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

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.)

Tosha -

I sat down to write you with my initial solution (relying on a certain arcane application of arithmancy), and then thought of a different trick, which seems to have worked handily. You may thank my Nashira, when you eventually meet her: she flew two markers out for me to measure from. You may also thank the late sunrise this time of year.

At any rate, I’ve calculations that nearly satisfy my desire for precision, encompassing the broadest useful area without unnecessary excess. Diagrams, calculations, and specifics delivered to your office by house-elf. (And thank you for the distraction, truly.)

The castle and lake are easy. Then past the Quidditch pitch, a sufficient distance into the Forbidden Forest, and finally out past the far walls of Hogsmeade, up to that big pine on the hill overlooking everything. (With a broom, they might get beyond the limits, but one can ask Rolanda to manage that part.)

Also, I’ve kept circling back to Mr Moon’s obsessive detail. Having something of a fondness for that kind of thing, I keep wondering about directing it somewhere less idiotic. I’ve a few wisps of ideas, if you’re still thinking along the same lines.

Congratulations, all our first years, on making it through your first week. I promise, it does get easier to figure out how to manage it all.

Now that I’ve seen how some changes to my schedule have shaken out, I have posted a chart of my office hours in the usual places (my classroom and office doors, and duplicated copies in the house common rooms.)

In short:
- various daytime hours on Monday, Wednesday, Friday when I am not teaching.
- 7 to 9pm on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday.
- by request at other times.

In the past, I have offered hours - often very relaxed and conversational - on Sunday afternoons. Between changes to the YPL schedule and my own commitments, it makes sense to schedule these week by week. I also expect to be unavailable on most Tuesday afternoons and early evenings and am generally unavailable in the late afternoon. Additions to my regular hours will be announced in class that week, and posted on Mondays.

Advance warning, fifth, sixth, and seventh years, I will be asking you to make some brief (about two hours total) but specific observations and measurements during the Draconids (October 7-8), Orionids (October 20-21), or Leonids (November 16-17). All three include at least one weekend day, and the Draconids are best visible just after sunset, but your actual options will depend on the weather. (Fifth years: we will jointly pick a midnight session to skip in exchange, and I have a thought about evening sessions and bad weather that might please you - we’ll discuss next week.)

I... Let me try and get this into words, because if I go back to Spence like this, it'll be no end of worry to Raz. I will be so very glad when we're back at school. I was up at Pembroke with the Malfoys (and various others) for the weekend. Well, Thursday, after that horrid In The Soup article ran. And because Stint died near enough by, they had to ask everyone where we all were.

We had the usual problem of any good mystery novel plot where we were not able to provide a suitable alibi for all possible persons at all possible times. (But really, who can. Even Raz and I spent time apart.) They did let us all go as planned Monday morning. And today I spent the morning in the Guild library, which was lovely and engaging, even if I did get lost in a totally different topic than I'd intended. Sorry. Trying to be clear here, and failing utterly.

I left there around two, and went to the Archetype. But just as I got outside - those benches in the square, just before you turn, Poppy - who stops me but that Meniscus Fulton. And he had question after question for me. I hate not thinking faster on my feet, and I'm better than I was, but well. Delia Forney was all business-like and straightforward with her questions at Pembroke. This was much like that mess in January, where he - well, it was Fulton then too - where it was clear he was after something else.

He kept trying to probe, and I kept pointing out I'd be glad to come to MLE and do it properly, and surely a park bench was not the best place. I seem to have discovered a backbone sufficient to deter that far, anyway, because after about fifteen minutes, he gave up trying, and went away, less than satisfied.

Then, as I was finally collecting myself enough to flee into the Archetype, Heloise Laverty caught up with me. I've only met her very briefly, but she wanted to ask her own set of questions. Though, thankfully, that involved a more comfortable chair, less late-summer breeze, and a pot of my favourite tisane blend of theirs.

And she was much more careful - she had some specific questions about my trip to Snowdon with you, Poppy, which Fulton never bothered to ask about (tried to keep you out of it as much as I could, Pomona, without being too obvious). And then wondering, rather off-handedly, what Fulton had been asking me. If I hadn't seen Chiron in that same mode when Daedalus snuck Diane's wand away at Christmas two years ago to try it out, I'd not know what I was looking at. And she said no need to come to MLE, and if they did need to talk further they'd arrange it properly.

Right. I feel a little better having written it all out, (and I seem to have acquired a certain amount of good will in an unexpected quarter) and am going to apply myself to a cream tea before I go back to Raz. I'm still hoping we'll be back tomorrow night, but right now, who knows. And I'm going to drop a word in what I hope is the right ear and see what comes of it.

I hope the public message conveys what I’m trying for: grace and civility and good will. It’s certainly not how I feel. But I’ve known since they told me on the 6th that there truly was nothing I can do about it. They hedged it around with thanks and pretty words, but it was the clearest possible “Your services are no longer required.” one could imagine.

I - well. I don’t have another fight like this spring in me. And, as Raz has pointed out, some of what they’ve been insisting on including is only going to get worse. More difficult. (I don’t know how much of the discussion you’ve seen about the Muggle management sessions, or some of the other challenges. I did what I could, but I couldn’t prevent their inclusion entirely, as inappropriate as I think it is for 16 year olds.)

