Chapter Four
Disclaimer: Not JKR as per.
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"That one, see?"
"Over there, next to the kid with red hair."
"The one with the dreadlocks?"
"Thats the one."
"Slytherin, can you believe it?"
"I heard he learnt to use the killing curse with his eyes."
"I heard he's you-know-who's son"
"My parents told me to make friends with him, they won't be happy."
"Do you think his hair's real?"
"Do you think his scar's real?"
"Did you see him punch that kid last night?"
The whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory with Ron the next day. Pucey led the first years up to the Great Hall in a long, snaking line which irritated Harry, as he had been hoping to do some exploring and discovering.
Hogwarts was a confusing place, and Harry needed to memorise its exact layout as soon as possible. That included a hundred and forty two staircases, two hundred and seventy corridors, a dubious number of floors and a ridiculous number of classrooms. Not to mention three other houses, several towers, a library, kitchen, owlery and hundreds of other miscellaneous rooms. It was very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and the coats of armor could walk.
"This place needs a decent map," Harry muttered to Ron, who agreed fervently.
During breakfast Harry and Ron both wrote letters home, describing their first night and their sorting. Harry suspected his contained slightly different information to Ron's though.
Dear Kingsley and Mad-Eye
Kings, greetings from Hogwarts.
Mad-Eye, it was you who took me to visit Perry and her husband when I was nine, and we all had fish and chips while you discussed the merits of the newly invented age line. Yes, its really me. No, I'm not being forced to write this under duress, and I'm using truth ink so I can't lie - you can check.
Anyway, Hogwarts is fantastic. I was sorted into Slytherin like we expected, and so was Ron Weasley - which no-one expected. I'm quite pleased though, because it gives me a link to the Weasley family, and he seems like a nice enough bloke.
I saw the Malfoys on the platform, but they didn't see me. When I encountered Malfoy Junior, Plan A to make friends with him was impossible, as he was shooting his mouth off about Weasleys and Mudbloods, and so I went with Plan B and blasted him and his friends across the train. He didn't seem to learn, and spouted some crap at dinner too, so I punched him. That worked, he hasn't looked in our direction since. I remembered what you said about making it a short, sharp lesson.
I also encountered Neville Longbottom. He seems very nervous and clumsy, nothing like his parents as you described them. However, he was sorted into Gryffindor which suggests something underneath all that which is much more impressive. I suspect his grandmother has something to do with his nervous demeanour, so I'll work on that this term.
Finally, I met a muggleborn girl called Hermione Granger on the train. Mad-Eye, could you run a background check for me? She's an unknown quantity, as I know nothing about her thus far. However she seemed well-informed, well-researched and intelligent. In fact she seemed so determined to prove herself that I almost expected her to be in Slytherin too. No such luck, she's a Ravenclaw.
So to round it up, as far as allies/friends go, we have Ron Weasley in Slytherin, Hermione Granger in Ravenclaw and Neville Longbottom in Gryffindor. Operation Zoo seems to be coming along fine - I'll work on the badger side of things when I get the chance.
Snape is my head of house. As we discussed, I've been polite. It's pissing me off, when all I want to do is start quizzing him, but I remembered what you said about how useful he could be to us if he is, in fact, on our side. He wasn't as bad as you led me to expect - my being in Slytherin seems to have won out over my being a Potter. I also dropped a hint about you, so I'm expecting a confrontation soon, possibly with Dumbledore too. I hope so, I'm particularly excited about that part of the plan.
That's all I can think of for now, do let me know if there's anything I'm forgetting.
Hope you're all well, and please pass my love on to Sanna.
Harry.
"What's Operation Zoo?" Ron said, peering over Harry's shoulder.
"Inter-house unity," Harry said cheerfully, rolling up the long letter. "To give us a fighting chance at defeating any future potential resurrected dark lords."
Ron gaped at him. "You're serious about this you-know-who not being dead thing?"
"Yep. But don't let it put you off your breakfast - he's a long, long way from here."
Ron stared for a long moment, then shook his head and returned to his bacon. Harry's eccentricities seemed too much for him first thing in the morning.
\\/
Breakfast was barely over when the Slytherin table was visited by three red-heads.
