Aurora Sinistra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alt_sinistra) wrote2013-01-08 05:05 pm
alt_sinistra) wrote2013-01-08 05:05 pm
Entry tags:
Private message to Tosha
Toshenka -
I have just spent two hours with Septima crying on my shoulder. Can you help?
I know I told you that one of her students last year failed near everything but his Arithmancy OWLS. Despite several of us doing everything we could. (And curse it, it was not enough, and Horace still holds it over me that he was right about that.) And they broke his wand, sent him to the camps.
You know she was called in Saturday to help, got shaken out of bed, spent the whole night doing calculations at the Ministry. After, it hit home just how much Thomas Capper could have helped. That he could have done the arithmancy near enough in his head.
This morning, after her class, she went to ask how he was doing. I don’t know why - no, I’m lying. I would look too. And because she’d been so helpful, someone tracked down where he - where he’d been.
He died, in October. Of all the stupid things, he fell, hit his head, and no one noticed for too long. Didn’t wake up the next morning. I don’t think his brother and sister even know.
She’s in a bad way. And she’s - all those what-ifs we talked about recently, losing students. She won’t - can’t - hear me about it. Can you come up as soon as you see this? Bring one of the books I found for her, too? I think she’ll eventually want the distraction.
This is me asking a favour. And not asking about other things. Because I can do the arithmancy on those myself. (She is not her most discreet ever - all the more reason for you to talk to her before anyone else does. For the good of the school.)
I have just spent two hours with Septima crying on my shoulder. Can you help?
I know I told you that one of her students last year failed near everything but his Arithmancy OWLS. Despite several of us doing everything we could. (And curse it, it was not enough, and Horace still holds it over me that he was right about that.) And they broke his wand, sent him to the camps.
You know she was called in Saturday to help, got shaken out of bed, spent the whole night doing calculations at the Ministry. After, it hit home just how much Thomas Capper could have helped. That he could have done the arithmancy near enough in his head.
This morning, after her class, she went to ask how he was doing. I don’t know why - no, I’m lying. I would look too. And because she’d been so helpful, someone tracked down where he - where he’d been.
He died, in October. Of all the stupid things, he fell, hit his head, and no one noticed for too long. Didn’t wake up the next morning. I don’t think his brother and sister even know.
She’s in a bad way. And she’s - all those what-ifs we talked about recently, losing students. She won’t - can’t - hear me about it. Can you come up as soon as you see this? Bring one of the books I found for her, too? I think she’ll eventually want the distraction.
This is me asking a favour. And not asking about other things. Because I can do the arithmancy on those myself. (She is not her most discreet ever - all the more reason for you to talk to her before anyone else does. For the good of the school.)
no subject
And speaking of discretion: when we speak tomorrow, remind me to tell you of Minerva's request to me. She seems much improved, and willing to begin regaining whatever ground she might have lost -- and to request my help in that, as well. It is most encouraging.
I have, meanwhile, just finished speaking with Miss Calderwood, and making it plain to her that while I will be more than happy to help her make up the gap in her education forced by her unplanned leave, I will also expect her to ... make better life choices, shall we say. I do not think she will be bothering you further, and if she does I will be swift to step in.
Your,
T
no subject
No, you're right, it strikes people as odd, but it's an old family joke, from when I was little. He was always the one who'd take morning chores so I could sleep in, and I started calling him my best brother for it. We had some trouble when we were both in school rubbing each other the wrong way, but that's long past. (The name, I should note, is a nickname: he's not been called anything else since he was about five and I was three. 'Calm after the', not 'Fury of', as you'll see when you meet him.)
I have added "Minerva, promising conversations" to my list for tomorrow.
As to Miss Calderwood - ah, just as well you're coming up here, actually. I've a thing or two to show you on the way up the tower. We can walk up together after supper, and I can show you the best staircases?
On the larger question, honestly, I wish they hadn't acted as they did. And yet, I'm the last person who can say anything about it, or should. I do promise to tell you if I've the least hint of anything amiss from that possible quarter (and while I don't think I've actually said it in so many words to Raz, obviously, him too.) He was so very restrained last time.