I’ve hoped for so long that I could moderate some of the worst of it and that if they replaced me, it would be with someone inclined to balance. Or at least practical good sense. Clearly, I’ve failed entirely on the latter, and I wonder about the former as well.

The oversight board took no chances, either. They made the quite blunt threat that if I were difficult, they’d do their best to ensure Raz and I didn’t get permission. I swear it wouldn’t have changed my choice not to fight but I hate they think it might have. Or that you might.

She insists on a clean split, which gives me the shudders - there are so many details she clearly hasn’t grasped yet. And I hate even more that we’ll have to bear with her at school. She keeps trying to give me advice, and unlike you both, of all the wrong sorts.

And again, apologies for not telling you sooner: they gave me an explicit instruction not to tell anyone. (I told Raz, of course, and I did warn Miss Perks on Thursday so she’d have time to brace herself.) Last thing I’ve not been telling you that needed telling, I promise.

Narcissa -

Please bear with my incoherence, but this is so odd to write. You’re the first person I’ve told.

Raz proposed last night, and of course I said yes. (He completely surprised me, and is rather smug about that. I’m delighted. And overwhelmed.) We both hope you’ll be pleased.

I’m also well aware that Our Lord’s permission is both essential and not at all certain. I can’t bear to think what happens if

Raz thought he’d wait until after the Freedom Day celebrations are over before asking for time at Court and that makes sense to me. But I’ve no idea what to expect, or if I can do anything to improve our chances or, well. Any of it.

I’d welcome whatever you could offer. Advice. Support. Information. Ways not to fret. Recommended potions for nerves. I need to be out at the CCF site much of the next three weeks, but I’m expecting to sleep at Spence, and to be able to get free for a few hours most days.

I’m also bursting to tell my family and a few friends, but it must be better to wait until we know what Our Lord’s answer is. But I equally don’t want them to find out (or guess) before that, and I’ve no idea how to balance things. (Though I suppose keeping busy will help.)

You were so clear in April and since that you wish me - us - well. And now I’m terrified it’s all going to implode and disappear, and I’d do anything for it not to. I’m so grateful for your advice and friendship so far, and I’m desperate to get the next part right. For Raz, even more than for me.

Aurora

Poppy -

Thanks again for meeting me Friday. It's such a pleasure to relax with a friend.

I wish I could manage to get away this week, but now that we're traipsing all over New London, it's unlikely. This group is all settled into their rooms, and into the afternoon activities now, though, so at least I've a moment to catch my breath. (And Madam Umbridge did appear this morning, but had a meeting this afternoon, so even she's gone for a bit.)

I don't suppose you've anything else on the Stint front? I've discussed it thoroughly with Raz (for obvious reasons) but anything you might happen to overhear, even just if you see him talking to someone, would be tremendously helpful. I feel like it's all fog and mist, and nothing certain. And it's hard for us to take it further without somewhere to start. "There's this thing, and it's very vague, but I swear he's up to something" seems most unlikely to convince anyone at MLE, especially given the history. I feel foolish saying it even to you, and I know you believe me.

I'm also still holding out hope for an actual vacation at some point, but I admit that's looking harder and harder to manage. How are there so few weeks in the summer?

I hope this week's course treats you a bit better than the previous. And I think Mum may have something to pass along to you, too, next I see her.

It seems impossible that we’re at the end of the year - so much has happened. I know that many will be sorry to see friends and acquaintances from among our guests go, but I’m sure we’ll all enjoy the feast tonight, before seeing the contingents off tomorrow.

At the same time, I do look forward to the summer activities, and then to what next year might bring. And I’ve had a few questions about the summer.

CCF: 4th and 5th years will be participating the same weeks - July 27th to August 18th. You’ll have separate housing and facilities, and largely separate training, but will be working with the same instructors, and sharing some special activities. More information will be sent home as soon as we’ve finished our committee meetings - you should expect an owl June 27th or 28th with all the details.

Students entering 2nd and 3rd year should find information about your trips waiting when you arrive home.

It's rather dire in here, all things considered. You might be glad you're out waiting.

In the corner, we have Alecto, who's glowering at the world, and nearly took off the arm of the last person who came within ten feet. Not that anyone particularly wants to be near her.

Froissart's clearly not happy with any of the situation, but of course he can't do much about any of it. And Karkaroff is just looking stoic. (Though a bunch of the Durmstrang boys have started in on what must be traditional toasts, and at least that's mildly entertaining. "To the motherland!" "To the fatherland!" "To friendship!" though they're degenerating into more chaos now.)

I don't suppose your end of things is better than your fears?

Don’t feel you need to answer until you’ve a chance. I caught a tiny bit of it, but what on earth happened?

I was coming back from New London, and ran into Cedric on my way back in - he had quite a few things he wanted to ask about the third task. I’d like to consult with you on a couple, but, well, they can wait.

But then Harry comes running back up just as we were coming in the main door - looking for you and Poppy, he said - and something had clearly happened. But right at that moment, Isolde Inglebee came looking for Poppy, as Adelaide Zimmerman was having hysterics, and I went off to deal with that, once Harry said you were on your way down.

I’m back up the tower now - teaching midnight to one, but if you want company after, just let me know and I'll come down (or make yourself at home in my rooms.)

New London was fine. (Mum sends love, Gilly approves of my taking time to relax, there’s yet another complication with the CCF. You could set a clock by all three. The last's manageable, thankfully.)