The Weasleys descended on Ron in a flurry of consolations and shocked whispers. Fred and George wrapped an arm around his shoulders each.
"We asked Professor McGonagall -"
"If you could be resorted but-"
"She said the sorting hat was never wrong-"
"And that family precedent was no good reason-"
"For you to be in the same house as us."
Percy interjected in a pompous tone:
"I owled mother and father last night to inform them of the news, but haven't heard back yet. I expect there will be no way to keep it from Ginny, but I do hope you try your best not to exert any influence in that direction Ron. Ginny needs the guidance of her Gryffindor brothers when she comes to Hogwarts." Percy cast a scathing eye along the Slytherin table.
Ron was sinking further and further into his seat. Harry didn't think they were being entirely fair, but was reluctant to step into what was clearly a family matter. Other Slytherins though, clearly had no such concerns.
"Hey, you don't have to talk about us as if we're scum, you know!" A blond girl sitting on the other side of the table called out loudly, gaining the attention of some of the other Slytherins. Even Draco Malfoy, who was sitting as far away from Harry and Ron as possible, looked interested.
Percy looked affronted. "This is a family matter, miss...?"
"Greengrass." The girl replied coolly. "And family matter it might be, but our houses are supposed to be families, and it seems to me like you're being rather insulting to our Slytherin family - which includes your brother."
"C'mon Perce," Ron said uncomfortably, although he shot a grateful look at the blond girl. "The hat nearly put me in Gryffindor, it just said that I had a lot of ambition."
Percy looked slightly put out. "I'm ambitious," he pointed out. "And I ended up in Gryffindor."
"Yes but we're all different."
Fred and George had been watching the debate with interest, and Harry leaned towards them quietly, trying to attract their attention. "Can't you do something?" He whispered. "Ron's your brother, and I'm sure Percy means well, but he's upsetting him."
"We would try, but-"
"When Percy gets on a roll like that-"
"He's like mum, it's best to wait it out."
One of them looked at Harry suspiciously. "How come you ended up in Slytherin anyway? You're the Boy-Who-Lived and defeated the greatest dark lord of all time, you should have an AAA pass to Gryffindor!"
Harry smirked at them. "I guess I have a desire to prove myself, and a burning ambition to bring down a certain dark lord, which might require a large amount of cunning."
The twins looked at each other.
"Is he serious?"
"I think he might be serious"
"But if he's serious that could mean all sorts of trouble."
"Danger to our little Ron."
"We can't have that."
"Oh no."
"Not our little Ron."
They both turned back to Harry.
"You better keep our little Ron safe," one said.
"I can take care of myself!" Ron interjected grumpily. His conversation with Percy seemed to have ended with an impasse, as neither looked happy. The blond girl was also sitting with her nose in the air.
"Stay safe then little Ron," the twins chorused, and all three departed.
Ron buried his head in his hands. "Just once," he said, his voice muffled. "Just once I'd like to not be the youngest brother in a family of seven."
\\/
Harry had been hoping to catch up with Hermione and Neville again at breakfast, but timetables were being handed out down the tables, leaving no opportunity to abandon their house. He and Ron eagerly studied their week. One thing was for sure; it was full on.
Harry enjoyed the first week thoroughly. His early grounding in magic saw him well through the practical aspects. Astronomy was fun, as it had been covered in his magical primary school. But the English stars presented a different and exciting challenge from the Ugandan night skies. Herbology was also a new experience, as the strange plants and fungi varied greatly from any Harry had seen outside his textbook. History of Magic though had Harry wondering if the entire course was a joke. Harry was particularly well-versed in history, but the ghost of Professor Binns was such a poor teacher Harry thought he could probably teach the class better himself.
Charms was excellent. Although they didn't undertake any practical work during the first few sessions, Harry found the theory they discussed fascinating, and very different to what he had been raised to know. By the end of the first lesson, Professor Flitwick had excitedly begun to pull Harry aside at the end of the lesson to ask for his opinion on the material, as Harry's background had taught him to approach it in such a different manner.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. He had also been right to think he might unfortunately find himself in the position of crossing her. Really though, it wasn't his fault that hers was the first class he had to use his wand in.
