Serpentine

cw: Spanish pejorative for indigenous/native persons that my fellow Mexicans are often way too comfortable using :\ 

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July 4, 1940

Hello,

I was surprised by your letter. But it's good that you're writing.

Everything here remains the same as it was when I left. I think, maybe, it will stay the same next year. And the year after that. If I went to sleep for a hundred years and woke up in the next century, it would remain the same. The consistency of the abbey is comforting. It's as if time doesn't pass in here. Most don't like it, but I have grown accustomed. And that is the same as it being comforting.

I do cook for the sisters, still. It is considered one of my chores. I enjoy it. Their diet isn't very colorful, though, especially now that the war is happening. We're lucky that we grow our own food here with the help of a greenhouse. I never thought I could have fresh tomatoes on English soil and have them taste good. It's wonderful. I mailed some to Elle when I was able to sneak away long enough to do so. If I'm able, I'll send a couple to you as well. I'll have to wait and see how the food is being rationed. Everyone is careful, and I don't blame them. Last night I had a dream that there was only the leather off my shoes left to eat. Considering how valuable leather is now, I hope it won't come to that.

Jobs are easy to come into now. Instead of an apprenticeship, I work at a restaurant owned by Spanish immigrants. They don't speak any English, and they're related to the Abbess, so it was an easy fit. I work after my chores are done most of the week, and never on Sunday. It's a place of community for the immigrants in the neighborhood (as well as beyond), but I'm not sure I belong there. My accent is different from all of theirs, and my features wrong. They say I look 'Indita', which is a phrase that I've come to learn means 'American Indian'. They say it with affection, but I do not think it's meant to be said with affection. Still, I stay silent.

I am an outsider everywhere.

September the first was strange for me too. At first, I was going to go up to Scotland with the rest of the children in my city, but instead of being taken on their train, I was taken to Platform 9¾ as always. Señora Rivera takes my education very seriously, I think. I don't know what she told the rest of the sisters here, but no one seemed surprised to see me return with my trunk. I don't ask questions. I don't know if I'll be returning here for next Yule Holiday.

Your dream is a very commonly occurring omen; a bird flying through the open window of your house means someone in the house is going to die. I've never heard of it happening in a dream, though. Was there anyone else in the house with you? Was the house your orphanage or another building?

Divination is a fine enough class to take if you wish to be able to read signs and omens, but once you reach past fourth year, you have to rely on what they call The Sight. I do not have this sight, so I do not think I will be continuing my pursuits there.

I would write more but I have chores to complete.

We are still not friends,

Ximena

...

7/6/1940

Dear Jon,

To this day I wonder if our parents made the right decision in their migration to Britain. I think I will continue to wonder until we are both buried in the earth. And beyond.

How is my brother? He continues to not communicate with me despite my scoldings. I swear he thinks he'll live forever. Rachel wrote back to me today. Both the Muggle and magical Americans are unconcerned with the war, on various fronts. I do not think they are eager to repair their foreign relations with the rest of us. Actually, I don't even think they know there's anything to repair. Americans are like that.

But enough of that. I hope you are alive and well. Enough to read this. Enough to write back, though I already know you won't, and I hate you for it. Why won't you let me know you're alright? Grindelwald might not outright say it, but he's after you as well. All of us. My parents don't know if it's safer to stay here where Dumbledore's able to hold him back, or to run over where their siblings are in the States. I don't think we can outrun them. Hogwarts might be safe now, but it's only a matter of time before it's not. I will not be returning, I don’t think.

I can't spare much more paper, unfortunately. Rationing affects all of us who cannot use magic outside of school.

With love,

Elle Kowalska (soon to be Smith)

...

Jul. 10, 1940

From the desk of Armando Dippet, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus:

It appears the Muggle war is affecting us more than originally believed. Alongside over seventy separate withdrawals from our halls, the amount of missing students from over the Winter Holiday has been leaked. The Prophet is at our throats, and it hasn't even been a whole week since the end of year! I fear the worst is yet to come to our school and reputations. We must remain firm!

