12 Feb 2022, 21:25
A Letter...but from Whom?
February. If she were still in Hogwarts, Jo mused, this would be her third year. She wasn’t behind on her studies, of course. Lady Aithne had made sure of that, hiring fantastic tutors of both magical and mundane studies. No, the magic was coming along quite well, although to be completely fair Potions and Transfiguration were still a difficulty.
Setting aside her tutor’s lengthy Herbology assignment, she stood from her desk and stretched, looking out from the window into the gently falling snow, the streetlights and the cobblestone.
Her mind took her back to a similar snowy day, when she and Rafa had pelted each other with snowballs and climbed trees in the Courtyard together. She laughed at the memory of Rafael’s half-formed snowballs and her dismal climbing attempts. Briefly, she wondered how the Quidditch captain was doing. She hadn’t had much of a chance to say goodbye. Of course, she hadn’t had much of a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Lady Aithne’s decision that the girl would no longer attend the school was sudden and swift, and there was scant time to even apologize to her professors, much less find all of her friends. Of course, in the back of her mind Jo had known it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier when she packed her things and looked back at the castle for the last time.
She had dreaded that ride back. Picking at her vermillion sweater, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, she had tried so hard not to think about Rosie, about Lady Aithne, about all of them. About the place that she had so adamantly claimed was not, and never would be her home. About her room, and the ripped Slytherin posters. About the Higas, and the scrawled letters from Miyo that she did not return.
Her eyes fell upon a tangled lump of aluminum, which to most would appear as nothing but garbage. How brightly that book had burned in her anger! But now the crumpled metal was cold between her fingers; no longer in the gently coiling form of a snake, but an innocent, unassuming blotch.
Placing the lump of metal back at the corner of the desk, the former Gryffindor was just about to return to her studies when the bell in her room rang abruptly; the Lady of the home was requesting her presence.
As her feet pattered down the steps, some of the children stared, while others averted their eyes or pretended not to notice. A young boy she had never seen before offered her a hesitant grin. She tried her best to return it, but the smile never came.
Jo entered her guardian’s room softly, choosing to stand by the door in silence rather than announce her presence or offer an annoyed quip. Lady Aithne returned her silence, not even bothering to look up as she raised one hand, in which the waxy red seal of an owl-delivered message caught the light and sparkled.
As the girl tentatively drew forth to receive it, the heiress scoffed, continuing to write.
“From one of your Hogwarts friends, no doubt. No doubt you’ll answer it; there should be crimson wax and a lion’s head seal in Spencer’s room. But for Merlin’s sake, girl, answer your wretched half-sister.”
Jo raised an eyebrow.
“Both of them. Now go.”
Snatching the letter, the child skittered from the room, running up the stairs as she inspected the writing on the cover.
Setting aside her tutor’s lengthy Herbology assignment, she stood from her desk and stretched, looking out from the window into the gently falling snow, the streetlights and the cobblestone.
Her mind took her back to a similar snowy day, when she and Rafa had pelted each other with snowballs and climbed trees in the Courtyard together. She laughed at the memory of Rafael’s half-formed snowballs and her dismal climbing attempts. Briefly, she wondered how the Quidditch captain was doing. She hadn’t had much of a chance to say goodbye. Of course, she hadn’t had much of a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Lady Aithne’s decision that the girl would no longer attend the school was sudden and swift, and there was scant time to even apologize to her professors, much less find all of her friends. Of course, in the back of her mind Jo had known it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier when she packed her things and looked back at the castle for the last time.
She had dreaded that ride back. Picking at her vermillion sweater, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, she had tried so hard not to think about Rosie, about Lady Aithne, about all of them. About the place that she had so adamantly claimed was not, and never would be her home. About her room, and the ripped Slytherin posters. About the Higas, and the scrawled letters from Miyo that she did not return.
Her eyes fell upon a tangled lump of aluminum, which to most would appear as nothing but garbage. How brightly that book had burned in her anger! But now the crumpled metal was cold between her fingers; no longer in the gently coiling form of a snake, but an innocent, unassuming blotch.
Placing the lump of metal back at the corner of the desk, the former Gryffindor was just about to return to her studies when the bell in her room rang abruptly; the Lady of the home was requesting her presence.
As her feet pattered down the steps, some of the children stared, while others averted their eyes or pretended not to notice. A young boy she had never seen before offered her a hesitant grin. She tried her best to return it, but the smile never came.
Jo entered her guardian’s room softly, choosing to stand by the door in silence rather than announce her presence or offer an annoyed quip. Lady Aithne returned her silence, not even bothering to look up as she raised one hand, in which the waxy red seal of an owl-delivered message caught the light and sparkled.
As the girl tentatively drew forth to receive it, the heiress scoffed, continuing to write.
“From one of your Hogwarts friends, no doubt. No doubt you’ll answer it; there should be crimson wax and a lion’s head seal in Spencer’s room. But for Merlin’s sake, girl, answer your wretched half-sister.”
Jo raised an eyebrow.
“Both of them. Now go.”
Snatching the letter, the child skittered from the room, running up the stairs as she inspected the writing on the cover.
"Out here, the wild ones are taming the fear within me.
Scared to call them my friends and be broken again; Is this hope just a mystical dream?"