Harry had been looking forward to learning transfiguration. It was virtually impossible to change the essence of things in the 'accidental magic' he had been taught how to use, and ever since buying his first wand at the Ugandan Magic Market last year, he had been itching to try out some real, controlled magic. Kingsley had grounded him thoroughly in the theory, but he was excited to finally be able to practice.
After taking pages of detailed notes, Professor McGonagall gave them each a match, and instructed them to attempt to turn it into a needle.
Harry was sitting with Ron, who looked a little nervous. "You first," Ron muttered.
Harry looked at the needle, and raised his wand, concentrating hard. Out of habit, he visualised what he wanted to happen, but before he could even say a word or use the proper movement with his wand, something changed.
A silver needle appeared on the desk in place of the match.
Ron stared. "You didn't even say the words!" He sounded accusing.
The rest of the Slytherins also turned to stare. Harry shrugged, embarrassed. "I don't know what I did, I was just thinking about it and it happened. I didn't mean to make it happen."
"What did you do Potter?" Professor McGonagall demanded, bearing down on them.
"I just... Waved my wand."
"That's impossible."
"Improbable," Harry corrected. "I was taught that it was impossible to transfigure things without the appropriate phrasing, but then I was also taught that 'impossible' is not a word that should be applied to magic, when after all so many new discoveries are made every day."
"Who taught you that?"
"My school," Harry replied. Although he had great respect for Minerva McGonagall, he couldn't deny he was enjoying playing dumb. If he baited enough teachers, eventually Dumbledore would come to him for answers. And then he could demand answers of his own.
Professor McGonagall looked like she was going to start shouting at any moment, but she controlled herself. "Your muggle school?"
"No" Harry replied happily. This was it, the real cruncher. "The magical school I attended."
The rest of the class was hanging off their every word. Malfoy in particular looked like he was trying to memorise everything Harry said, no doubt to later repeat back to his father, but couldn't resist getting a few words in.
"There are no magical schools in Britain Potter," Malfoy sneered. "Perhaps you were in a club for muggle magic tricks, and didn't know the difference."
"I'm well aware that the ministry bans magical primary schools in Britain Malfoy," Harry replied calmly. "But luckily for me, I wasn't raised in Britain."
Professor McGonagall was pale. "Not...raised in Britain?" She asked weakly.
"No," Harry told her casually. "I was raised in Wizarding Uganda, although I did come to Britain a lot with my mentor, Alastor Moody."
The mischievous side of Harry would treasure the look on Professor McGonagall's face for the rest of his life.
Professor McGonagall looked very much as though she would like to begin questioning him immediately. However she controlled herself, and she restored order to her class quickly, ensuring that the rest of the class continued with their matches and needles. But her eyes rarely left Harry throughout the remainder of the lesson, and he expected a summons to see the headmaster would be arriving soon
\\/
"I heard what happened in Transfiguration!" Hermione exclaimed, joining Harry and Ron at the Slytherin table at lunchtime.
"Oh?" Harry said, concentrating on his food. He was hoping to catch up with Professor Flitwick before the end of lunch.
"Oh?!" Hermione said, looking scandalised at Harry's lack of response. "Harry you transfigured a match non-verbally the first time you ever did Transfiguration," Hermione said, her voice raising in pitch. "Everyone in Ravenclaw is talking about it. They all want to know how you did it."
Harry looked up in surprise. Indeed, it seemed that half of the Ravenclaw table was watching Hermione talking to Harry with eager eyes. There was a certain covetous gleam there that irritated Harry. "I thought we talked about the theory of accidental magic on the train," Harry said.
"And it was that?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure what it is," Harry said truthfully. "And I'm not sure it's a good thing. I might be wrong, but it seems like too much power for one wand."
Every Slytherin at the table pricked their ears up at the word 'power,' and Harry shot Hermione a warning glance. Their conversation was no longer private. Hermione took the hint and changed the subject, but Harry felt speculating glares upon him all through lunch, and was glad to escape to the charms classroom.
