Next Station: Dover Errand

3 March, '26

Ma chère mère, Fr. "My dear mother" dragi moj oče, Hr. "My dear father"

How is Dover? Are the seagulls still attacking our house? I tried to read the script for this season's play. I'm afraid it's too heavy for me. My God, or as they call it around here, Merlin's Beard! Why do you let me read such things? The script is full of suicide and alcoholism from beginning to end. You have to remember every now and then that I'm an eleven-year-old kid.

Let me tell you a little about myself and my life here. Though I'm not entirely sure whether you are worried about your son, or if you see him as some kind of an antagonist who is embarked on a great adventure. But, surely, Hogwarts must still feel a little strange to you, even after these past few months. That's largely true even for me, despite being a resident of the castle.

First of all, I'm making new friends here. I guess that's the whole point of school, right? As you often like to remind me, without this socialising aspect, the education system would just be a repressive mechanism. There's a boy here named Artie. A real Mancunian. I really enjoy listening to his accent. He recently recited a passage from Tolkien's Hobbit to me from memory. Can you believe it? I think you should hire him for the theatre after graduation. He's very promising. He told me that he was often bullied at his old Muggle school, and I assured him they would not dare do that here. I don't know exactly what I'm basing that on. I'm not exactly the sturdiest boy ever. But friends look out for each other, or at least they promise to - right?

As my father would know better, the Muslim world is currently observing Ramadan. Going without food or drink until sunset is a serious act of devotion. How difficult it would be to restrain myself if I knew there was a pack of Haribo in the drawer! Respect! Hogwarts also had some events. Basically, we tried to make lanterns by painting things. Ah, I observe a perverse interest in decorating here. It sometimes seems like the students are more preoccupied with decorating this or that than with casting spells. I'm tired of seeing creative witches and wizards running around with piles of paper and glue piled up in their laps all week. In a way, it's like the plastic arts department of a conservatory.

I needed a certain amount of help to complete my lantern. I don't want to bore you with technical details, but I needed a charm that I hadn't yet managed to cast. (Yes, I'm still a bit academically lazy, and I'm terribly proud of it - after all, it's your legacy!) I asked a witch named Maisie for help. To be honest, I've always been terrible at asking for things. I prefer to indulge in my unwavering confidence that I can handle everything on my own. Still, I pushed myself, and thankfully, young Ravenclaw -that's the name of her house- sincerely helped me. I'm glad I managed to overcome my pride a little. (Please tell this to the Dalai Lama, he'll surely be impressed by my superior willpower. Maybe he'll even choose me as his reincarnation?)

A boy named Damien, with unbelievable speed, made a really beautiful drawing of me. You should have seen it! A boy sitting in the Astronomy Tower, watching the stars and drawing... And his last name is Dragonclaw – I'm not kidding. That humbled me so much. I thanked him several times with a wide smile on my silly face and praised his art. I think he liked being compared to Van Gogh. Who wouldn't? (I personally would have been a little suspicious, thinking it implied a future where I would cut off my ear, but that's just me, I guess).

Oh, I almost forgot something very important! I wrote a letter of protest to the Ministry of Magic. Yes, you heard right. Your son is now a political activist. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, hmm? Those tyrants recently arrested one of our professors. Purely because of his race! Can you believe it? The Wizarding World is just as rotten and corrupt as the Muggle world. I have come to my senses thanks to a campaign led by a few upperclassmen. I actually felt like writing a much harsher letter, but the necessity of diplomacy has tempered my words. When will this systemic injustice end, dear parents? It's crystal clear you need to seriously self-reflect on your commitment to leaving us a better world. The work you've done so far hasn't been very impressive.

Also, did I mention I've decided to stage a scene from Angels in America? Two brilliant students have so generously jumped into this ridiculous plan. I really want to make sure I don't let them down, or myself. (We're going to recreate the scene where the ghosts come back to life. Any advice, especially from my mother?) I enjoy taking the time to enable people to do something they are interested in. I think my impatient Croatian genes were defeated by my meticulous maternal heritage in this matter.

Oh, I'm just rambling! And you're the ones who made me this way (I take immense and malicious pleasure in being able to blame you for everything). I'll stop here for now. If there's any news, please let me know. Take care, and I hope your new play is a huge success and that this time you'll go on a world tour, not just in England. Don't laugh - who would have guessed I was a wizard? And a world tour, taking that as a point of reference, doesn't seem unlikely at all. I'd tell you to 'have confidence in yourself' if uttering phrases like a TEDx motivational speaker wouldn't plunge me into deep embarrassment.

Lots of love. And lots of hugs!
RoDoMa