Reply and Nighttime Wandering

Dear Uncle Jonas:

I hope this letter finds you well!

I'm sorry it took me so long to write back. I'd been busy with the start of term, but things have finally settled down.

The Czech Republic really is a wonderful place. I'd always wanted to visit Prague, but Mrs. Cole refused to help me get a passport. I really didn't understand it—at a time like this, what was the point of needing a passport? Poland was a nice place too. My new roommate's cousin lived in Finland. He was a Muggle—wizards called people who couldn't use magic Muggles—and a basketball player. He had just taken part in the last Berlin Olympics. Apparently, he was a full two meters and seventeen centimeters tall, and he was a center! Could you bring me back a piece of amber from Poland this time? It doesn't have to be very big. Our Head of House said there might be ancient magical creatures trapped inside amber.

Tom and I had been at Hogwarts for over a month now, and we were both doing quite well. At the very least, the food was much better than at Mrs. Cole's. Speaking of food, Tom had put a big box of chocolates in the wardrobe in his room. They were for the children at the orphanage. He was always rather shy about things like that. If you told him, he would definitely say, "Why would Lord Riddle leave chocolates for them? Those filthy little idiots disgust me." Could you help him deliver the chocolates to the orphanage?

Our days were full. Classes were scheduled from morning until night. The first day of term was Friday, and we only had two packed morning classes, both Potions, taught by our Head of House, Horace Slughorn. Potions was about brewing potions in cauldrons, and Tom had done exceptionally well in it... Oh, right, Hogwarts had four Houses: Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. A new student's House was not determined by preference or exam results, but by a battered hat that wrote a song every year. I thought that was a little too hasty, but perhaps that was magic... I was assigned to Slytherin. Most Slytherin students came from pure-blood wizarding families. I knew I shouldn't judge a group of people by stereotypes, but they seemed full of prejudice against Muggle-born students. Everyone said this House was good at producing Dark Wizards and ambitious schemers, but I didn't think I possessed those qualities. I had always believed that what determined what kind of person we became was not our abilities, but our choices.

There were no classes on Friday afternoons after Potions. I guessed the time was reserved for homework and clubs. Monday mornings were Charms and Herbology. The Charms professor was the Head of Ravenclaw, a stern woman. She taught us many practical spells. Some were little household spells that saved us the time spent on tedious chores like chopping vegetables, cleaning, and washing dishes. Others were more remarkable, such as the Levitation Charm and Alohomora. Alohomora was a little violent—it left a hole in the door. I had no idea why the school specifically taught that spell. Did wizards often forget their keys?

The Herbology professor was the Head of Hufflepuff. He was a humorous, generous old man who always told us to study hard and inherit his mantle, so that he could retire sooner... I had seen quite a few strange magical plants. Besides those, many ordinary plants also had magical uses. I felt that I would soon become as knowledgeable as you.

Tuesday afternoon was History of Magic. You knew I had always been interested in history, but over the past month, I had become even more interested in the professor for that course—Professor Binns. He was a ghost. Supposedly, many years ago, the elderly Professor Binns went to teach a class and somehow forgot to bring his body with him. That day had been the anniversary of his death, and he had been a ghost ever since. Although he was so senile that he could not remember anything else, he remembered history with perfect clarity. He himself was a living history book. Hogwarts ghosts were not permitted to interact with students, with Professor Binns as the sole exception. He was a truly respectable historian and educator.

We had Transfiguration on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. Transfiguration was both my favorite subject and the one I was best at. It could turn one thing into another, and at advanced levels, it could even transform oneself—I was the first first-year to turn a matchstick into a needle. Professor Dumbledore—the one responsible for admissions, and also the Head of Gryffindor—said he would introduce me to an outstanding older student. She was Dumbledore's prized pupil and the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Quidditch was a popular wizarding sport, something like multiplayer aerial basketball combined with mixed martial arts, played while riding Broomsticks. I could learn some advanced things outside the curriculum from her, and I was looking forward to it.

There was also a Defense Against the Dark Arts class on Wednesday morning. The purpose of this subject was to teach us how to protect ourselves against Dark Magic, but Professor Merrythought, who taught it, was a little dry. He simply read straight from the textbook, and none of the students seemed very interested... I knew I should not question a teacher's methods while studying, but I was pessimistic about the effectiveness of this course. The situation in the wizarding world was not much better than that in Europe. A terrorist called Grindelwald was carrying out attacks all day long, so I planned to study some of this knowledge on my own after class.