Over the next few days, they explored aspect of magic Harry had dreamed of learning. The Slytherins were all excited to attend their first Defence against the Dark Arts lesson, but were scornful about it after experiencing just one lesson. Even Harry agreed, it was all a bit of a joke, as Quirrell seemed scared of his own shadow and never taught them anything. Although the consensus amongst the other Slytherins seemed to revolve more around complaining about the lack of Dark Arts on the curriculum, than the poor teaching.
Harry kept a close eye on Professor Quirrell throughout the lesson, but saw no suspicious signs except for the large turban, which he seemed to have no particular reason for wearing. However, Mad-Eye had taught Harry that appearances could be deceiving, and so he watched closely, looking for a slip here, or a falter there.
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Friday morning was a big day for Harry and Ron. It was the first time they managed to side-step Adrian Pucey, and walk themselves up to breakfast. In the entrance hall they even managed to catch up with Hermione and Neville, and agreed to meet in the afternoon to discuss their first week.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron, as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double potions with the Gryffindors," Ron said.
"Oh great, we'll get to see Neville."
"Yeah," Ron sighed.
"Still feeling a bit sore?" Harry asked.
"Well, yeah. I should have been on that side of the classroom."
"Don't worry mate. I've heard Snape is horrible to Gryffindors. I bet by the end of the lesson, you're glad to be a Slytherin!"
Just then, the mail arrived.
Vapour hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a folded up onto Harry's plate. Harry checked nobody was in position to read over his shoulder, and opened it.
He needn't have worried. It was blank, clearly written in Mad-Eyes personal invisible ink, which could only be unlocked by a certain code word spoken by the receiver. Deciding the contents must be delicate, Harry put it in his pocket for later.
\\/
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Harry and Ron waved at Neville as they filed in, and took seats at desks close together. Snape started the class by taking the roll call, and he paused at Neville's name.
"Longbottom. Would you be the son of Alice Longbottom, by any chance?" He asked silkily
"Ye-yes sir," Neville stuttered.
"Your mother was incapable of brewing even the simplest potion without disastrous results. I hope you are not similarly...inept." Snape hissed.
Neville sank into his seat. Harry was furious, and had to make a quick choice. If he handled this wrong he would lose any chance of having Snape as an ally. But if he let Neville get beaten down like this, it would take that much longer to draw him out of his shell. Not to mention, a large part of him was hoping that Snape wasn't innocent, just because it would be so easy to dislike the man.
"How do you know, sir?" Harry asked politely.
"What, Potter?"
"Well, sir, Alice Longbottom was a year above you in potions, and became an auror after she left school, which suggests she passed her NEWT in potions. So she can't have been that inept."
Snape glared at Harry. "Do not interrupt on matters you do not understand!"
"I apologise for interrupting sir," Harry said smoothly.
Snape didn't seem to want to penalise Slytherin, and swiftly continued the roll call. Harry sighed with relief, but noticed Neville was sitting straighter in his seat. Neville shot him a grateful glance.
Snape finished calling the names, and looked at the class. His eyes were black. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows.
"Longbottom!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Um...The Draught of Living Death sir, isn't it?" Neville stuttered.
Snape ignore him. "And tell me, pray, where I would look to find a bezoar?"
"I don't know sir."
"Tut tut, didn't open a book before you arrived?" Neville flushed, and sank down. Harry glared at Malfoy, who was openly laughing with his friends Crabbe and Goyle.
"Try again. What is the difference between Wolfsbane and Monkshood?"
"Nothing sir! They're the same plant, also known as Aconite," Neville said eagerly.
Snape glared, but didn't contradict him and seemed not to want to push the issue. Harry and Ron looked at Neville, impressed. "How did you know all that mate?" Ron whispered as the class was divided into pairs.
Neville shrugged, his round face blushing. "I love plants. My gran let's me look after the greenhouses at home, and I grow my own plants which are used in potions a lot. I'm hopeless at anything apart from that though."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like.
Harry remembered the information that Snape was Malfoy's godfather, and whispered this to Ron to cheer him up, explaining that he was bound to favour him. Harry and Ron's potion was also going fairly well, although some of the ingredients were new to Harry. Potion-making had also been a part of his early education, but it was more things designed to keep them safe in Wizarding Uganda - antidotes to the venom of magical snakes, and the like.
