Hello moste excellente readers! It's only a short chapter, but I couldn't help take a quick dive into what a magical Malta would look like. I have never been, but a close friend of mine has her roots there. I will also add that I was really hoping to be able to use the proper symbols for Scorpio and Star, but alas - I think I expect too much. Enjoy! Thank you all for your undying patience! As always, comments are life!

[Astronomical Symbol for Scorpio]︎,

Mother and Father have told me that I have other obligations this summer, and that I'm not to be able to send you owls every day. So I'll need to make this one as long and thorough as I can. It might have to last you a month.

Apparently the Parkinsons are holding some sort of summer gathering, to which we must attend, due to something my mother calls a 'social contract'. I wanted to tell her that I hadn't signed anything contractual, but I stayed quiet and let Daphne get promptly into a fight about whether she could sleep over at Pansy's as all her other friends were doing. It didn't end well, or at least that's what I gather. I took off to hide in the library as soon as I could. It's just going to be another one of those stupid parties where most of the kids will be Slytherin and one of them (I suspect Blaise Nabini) will sneak in a bottle of Firewhisky and Daphne and Theo will fight (I don't even know if they're on or off again right now) and I'll have snuck a copy of Hesiod or Sophocles in, transfigured into a hair pin, so I can read in a quiet corner somewhere until we get to leave.

Can you tell I'm looking forward to it?

Even with all that excitement to look forward to, I'm worried I'll be bored. Or worse, alone with my thoughts. I don't really want to write about Iain… because I don't know what to say. He has dimples. He wants to play Quidditch next year. He does this adorable thing where he scrunches his face when I think he's nervous or worried he's said something inappropriate. And if I keep thinking about him, I find myself going into a little spiral of 'what does he even know about me/how can he like me/what do I even do about it' that never seems to end. So I'm not writing about him.

Tell me you're in some exotic locale this summer. Perhaps you're going to see Farid? If so, tell him I already miss his company. I never knew I wanted an older brother until I met him. And now I'm supremely jealous, because you're probably spending your summer in some ochre-stained desert, trading riddles with a Sphinx or the like. "Tullia and the Jesting Djinn" has such a great ring to it, doesn't it?

Merlin, it's only the second week of July. How long is this summer going to last?

Yours most devotedly,

[Astronomical Symbol for Star]

[Astronomical Symbol for Star],

Of course I'm in some ridiculously colourful and culturally-rich locale, but it would be a thousand times better if you were here too. My parents have whisked me off to Malta (of all places) with them. Father's meeting with some clients here, and they thought I'd enjoy the sights. It isn't Crete (oh how I would love to hear that you'd died of overwhelming jealousy if we ended up there!) but it's a fascinating little speck in the Mediterranean. Did you know that Gozo, the second largest island here, is Ogygia from the Odyssey? Or so the locals insist. I promise that I won't be distracted by anyone named Calypso.

Going to the Parkinsons for a 'summer engagement' sounds dull as dust. I'd rather eat a whole cake of Frog Spawn Soap. Maybe you should write it all up as though the Slytherins were in their own little Greek drama. I'd read that voraciously. Please, please, please choose Marcus Flint to sacrifice to Cetus. We'd all be overjoyed if he isn't on the Quidditch team next year.

I must say, a whole paragraph on how you're not going to write about Iain! Such progress! I'm so proud of you. You failed to mention his disturbingly-optimistic outlook, and his excellent table manners. I mean, I assume he has good table manners. You really didn't share a crumb with me about your Yule Ball dinner date. I am terribly put out.

Well, I can't possibly be more serious than that, so you'll need to say something else shocking so I can fixate on it. Or else I'll have to say something shocking so you can fixate on it. Maybe you'll end up doing something unforgivable like play 'Question or Command' or 'Spin the Phial' at that summer party, and I'll be able to bother you mercilessly about it. I can't wait. Hurry up and break some rules already.

Miss you,

︎[Astronomical Symbol for Scorpio]︎

[Astronomical Symbol for Scorpio]︎︎,

You're going to be terribly disappointed with me. The summer party was the most boring thing I've ever attended. Not even a lick of drama. The closest it got to excitement was when Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle tried to use Engorgio on a garden gnome. One of the adults had to deflate it before it could float off into the backyard of some unsuspecting Muggle. Honestly. Some wizards are just asking for trouble.

And before you ask, yes, I shrank a copy of Hesiod's Theogony and put it in my locket. Does that count as breaking rules? In searching for a quiet corner to read… well, I can also tell you with some certainty that apparently Daphne and Theo are back ON. I don't want to elaborate on how I discovered this.

Malta sounds utopian. Certainly better than Cheshire. You're right, though, I would be far more jealous if you were going to Crete, so I take comfort in that. Oh, to stand on the steps of Knossos and take in the splendour. And I do appreciate you not searching out Gozo, since I would like you to return in time for the school year.

