I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

Mum, Dad -

Madam Pinkness is being truly destructive. To teaching. To students. To trust and loyalty and the ability to work hard. To the things that matter most.

I’m about to do something that may cause a great deal of trouble. For you, not just me, if she follows through on her threats. I know you said, that bad weekend in January, that it’d be all right if that happened. I - some things just need doing.

Forgive me?

I had to tell you first. Because you matter too. Mum, that story you told last week, about balancing different loyalties, and talking to Storm and Dittany on Friday. Just - I’m trying to do the best thing by the people who can’t do it alone. And you’ve said you can manage.

I’ve held off because I love you, and I didn’t want you paying for something I did. That’s not fair. But it’s past time to do what’s right. I hope you understand

It was quite fun yesterday to see all the different creative ideas for Valentines - such a nice break in the middle of the winter. And hearing the buzz about the Frost Faire - those who’ve seen the latest photos, I can only say they don’t do the streets any justice, from what parts I saw last night.

Seventh years: I’m delighted to say I’m ahead of schedule with comments on your research proposals. They all look quite strong, and there are a couple I’m particularly intrigued by. If you’d like them back sooner than Friday’s class, stop by during office hours.

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.

Any more news this morning? I heard you cancelled classes (much the topic of discussion in my last class this morning), so I hope it's just a need for sleep and solitude, and not something worse.

I've got a class up here now, but in about an hour, I'd be free, if there's anything you'd like me to bring down to you. (They're working on charts, which doesn't leave much for me to do but answer the occasional question. Which is leaving me a lot of time for thinking.) If not, of course, don't feel obliged.

Oh, Mum, it's been awful.

Thank you for the owl with the tonic potion - it's helped a bit. But all I could think about last night is that I should have spent the day reviewing with students, and then marking papers and drinking with Raz.

And instead, one of my students, a sweet girl - and from my own house - is dead, and Raz injured, and everything as strange and chaotic and unpredictable as my final years of school were. Those times when people would disappear, or their parents die, or mysterious things happen that you only half-heard in gossip. And then there are all those affected most closely - Percy Weasley's barely been seen in public spaces, and I'm sure Miss Lestrange is not much better off. The visitation last night was horrible - all her friends missing her so much - but of course, I had to be there.

Of course, even if I had news, I couldn't pass it on, but truly, I don't know much beyond the public announcements you'll have seen. I stop by the infirmary twice a day, as much to see if Poppy needs an errand run as anything else, but other than that, it's been marking that still has to be done, and finding things for students (and me) to do that fill their hands without requiring too much of their minds. (My telescopes are cleaner and my office and classroom are better organized than they've been in years.)

In between, there's been meetings of all kinds - staff talking about how to go forward with exams, getting called in for conversations with the Board and the MLE who are investigating various pieces of events. And of course, the three people I'd normally want time with - Poppy, Pomona, and Raz - are all far busier than I or unavailable. (Pomona's been hit doubly hard: not only was Hannah in her house, but she was showing quite some promise in Herbology.)

I do still plan to take a few days with you when school's out for the summer, but then I'll need to throw myself back into YPL planning. Is there any chance you could keep most of the family away, though? I really do need a few days of peace and quiet somewhere. If you think that's too complicated, I might do a short walking tour instead, and then commute with you to New London for the YPL meetings so we'd still get some time together.

My love to the family,
A.

At least that's what it feels like - at least half my family has sent me one asking for news of yesterday. First, the Prophet had quite a decent story, all things considered. (And yes, Mum, the students in those photos are both in my classes, though I won't teach them till tomorrow.) It was quite a lot of pageantry, though.

We gathered at 2pm in the castle entry, to walk all the students out to the Forbidden Forest. They'd cleared a pathway in, and set up pavillions and seats and it was all quite safe, though several students jumped a bit at some rustling in the underbrush. We all got settled (by house, which is just convenient, since the prefects know their housemates well), and the Lord Protector and the others with him all got there. Some students, of course, got to sit with their parents or guardians - always a treat to see each other during term-time.

Once everyone was quiet, Parvati came out wearing that beautiful dress. The crown was mostly flowers from Pomona's greenhouse (with a few herbs traditionally used for this hunt, so she said at breakfast) and a few very early buds from outside, I think. She sat, and we all waited - well, rather longer than people wished, maybe. It's still not exactly warm out, and our younger students do get a tad restless.

But then the unicorn appeared on the far side of the clearing, away from the seating, and walked very slowly over to her and knelt, and put its head in her lap. Really, there's a reason people make tapestries of it, as it's a beautiful sight, like nothing else on earth. She petted it a little, and then stood, and put a rope carefully around its neck, and led it off. (They'd built a little temporary stable for it on the grounds.)

We then all paraded back - I just had a moment to make my entry yesterday - and all went into feast. Very nice, I must say, with some special treats for the students, and of course, some quite extraordinary dishes for the high table including a gorgeous spun sugar and marzipan subtlety of a unicorn for the pudding course. They set up a number of tables on the dais, though of course I was well toward the back, as we were honoring the Lord Protector and his chosen guests.

At the end, everyone stood, and waited while the Lord Protector and his guests processed out, and then we sent everyone off to bed. I helped Pomona round up the stragglers, and get them all into the house common room at least, and then did a bit of walking the halls to make sure we had no strays before I came up to bed. Quite a long day, all told, especially given we had normal classes in the morning, even though I cancelled last night's observations.