Snape was just making pointed compliments about Malfoy, when Harry caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. "No!" He said urgently to Neville. But it was too late. Clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.
Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus.
"May I take Neville, sir?" Harry interrupted. "Seamus should probably look after his cauldron, but Ron and I have finished."
Snape swept a cursory look over their potion. It seemed to satisfy him, for he sniffed and agreed.
"See you later," Harry whispered to Ron, shouldering his bag and helping Neville to his feet. "Come on Neville, mate. Let's get you sorted."
\\/
Neville whimpered the whole way up from the dungeons, and Harry felt sympathetic. The boils were large and oozing pus, and looked distinctly painful.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Neville said miserably. "I should have known I'd be no good at it though."
"What are you talking about? You heard Snape even admit that your mum had been good at potions, and you said you love plants - potions should be a walk in the park for you."
"I guess I just can't concentrate when Snape's bearing down on me."
"Well don't worry. You heard Hermione on the train talking about lessons, and we're meeting up this afternoon. Maybe we can get some kind of study group going, work on potions before we actually have to brew them."
Neville smiled weakly. "That might help," he admitted.
"It wasn't fair of Snape to start on your mum either. That would be like him starting on me about my parents, and they're both dead."
"My parents aren't dead," Neville said unhappily.
"I'm sorry Neville, I didn't mean to suggest that."
"Its okay, its just...how did you know about my parents anyway?"
"Mad-Eye told me. We covered their history as aurors as part of my training, while we were studying Bellatrix Lestrange."
Neville flinched at the name, and Harry felt guilty. "I hate her." Neville said in a low voice, his eyes burning with intensity. "One day, I'm going to kill her."
Harry was taken aback. He hasn't expected this side of Neville to come to the surface so easily. "Well you'll have plenty of company there mate," he joked. "But if you want first dibs on Lestrange, I'm sure that can be arranged. I get Moldy Voldy though."
Neville laughed with surprise, and Harry smiled.
After Harry had left Neville in the capable hands of the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, he wandered back through the school, in no hurry to get back to potions. He explored passages he hasn't seen before, examined large tapestries and paintings, and followed a few moving staircases to see where they'd end up.
He was just engaging in conversation with a painting of an elderly man with glasses, who left a painting of a refined sitting room to follow Harry through several hallways - when he bumped into two more people who were clearly avoiding lessons.
The Weasley twins looked up guiltily as he approached, stuffing several suspicious looking vials and an old piece of parchment into their pockets.
"Oh hello Harry, my fine fellow!" Said one. "Fancy meeting you here in this splendid hallway in the middle of the day. Not skipping lessons are you? Naughty naughty."
It was the most Harry had ever heard one of them say at once, and he laughed. "Nope, just been escorting one of your fellow Gryffindors up to the hospital after a potions accident," he told them. "But what are you two doing here? I don't believe for one minute it's innocent."
"Well you see Harrikins-"
"There we were, sitting in History of Magic-"
"Paying close attention-"
"Taking careful notes-"
"Studying hard like the excellent students we are-"
"When it came to our attention that we've been at school for almost a whole week."
"Not one prank."
"Not a single joke."
"A tragic state of affairs."
"So let me guess," Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You both suddenly came over weak and faint, but miraculously recovered once you left the room."
"Harrikins you must be a mind-reader."
"And so we decided to celebrate our recovery with a little school joke."
"Do I get to find out what it is?" Harry sighed.
"Oh no Harrikins."
"That would ruin the surprise"
"Just don't drink the pumpkin juice at breakfast next Monday."
"Never know what might be in pumpkin juice."
"Not with the house elves so lovely and accommodating anyway."
"But do let Ron."
"Could be funny."
"Very funny."
Just then, Mrs Norris stalked around the corner and paused, hissing at the sight of them.
"Better run Harrikins," the twins chorused. "Filch is on his way!"
\\/
After lessons, finished, Harry and Ron met up with Hermione and Neville outside by the lake. There was an old willow tree, and they sat under its branches and gazed out across the water.
