up at the meteors, “Anything? And it will come true?”
“Hmm.” Fred nodded.
“Alright then,” Hermione closed her eyes and folded her hands in front her, I wish to know as much about magic as possible. I want to stop being so dumbstruck by things in the Wixen world.
“Wish for anything fun?” George leaned into her other side.
“I think so,” Hermione nodded.