There was also Astrology that evening. It was... um, a fortune-telling subject. Mrs. Climance—she would not allow us to call her Professor, supposedly because it would disrupt her mystical connection with the Constellations—was a little eccentric, but I had a somewhat unique understanding of Astrology...

I wondered whether you would be able to come home for Christmas. Tom and I planned to return home over the Christmas holiday and prepare an interesting gift for Auntie and you. I did not know whether you were still in Poland or had already returned to London, but you were right: owls would find the recipient.

Nelson, looking forward to a holiday in the Czech Republic

October 8, 1938

"I wonder if Uncle Jonas will even understand what I wrote... Good thing his surname isn't Dursley, or I wouldn't have anyone to write to at all..." Nelson lay in a recliner in the Slytherin Common Room. Beside him, the fireplace blazed fiercely, heating one half of his body until it felt hot. He looked up at the enormous floor-to-ceiling window nearby. Several thick iron chains glimmering green descended from the ceiling alongside the stone pillars by the window. Beyond them lay the tranquil Black Lake.

Nelson pulled a bag out from beneath the table beside his recliner, transfigured his nearly falling-apart Quill into a candle, lit it with Incendio, and began feeling around for the sealing wax he had just "bought online."

Bang!

The sound of the heavy wooden door slamming into its frame ruined the atmosphere Nelson had worked so hard to create.

"Nal, you have to go tonight. Tomorrow's Sunday, so there's no need to work this hard—" Tom swept into the Common Room with their three roommates in tow. He carried two boxes of little Tomatoes in his left hand, while his right held a golden fork as delicately as some noble gentleman. He set one box on the table. "I saw you didn't go to dinner today, so I brought you something to eat."

"Thanks," Nelson said, eyeing the Tomatoes and grumbling inwardly, Giving me a box of negative-calorie food? Aren't you afraid I'll starve to death on the spot after eating it?

"This is the first official gathering of our First-Year Mutual Aid Society. It's tonight, in the Transfiguration classroom on the fourth floor. I've been there several times. It connects in all directions, so it's perfect for a nighttime gathering." Tom spoke unhurriedly. "We've already brought together many friends."

Bang! This time, the door slammed against the stone wall.

"And I've already made arrangements with the Hufflepuff students. They'll have the House-elves in the castle bring us delicious food." This came from Alphard, who looked as though he had just eaten his fill. "I found another secret passage out of the Common Room today. We can leave through there tonight."

"First-Year Mutual Aid Society? Are you planning to break away from the student council?" Nelson sealed the envelope and looked up at Tom in confusion, then turned to Alphard with equal confusion. "Didn't you claim just last week that you'd found every secret passage in Hogwarts?"

"No, it's just a gathering where everyone looks out for one another." Tom's explanation was dry, and he might as well have had I want to become independent and seize all the power for myself written across his face. Seeing the envelope in Nelson's hand, he bent down and whispered, "Is that for Uncle Jonas? My—"

"I wrote it, I wrote it. Tom's cho—" Seeing Tom's face full of horror at his image collapsing and fear of social death, Nelson changed course and chuckled. "I'll convey the great Lord Riddle's greetings."

"I think that at different times and under different conditions, certain mechanisms or magic that are normally difficult to trigger may be activated in the castle. We might also come across more hidden secret passages." Alphard answered Nelson's question, then confidently added, "I'm certain I've found all the commonly used secret passages in the castle!"

"Impressive!" All the nearby Slytherin first-years gave him a thumbs-up. No one with a free spirit could possibly be uninterested in secret passages.

"Nal, we still have to notify Ravenclaw." Tom directed the roommates behind him, left his fork on the table, and said goodbye to Nelson. "See you tonight!"

Alphard also went to change clothes. Though he seemed unruly, being born into a pure-blood family meant that even for a gathering as seemingly childish as this, he would prepare seriously at times.

"Alright, see you in a bit." After a month of Tom's relentless bombardment, Nelson was finally going to attend the first-year gathering. He took out his watch, checked the time, wound it for a while, then slipped it back into his trouser pocket.

"Still a little while to go."

It was already late at night. Nelson tucked the letter into his bag, shifted into a position where the heat would warm him more evenly, and continued lying in the recliner as he watched the schools of fish swimming through the Black Lake. They moved in great groups, forming masses no less immense than certain other residents of the lake. Through the gaps between the fish, he could see light from the surface scattered through the water. Nelson had written his letter by that light. Following it to its source, he saw a patch of drifting light upon the distant lake surface. It was round and full, bright, glowing a cool yet warm pale yellow.

"The moon on the fifteenth..." Nelson shook his head and hummed a song no one could understand.