Hermione was full of the lessons, and the exciting things she had learnt that week. She also couldn't stop talking about the Hogwarts library, and all the different books. It seemed that being in Ravenclaw meant that evenings were for studying, nights were for discussing the things you had learnt, and mealtimes were for reviewing lessons.
"When do you relax?" Harry asked pointedly.
Hermione blushed. "Sometimes I read just for fun," she said.
"Doesn't count!" Harry joked. "You need a hobby."
"Gran says that learning is wonderful to exercise the mind, but you need to look after the body, heart and soul too," Neville joined in, looking embarrassed.
Hermione looked unhappy. "There's just so much to learn before exams!" She wailed.
"Hermione," Harry said seriously. "You need to relax. I'm not criticising your house, but I do think that Ravenclaw are taking on a little too much. It's important that we study hard, but other things are important too."
"Why don't we have an evening off every week?" Ron suggested hopefully. "Do something fun."
Hermione looked panicky. "But-" she began.
"I know," Harry interrupted. "Why don't we do a bit of spell practice? Work on what we learnt during the week, and apply it in fun ways. Like a practical review."
Hermione seemed much more able to get her head around this, and nodded. "Here, by the lake if it's sunny?" She asked.
Harry nodded. "Every Friday then, its settled."
\\/
Later that evening, back in the Slytherin dormitory, Harry finally had a chance to read his letter from Mad-Eye and Kingsley.
"Constant Vigilance" he whispered to the paper, and watched as inky words spread across.
Dear Harry,
I was pleased to hear about the allies you have identified so far. Naturally the news about the Malfoy boy is disappointing, but not wholly unexpected. Old Malfoy senior tried to kick up a fuss at the ministry about that punch you threw, but they laughed him out. I believe Amelia Bones has asked her niece Susan Bones to keep an eye on you however, so I would suggest you make an attempt in that direction. I don't need to tell you how useful it would be to have Madam Bones in our corner.
Congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin. This is a perfect opportunity to study Severus Snape, the end goal being discovering whether or not he is on our side, and ensuring loyalty if he is. Naturally we are mistrustful of him, given his history, and so keeping a close eye out would help. Don't pass up an opportunity to have a look in his office if you get the chance, but don't take any risks. To give you a greater insight into his character, I have arranged for an old schoolfellow of his to visit over Christmas, and give you an idea of his history and character. Remus Lupin is also excellent at defense, and will be working with you in that direction. If you have any friends you wish to accompany you, that may be arranged once they have been background checked.
Hermione Granger appears to be exactly what she claims to be - a muggleborn witch. I can find no evidence that she is anything other than that. Both her parents are dentists (muggle healers who work inside the mouth) and she has no siblings. Transcripts from her muggle primary school suggest she was studious, but lonely and had trouble making friends. If she has been sorted into Ravenclaw, this pattern may very well continue - see if you can intervene.
I see that as of your last letter, Dumbledore has not yet made any moves to discover where you have been for the past ten years. We shall expect it soon, and eagerly look forward to hearing any developments in this regard.
Sanna is well, but eagerly awaits next year when she intends to attend school with you. Our parselmouth friend has been translating for me this week, as Sanna does not take kindly to not being able to express herself.
Keep safe,
Kingsley
Mad-Eye
Harry smiled as he rolled up the letter again, and put it aside. Kingsley must have written it, because there were no hidden curses, no strange allusions, it was written in a fairly straightforward manner, and didn't descend into excessive insulting of Severus Snape, as Mad-Eye had a tendency to do.
Suddenly the letter burst into flames. Harry jumped, then pulled out his wand and waved it without thinking. A jet of water sprayed out of the end, and doused not only the letter, but also his whole bed and bedside drawers. Harry sighed. He was going to have to ask research this accidental magic, because as far as he knew, it shouldn't have worked like this.
Very few Ugandan wizarding children ever had to opportunity to attend a proper school of magic, and so there was no precedent for this. A wand was supposed to give his spellcasting direction and make it stronger - but this seemed off the scale. Harry figured he'd ask Kingsley in his next letter, and decided to get an early night.
It was as well he did, because the next morning would bring his first sign that Dumbledore hadn't ignored his overtures.
\\/
Thanks for all the input, very nice to hear. Thank you for reading,
-Cas