Speaking of time, it's already well into August. Time flies when there's books in the library to read. I can't wait for this year's textbook list! I'm looking forward to Ancient Runes - can you imagine? Another alphabet to learn! I suppose I shouldn't sound quite so excited about it. I know we said we'd take Divination because it'd be a breeze after Astronomy… but I don't know. I've heard some ridiculous things about Professor Trelawney. Then again, my source is Daphne, and I don't exactly trust her to be overly concerned with a professor's teaching competence.

Astoria put her quill down. She wanted to write Hogsmeade forms come this year! with all the joy and copious exclamation marks that such a statement deserved. But then she'd feel obliged to explain that she'd be under strict limitations. As she'd feared, her parents were not at all excited about the thought of her leaving Hogwarts unsupervised. She had known it was coming and so had prepared a perfect compromise in advance: she wouldn't visit Hogsmeade unless Daphne was going too. It had worked, and her parents had reluctantly given in. But her sister's resentfulness about being a chaperone ('nanny' was the exact word she'd used) would depend entirely on Daphne's stormy moods, and Astoria had braved them often enough to know there was no certainty she'd ever get to visit the village.

She picked her quill back up, dabbed it in the inkpot, and then started writing again.

The alternative to Divination is Arithmancy, which could be fun. But I overheard Roger Davies once complaining about how difficult it was. Thoughts? Opinions? I'm sure you have some.

I may not be able to write you before I see you at 9 and ¾, so send me a titanic-sized letter if you can find an owl big enough to deliver it. Maybe there's a spare Pegasus you can send?

Let's see, what else. Father's been spending a fair amount of time at the ministry lately. Something about 'revitalizing policy' and whatnot. I think some second cousin thrice removed or some such is starting work there as well, and my father's been introducing him to everyone. I haven't really been paying attention. Nothing is as boring as politics.

Speaking of cousins, you never said what was up with Farid! Any news? If you write him, please tell him I miss seeing him at the breakfast table. I've convinced my parents to let Fletcher make me pain du chocolats, but I didn't even TRY to convince them of cappuccinos.

That's all I can think to write for now. I am counting every single day until King's Cross, I tell you. There's only so many times I can hear Daphne complain about her wardrobe to my mother to wind her up. I'm at my wit's end.

See you soon (but not soon enough),

[Astronomical Symbol for Star]

[Astronomical Symbol for Star],

I'm going to be the most wretched of friends and write you a very brief, very dry letter. To put it disappointingly briefly: we are only in Malta another day; we are swinging by Egypt before heading home; I won't be home for very long before we have to be at King's Cross; it's hard to want the summer to end when it feels like it has just begun; that said, I'll be happy to see you too.

Hang in there! I'll be back to alleviate your boredom and you'll be delighted about it. I promise.

[Astronomical Symbol for Scorpio]︎

"I swear it's true. They call it 'pika', and they compete about everything. I didn't dare ask about their Quidditch teams - I'd have probably have ended up in the middle of an island-wide duel."

Astoria had spent more than half the train ride listening to Tullia recount her summer adventures. Her friend had made her trip come alive as only Tullia was able to. It was as if she'd been there with her, really. Almost. It wasn't as though Astoria would be travelling the world herself anytime soon. If ever.

No, she didn't begrudge Tullia. It was hard to when her friend talked with such fervour about the giants that use to live on Gozo, of the enchanted lace the witches there wove - in silver as well as silk. Her friend painted the world in bright colours, and Astoria was happy to take it all in.

"So you haven't heard from Iain all summer?" Astoria almost did a double-take at Tullia's left turn in the conversation.

"Erm, no, but I wasn't expecting to." She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable with her friend's intense energy now focused on her. "I mean… I saw him briefly on the platform, but he was talking with Roger Davies. He seemed pretty keen to play on the team this year."

"Yeah, he wants a Chaser position. I bet he'll get it too - he's an excellent flyer." Her eyes gleamed with that quintessentially-Tullian enthusiasm. "We've got a solid chance, I reckon. Marcus Flint, that oversized lump of clay, graduated - thank the lucky stars - so Slytherin will be starting from scratch almost. And Oliver Wood's gone as well, so Gryffindor will be in the same situation… what?" Her friend trailed off when she realized Astoria was shaking her head.

"Oh, don't let me derail you. Or perhaps you'd like to go find Roger Davies yourself and talk strategy?"

"Funny, very funny, Greengrass. I see you've kept your sarcasm sharp while I was away. Excellent, excellent." She raised up her biscuit tin. "Another imqaret?"

It felt especially dark and late when they arrived at Hogwarts at last. Heavy clouds threatened rain, but they held off until their horseless carriage arrived at the castle. Dinner felt endless, especially with the dull-as-paint speech the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor gave. It wasn't until Astoria was in her dorm, about to climb into bed, that the heavens opened and rain began to pour down. Year three had begun at last.