alt_sinistra: black and white image of woman with short blond hair looking out of the image. (Default)
Aurora Sinistra ([personal profile] alt_sinistra) wrote2011-11-03 06:58 pm

Private message to Raz

I know you've been horribly busy this week, dear, so no need to reply if you're still buried. I thought the following amusing moments from my mail might give you a chuckle, though. (Has the fuss over the champions died down on your end any? Gossip has still been running high in the staff room when I poke my head in.)

Anyway:

1 letter accusing me of fixing the Cup, because of course I'd favor my own house. (Well, I do, but not to the extent of fiddling with the charms on ancient magical artifacts. I have rather more sense.) That rumor seems to be more prevalent at school than in the general populace, anyway, and thankfully people seem to have moved on to other candidates.

2 letters from parents of children under the age of 11, worrying that the challenges of the YPL are not going to adequately prepare their children for life in the Protectorate as adults, and what do I propose to do about that?

Favorite sentences: "Our children should not fall backwards when they leave the excellent new village school programme recently established. There, they sing songs, flourish flags, propose projects contributing to their community, all to praise the Protectorate! Surely the YPL programme could do more, with weekly meetings, and far more extensive expectations, rewards, and incentives."

They then go on to propose a yearly play, a student newspaper to highlight essays, events, and profiles of the YPL's shining stars, and the creation of challenges between different groups of students to "ensure that students excell in all areas of the mind, magic, and devoted heart."

I have written back to say that I appreciate their ideas, and am certain the programme will continue to develop, but that at present, we are unable to add any additional formal activities to the schedule.

4 letters from parents of children currently in the YPL programme, two of whom are concerned that the activities are too easy and simplistic, and two of whom argue that they are far too challenging for developing minds and bodies. One of these seems to have gone through the journals to highlight every dangerous event that has happened to students involved in the YPL programme since its inception. (Thankfully, she only knows about the half of it, though on the whole our record is quite good.)

Favorite sentences: "These are our children, the future leaders of the Protectorate. How can we risk their lives and hearts in dangerous pursuits before they are trained?" (I resisted the temptation to ask if she had examined the Hogwarts curriculum in any detail.)

Also in my mail:
- A message from Healer Stint, about some details about the Medwizardry lectures on December 3rd (did I mention to you that he's planning to be here or just to Poppy?)

- A followup from one of my recent errands: I suspect you will be quite pleased by the results.

- 2 letters requesting advice on ways recent halfblood graduates might find it easier to find work, and whether any of the YPL connections might be willing to offer assistance of any kind, no matter how small. (I've started getting a couple of these every month, and they always break my heart: I think I want to add it to the agenda in December if I possibly can. Even a list of employers willing to give halfbloods of good character a chance would be a start.)

- 3 letters accusing me of being a corrupting influence on you. (None of them worrisome, just deluded. One of them may be that woman you were telling me about who persists in pink parchment, purple ink, and charmed glitter all over everything, with Capitals in Every other Word.)

- And the usual range of billing and accounting issues, which are entirely boring.
alt_rabastan: (Rabastan)

[personal profile] alt_rabastan 2011-11-04 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
Buried? Oh, yes, I was indisposed last night, I'm afraid. Very busy with various fire chats and the like.

I'm not certain I find your mail as amusing as you do. Well, not all of it, leastways. I've not been so much "accused" of having fixed the goblet (in Harry's favour, not Cedric's, of course) as much as I've had very knowing looks flashed in my direction. Flattering as it may be, I definitely do not have the skills to manipulate ad object like that. Now my brother, on the other hand, that's right up his pitch. All I was told to do was make sure Harry put his name in the goblet- but I already told you that. Now, what I can't figure is why he looked so damned surprised when his name came out. I saw him put the parchment in, so...

Though come to think on it, I don't know what it said. It definitely wasn't a blank slip of parchment, though.

Cedric was definitely an unwelcome surprise from all quarters, not that anything can be done now. I feel for him, though. He's one of my best newts and he deserves to be there, really. And even with all the extra lessons I've given Harry, I'm pretty sure there's no way he can measure up.

Anyway, back to your mail.

-For the parents of the pre-Hogwartians (and the current Hogwartians, actually), why not tell them that you're just following the YPL plan as approved by Auror Lestrange? That ought to shut their gobs right up, in addition to being the truth.

-No, you didn't tell me about Stint doing a stint. Haha. Good to know! Maybe there'll be time to take him out for a round in Hogsmeade.

-Errands? I am certifiably intrigued.

-That's rough. I don't know what you can say, though. I know there are a lot of factories are employing halfbloods, but it's not exactly the most well-paying or otherwise rewarding work. And there's all those stalls in Borough Market, but then that can be rough, too. It's always getting raided on suspicion of black market trading.

-Wot's that? Because I'm pretty sure the pink-parchment woman is a student, you know. I thought we were being discrete in front of them, too. Am I doing something not-discrete that I don't know about? Because I've been known to do that. You need to give me some kind of signal if I start to stare at your chest at dinner.

A shove might work, for starters.