Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Light of Hope
Begin Learning... Now
2 reviewsThe first days of classes begin, and Hope receives a letter.
0Insightful
Light of Hope: Part One
Chapter Nine: Begin Learning… Now
Ginny rested her chin on a hand, staring at the letter before her. When she had first gotten home from the train station, she had dismissed her earlier notion from the platform as ridiculous, embarrassing, and absurd. Twenty-four hours later, she had been seriously considering it.
Her mum had, as usual, dealt with her empty-nest syndrome by scouring the Burrow. Ginny had been awakened at an obscene hour by a hug, then was presented with a fabulous breakfast and a list. Ginny knew from experience that if she was doing something 'constructive' (reading one of Charlie's old texts, writing notes or a letter, making noises on the battered old recorder Bill had given up on years ago, or practicing her cooking skills) her mum wouldn't be so quick to make her de-gnome the garden.
Worse, she was bored. Chores just weren't fun without being able to hear Ron grumbling or watching Percy try to weasel his way out of the most undignified tasks or having to make sure the twins didn't put something odd in her equipment. So much for being able to relish the Burrow's quiet for a few days before starting to miss her siblings.
She had finally decided that she didn't have to actually send anything she wrote, and that the more drafts that she wrote, the less she'd have to work.
She sighed and sat up. She had tried not to make it sound like she was desperate for friendship, even if she was, a bit. It wasn't as if Ron was going to write any more often than the twins, and a girl might be better about that, even if she wasn't related to the person to whom she was writing.
Dear Hope,
My name is Ginny Weasley, and I am Ron Weasley's sister. You don't have to write back if you don't want to, but you looked lonely on the platform and since I knew I'd be lonely with all of my brothers are at Hogwarts, I thought that we could be pen-friends. You can ignore this letter if you want.
I read once that you and your brother grew up with muggles. What was that like? Did you know about magic before you got your letter?
Who did you live with? Were they nice? Were they relatives, or friends of your parents? Do they have any kids?
What's your brother like? Is he annoying, or is he a good brother? I've got six brothers, and no sisters, and most of them treat me like glass. Bill is in Egypt, working with curses the old pharaohs left on the pyramids, and he's cool. He sends me hexes sometimes, and he says I should use them on the twins when I get to Hogwarts. He was head boy, so you wouldn't think he would encourage that sort of thing, but he does. Maybe he doesn't care since he isn't there to deal with it.
Charlie's the next oldest, and he's in Romania, working with the dragons. He comes home with really funny stories and a bunch of burns on his arms where the dragons got him. He was Seeker and Quidditch captain while he was at school.
Percy's next, and he is the most annoying of my brothers. He was parading his Prefect badge around since he got it, dropping in mentions of it everywhere. He wants to be Minister of Magic.
Fred and George are the twins, and I'll describe them together, since most of the time it's really hard to tell them apart. They're both Beaters on the Quidditch team, and it's like they share the same brain. They look exactly the same. You'd think that one freckle would be different, but Charlie said he used to have to keep them in the bathtub and even those are identical. I know that you and Harry aren't identical, but do you think alike?
Ron's in your year, so you probably already know about him, but be warned that he is the most Quidditch-crazy boy in the history of wizardkind, even more then the twins are. He’s also pretty thick, to.
I guess that's it. You don't have to answer any of the questions, if you write back.
Ginny signed the letter quickly, before she could change her mind, then rolled it up, writing the address on the outside. She tied it to Errol’s leg and went to the window, giving the elderly owl a little toss in the right direction.
“Hope, do you not have Astronomy?” Hermione asked when Professor McGonagall handed out schedules on the first day of classes.
“No, it’s pretty pointless without the practical,” Hope replied. She had gotten more used to talking to Hermione and Tair, but Ron was seemingly a lost cause. It seemed that he wasn’t quite sure what to talk about with a girl would couldn’t see the subject.
“But you’ve got everything else…” Hermione leaned a bit closer, examining the schedule, and Hope shifted just the tiniest bit away. “What about Potions? In “Magical Drafts and Potions” it said that color is a key part in determining the time of addition of certain key ingredients… How will you do it?”
Hope remained silent for a few moments, considering her answer. She was saved when Tair said “ease off, Auntie, you don’t have to interrogate her. And we should probably start off to Transfiguration-- we still don’t know where the classroom is.”
Glad for the change of subject, Hope agreed and informed Harry, who told Neville while Hermione elbowed Ron.