According to the rounds you made at the beginning of the year, the incoming student body who reside in Muggle households is unprecedented. There must have been something in the air that spring because the crop is mostly composed of Muggleborns than half and purebloods put together. More alarming than this is the fact that they seem to be living in homes without their parents, or any blood-relation. Inquiry into this with our resident Muggle Studies professor reveals that the Muggles have sent their young off to the north into stranger's households for safety! What in the Founders' Name is Muggle Germany suspected of planning? Kidnapping them from their London homes? I was told they have the power to attack and kill from the air, but we both know how ridiculous that is. Muggles cannot fly.

Regardless of the reasons, it is much too risky to go to these foreign homes to retrieve the witches in question. If the guardians cannot be convinced into allowing them to attend the school without knowing where exactly they are going, then we cannot accept this new generation of Muggleborns. The resources needed to keep up the illusions are astronomical. Not to mention the ethics involved in not telling the student's parents, which we cannot do without the magical child being in the same room!

While I am sure you will protest this line of logic, I assure you that one more year for these students isn't enough to set them back very far. There's little danger in the unbound magic of a few eleven year old Muggleborns compared to the drained assets it would cause us as a school. I understand you have quite a good position in your many organizations, but will it be enough to rally these Purists into helping those they see as lesser?

I hope to hear good news from your end soon.

Cordially,

Armando Dippet

...

July the Thirteenth, 1940 22:11 Casablanca, Morocco

My dear Yamuna,

Your sister continues to terrorize the East with her soft spokenness and cheerful demeanor. I expect you are doing the same to the North with your hardheadedness and cold demeanor. There's a time and place for that.

Can I expect you to arrive on time for the announcement of your sister's engagement? Or must I, once again, make excuses for your absence? Let me know. It's easier to create an alibi if everyone is present. Fear won't control the accusations. Evidence will.

I love you.

Your mother,

Ajay Acarya

…

July 15th, 1940 Sunday

Dear Hedwig,

I wanted to ask you before the gossip got out if you regret your decision to be a part of my ensemble for the Carrows' Engagement party. Knowing you, I'll still receive a completely enthusiastic and impolite response of 'no', but I wanted to be sure. The rumor mill is cruel and quick.

Please know and listen: I never did thank you for continuing to speak to me after my uncle's resignation. You and I both know how critical appearances are, even at our early age. It is with my sincerest gratitude that I say: I appreciate our friendship. I will not disappoint you.

While our worlds might be different as can be, I've decided to do my best to help you on the subject of your inheritance. The laws within Ireland are surely similar enough to ours here in England (after all, our magic came from fae courts), and I am better versed in the law than all six of my sisters combined. That, I promise. And that I know you'll believe. Everyone always underestimates the baby of the family, don't they? They don't quite believe we're capable of much aside from being spoiled and loved the most (on behalf of my father, in my case, and your mother on yours). Perhaps after we're finished, they'll think differently?

Have you written to Lane yet? I'm still much too shy to try and call her by her first name, though it looks as if she might prefer it. Did you notice the look she gets when someone refers to her by her family name? I suppose it makes sense, there's no Lane Family for her to lay claim to. I certainly wouldn't want to be known as Fawley if all my family was gone. Living without a legacy behind you is a horrendous thought. I'm glad we were able to help her in her hour of need. My family found her to be a delightful curiosity! I do hope she didn't feel like she was on display with them. Hospitality is a staple of Hufflepuff households, and while I, myself, am a snake, I am no stranger to the kindness of badgers. I'll write to her immediately after penning this letter to you. Perhaps I'll send some sweets as well!

Tom’s letters are as brief and polite as always, but it worries me that he doesn’t have any family to spend the Summer with. Do you think we can plan a little something for him in the future? Maybe not the whole summer, the implications of that might be too much for polite society, but at least a week or two. Your family’s home, of course, would be the proper place to host. Gods above know my family would love to have Tom over, but I think they might all overwhelm him just as they did Lane. I know your sister is a little harsh about boys, but don't you think he could charm the warmth out of her heart? I do. But you know how I feel on that front.

Do you still think I have

How much focus do you think the Pureblood Directory will receive during Burke's Engagement? I'd stake my inheritance on it stealing the show (Missus Burke will blow her top, I'm sure), alongside the inheritance of all six of my sisters. Eris' in particular, she borrowed my favorite hair clip without telling me! Do you know where that hair clip is now? She doesn't know either. The last time she saw it, it was New Years. She suspects it got lost in the Wild Hunt. I confess, I almost let myself be overcome with primal anger. But I digress: the Pureblood Directory is around to ruin the days and parties of everyone. Even those it benefits. You remember that club at Hogwarts? There's a much more grown up and much more serious version of it brewing. I don't know the details, but Euphoria's husband was discussing it with my father last night during dinner. They're both unconcerned, and find amusement in the idea. I can't say I share the sentiment.

I'm scared over it all, truly. Grindelwald might not exactly be a Purist, but he's certainly no champion for the common people. You know they call his movement 'advancism'? If we get a slot for it during this next election season, I'll move to Spain, I swear by it. Not that they're any better on the Muggle side. You know they just finished up a civil war? All this time and no one told me. It's terrifying. All this killing happening right under our noses, and we sit by drinking tea and eating cakes and doing nothing. Passively watching mice commit mass genocide to their kind. Not that Muggles are like mice, but we certainly treat them as such, don't we?

I apologise for how upsetting this letter has gotten. Onto more happy subjects! I've included a few goodies I know you'll like, including our house elf's special recipe for coconut macaroons! I never knew foreign fruit could be so lovely, Mama always discourages it. Now I'll be sure to ask for plenty more when in Hogwarts, or at your family's home. Did you say your Puff's favorite fruit was coconut? Or some other tropical fruit?

I hope to meet her soon. She sounds lovely.

Sincerely,

Nemesis Fawley

P.S. The photograph is of my Nephew! He was born just last week! Isn't he so darling?

…

July the Nineteenth, 1940

Mali Mali, quite contrary: I didn't think an owl could look sassy and annoyed until I saw mine come back from all the way across the ocean. Heh. I hope it enjoys the journey to you a lot better. You think it ran into some of the German planes everyone's so worried about? If it were a couple of decades ago, I'd say it ran into the Red Baron.

How are things on your side of the south? Just as backward as mine? Everyone is such a coward, it makes me sick. Even if keeping out of the war was doable, isn't it our duty to do something regardless? Call me a righteous idiot (like I know you will), but something needs to be done. I guess they call that the Gryffindor spirit, huh?

Mama threw a big ball for my return from school. Invited all of her mom's old acquaintances from before she was disowned. Pops felt mighty uncomfortable around all those stuffy bats. You'd think they'd actually have had a conversation with a no-maj, but I guess not. I thought Britain was slow on the cultural diffusion, but I was wrong. Tons of those eggs were talking about that Sacred 28 nonsense and suggesting that something similar should happen here. Guess we Yanks had to learn from someone, huh? Ain't that just the way?

I missed the woods from my house. It has a different smell than the trees in Scotland. The earth feels right under my feet. I remember you talking about your home in Mentone and it sure sounded wonderful. Well, as wonderful as Alabama can get. You won't catch me putting a single toe outside my town unless I damn well need to. These are ugly times, and they'll only get uglier. Stay safe.

You got mail from the rest of the kids in our year? They're all so optimistic, I envy them. What is there to look forward to? The House Cup and Quidditch Cup all seem so pointless now. How many Muggleborns there do you reckon will get pushed into the war out of duty? I don’t know how old they gotta be over there, but lying is easy. It’s how my cousin got signed up and killed in The Great War. Auntie still won’t talk about him.

Dark times, huh?

You fixin on going to Hogwarts next year? My mama’s not keen on it because she likes knowing I’m closeby at all times. And, of course, the whole war thing. I’m trying to move away from such a sad subject, but it looks like I keep coming back to it anyways. I’m scared about it too. Even if everyone here wants to keep out of it, I know it’s only a matter of time until this nation gets wrapped up in the conflict. What do you think? Another staged attack? It’ll be the Spanish-American War all over again. The Mexican-American War. And so on. I wonder what we’ll win in the spoils this time around. Maybe we'll finally get around to setting up more colonies in the East?

What about you, are you set on staying here in the good US of A, or have you decided to try and finish up your education at Hogwarts? I know 'Mena will miss you quite terribly, alongside your little badger posse. You even made a few good impressions with the lions, actually. Charlus is still terrified, I think you scared all the color out of his skin, poor guy. His heir will come out snow white!

If we make it to 7th year together at good ol' Hoggy-Hogwarts, I hope you'll let me buy you that shot of daisyroot draught. Not a date though, I know you like tomatoes.

Don’t be a stranger

Adam

…



RECEIVED at

176 C KA CS 33 Paid. Via Norfolk Va

Melinda Miller July 27

7 Hawthorne Rd

Keep boy at home Dream from seer aunt foretells misfortune on castle topped isle filled with black dogs Repeated visions like seizures hourly Hurricane to arrive at coastline Stand by for further instructions

Katerina Johnson 525P

…

August 1st

Lil' Viper, I swear to you I've never written a letter before in my life. You're the first one, of course! I'm happy to hear from you, I was worried for sec that maybe those mean old Germans got to ya.

To answer your questions in the order you asked them: absolutely not, possibly, only on the weekends, and talcum powder (surprisingly!) You'd be surprised at how many domestic household products help out with a simple summoning. What kind of monster are you trying to wrangle? A faerie? A hulder? It better be something small and harmless, or I swear to all my Gods, I'll swim across that ocean between us and yank on your pretty little ears so hard, they'll stretch out permanently. You're too curious for your own good and too smart to be that curious. Summon safely. You're not a summoner, you're a baby. Barely going into your fourth year! At fourteen, all I was concerned with was figuring out whether it was worth the money to invest in a wand (it's not, I'm glad you didn't pay a single penny for yours). At fourteen, all you seem to want to do is get yourself into trouble. I kid, of course, I know the trouble you've gotten yourself in isn't at all your fault.

I'm sorry about Adam, hon. I told you he was a ham. A well meaning one, but a ham nonetheless. What are you doing chasing after older boys, anyhow? They're rotten. Take it from me. If a boy Adam's age EVER tries to tell you how mature for your age you are, they're lying snakes and they're up to no good. I'm just happy Adam was one of the good ones. If he tried to take advantage of you, I'd have had to kill him. The requirements for being a good person are that low. Trust me when I say that you have plenty of time to fool around with crushes and love and walking out with someone. Your whole life, even. You're not going to latch onto someone at first sight and stay pining at their side for years to come, real life doesn't work like that. Just let it happen. Weren't you telling me about someone you thought was pretty cute in your neighbourhood? Tell me about them. They're your age, right? That's a perfect start.

I don't have a sweetheart at home, but I have my eye on someone. I don't wanna jinx it just in case, but we've been in touch. No letters, just scrying. More secure that way. Almost face to face, voice to voice, breath to breath.

Look at me, almost writing poetry. You'd think I was smitten.

Stay out of trouble, your friend Mali.

…

fuck I don't know, it's monday maybe

Tom,

Stop being a paranoid fuck and accept our offer. What the hell do you think is going to happen? That Nem is going to ravish you in the middle of the night? That Eric will be standing over your bed with a wand pointed at you? You're not that special despite what you think. Enjoy yourself for once in your damn life. See how a proper Slytherin is supposed to live and watch my parents scramble to make an impression on a little thirteen year old boy (that's you in case you're being stupid today). Write back with a date that's good for you and let whoever takes care of you and the rest of those Muggle cretins know you'll be away.

Hedwig

P.S. Who the hell have you been writing to, poor Higgins is exhausted all the time. You better not be writing to bloody Evan and Girl Rosier, they live too far for the poor bastard to fly there so often.

P.P.S. No, before you ask, Lane isn't coming. We tried.

…

Sabado, Diez de Agosto del año 1940 16:07 Guernica

Querida Aide,

Más feo se ponen los tiempos aquí en nuestra tierra. Vine aquí para visitar con mi madre por la primera vez desde que los muggles destruyeron la ciudad. Cuando me contó de la devastación, no lo creí. No quería creerlo. Pero ya que estoy aquí, años después, no tengo nada más que hacerlo.

Los llaman Fascistas. Al gobierno nuevo de los muggles. Es una palabra rara y feo, y no me gusta. Dónde están los tiempos de los reyes y señores? Pues, dicen que todavía hay rey de España, pero quién sabe dónde está.

Bueno, te escribo para preguntar como esta mi ahijada. Siempre fue la más delicada, ya sabes, y es la más chiquita. Todo ese trauma que le dio mi sobrino de seguro se le quedó en la mente (nuestra familia manda nuestros condolencias, como siempre.) Quería pedir tu permiso para traerla hasta la mansión para que juega un poquito con Evan (todavía la dejas jugar? O eres tan terca como siempre?) Ha sido tando años que no jugaban juntos...Y más: tantos años que no hablábamos tú y yo. Erebus no es tan posesivo, o sí?

Es mas, te quería proponer algo con nuestros hijos: que dices con comprometerlos? Siempre soñaba con juntar nuestros familias. Te imaginas compartir nietos? Ya que salio esta maldita Directorio de Sangre Pura, quiere romper el compromiso que tiene Evan con la hija de los Owens. Esta bien involucrado con esta locura. Tanto que quiere arriesgar el ruina de sus alianzas. Todo por asegurarse que la línea Rosier se queda pura. Afortunadamente, nosotras nos casamos con sangre buena. O sangre con suerte. Quizás las dos.

Te manda saludos mi esposo y hijo.

Con mucho cariño,

Guillermina Rosier

…

August the Seventeenth, Nineteen Forty

Katux,

It's inevitable, and the more you deny it, the more it'll hurt you when the change is complete. I won't waste more parchment on breaking the fragile bubble of your reality.

Both our families stand the same with this damned list. Everything that's been happening since our first year has led up to this. Even Ian's mistake. His house arrest is infuriatingly annoying. Everytime I visit Druella, he's miserable. He won't see anybody. As if he were bound solely to his room. His house elf is distressed all the time about it. But I cannot say that he does not deserve it. Though I know how you feel about Lane in particular, you must admit how much better the environment is without him around.

Was your Summer Solstice as mundane as mine? My parents still refuse to allow me to accompany them in their traditions. At this rate, I expect I will not be allowed to participate even when I am head of the family with children of my own. I understand their reasons, naturally, I am young despite my maturity. And still the spare, despite being the heir. But I wouldn't sabotage my chances of living just like that. May my former elder sibling rest in peace, but I'm different.

...Excuse the spillage, Acwellan's bloody mad owl just crashed through the window. I swear she commands it to attack me, it almost bit off the tip of my finger the other day. Next week, it'll try to scratch out my eyes. You'll know of my injuries at the Carrow twins' engagement party. I very well cannot roll my eyes at Abbas and Topaz if they've been pecked out. Tragic. It'll be as faux pas as not going at all (a fate I wish I shared with Riddle, lucky orphan). How long until people realize he can't just waltz into wizard territory whenever he damn well pleases? You realize, of course, we'll have to change that. Just another thing on the check off list.

In the short bit of unruined parchment I have left I leave you with this advice: do not take Divination.

Evan Rosier

…

Sunday, August the twenty fifth, 1940

Ximena,

The radio says that we bombed Berlin today. Just like Churchill said we would. It seems like a meaningless retaliation, they'll just strike back. And we'll strike back too.

Yesterday, when West End was bombed, I could hear the explosions from my room. Wool's is just on the other side of the river. I thought I was going to die…