With the help of directions from a Prefect, Nearly Headless Nick (the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, who had startled all newcomers by flipping his head off of his neck as if it were a hinge) and the occasional portrait, the six managed to find the classroom just before the bell sounded through the corridors.
The professor began the lesson with an impressive speech about the difficulty and danger of Transfiguration, with dire warnings to anyone who misbehaved. She ended the lecture by turning her desk into a pig and back, thus effectively eliminating any doubts the first-years had on the subject. After that, the had to take pages of intricate notes before they finally performed the first spell: they were to change a match into a needle. No one but Hermione made any headway at all. Seamus did manage to sharpen the end of his match and prick his finger, but when McGonagall prodded it, the point quivered and reshaped into a normal match.
Everyone was given piles of homework; everyone but Hermione was given instructions to practice “only in your Common Room, and only in the presence of two or more prefects.”
\I almost liked it better when there were no students,/ Hope said after their third day of lessons. The lessons themselves were fascinating, and the food was wonderful, but in the hallways, the twins were pointed at and commented on. It wasn’t anything cruel, disregarding the occasional Slytherin, but neither Harry nor Hope liked the feeling that someone was staring at them.
\Only almost?/ Harry wasn’t quite as cowed by all of the gawping, but then, he could at least see who was staring at him.
\Well, yeah. It seems happier with everyone around./
“Hold on,” Harry said aloud. Tair glanced at him, Ron continued to shovel food into his mouth, and Hermione continued to be immersed in “A History of Magic” although her head tilted just the slightest bit. “Nevermind,” Harry mumbled, reddening. \What’s happier?/
\Hogwarts. The castle./
\Riiight…/
\I told you it was sparkly, right? Like almost everything else in the wizarding world?/
\Yeah… didn’t you say it gave you a headache?/ Hope had mentioned it once or twice in the first few days that she was at Hogwarts, and hadn’t brought it up since.
\Right. Well, at first-- I guess I got used to it, and it didn’t bother me so much after about a week./
\And this has to do with a building being happy how?/
\Like I said, the sparkling thing died down, or I got used to it, or something, but when I came back, it was stronger./
\Maybe because you had gotten used to it not being there at the Dursleys’?/
\Well, maybe that too, but it just seemed like… like before it had been a glow, and now it’s a glitter./
\Is it still giving you a headache?/
\No, not much-- I think I was still used to it from before./ Sort of.
\So all we know now is that you would completely hate this place and all things in it, except that the people making you miserable are making the castle happy, so you’re fine with it./
\I’m not any more miserable than you are./ Which wasn’t quite miserable.
\Fine, then-- uncomfortable./
\Would you rather be at the Dursleys?/ Hope demanded.
\Nope./
\Then stop complaining./
Dear Ginny,
Thanks for your letter. I’m glad you wrote, I’ve got questions about the wizarding world and I don’t really know anyone who can answer them. Two of my roommates are wizard born, but they know that I’m wizard-born, so they don’t think that might not know about some things. The same goes for your brother (Ron). You’re right: he is rather thick. My other roommate is muggle-born, so she’s no help, even though she’s reading so many books on the wizarding world that she might as well be born into it. She’s got a nephew in our year, but he grew up with her, so he’s no help, and I don’t really know Harry’s other roommates, or any other first years in other houses.
Oh, that paragraph sounds really whiny. I’ll stop now and answer your questions.
Harry and I grew up with our mum’s sister and her husband: Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They have a son, Dudley, who’s our age, but just a muggle as them. They don’t know much about magic, so they waited until we got our letter to tell us anything about it, so that a wizard could help explain things. It was normal because I didn’t know anything about magic. Both of us are smaller than Dudley, though, so we used to get his hand-me-downs.
Harry’s a good brother. He understands me more that Dudley did, but that may be because we’re twins, and we do think a lot alike. I think your brother infected him with Quidditch Obsession Disorder, though.
What exactly is Quidditch, anyway? I know the very basics, but once I start to ask questions beyond that, whoever’s explaining it to me goes of on some wild, raving explanation or other. Help?
I guess I’ll stop here. I’d explain more about Hogwarts, but if you don’t specify, I may go off on a wild raving explanation myself. This place is wonderful.
You can use Hedwig (that’s my and Harry’s owl, I found the name in “A History of Magic”) to write back--we don’t really have anything else to use her for, and she needs her exercise.
Hope Potter
A/N Like? Love? Loathe? Review! Thanks to Dracis Tran for beta-ing-- If you notice a sudden drop in errors and rise in sense, it's his doing.
Chapter Nine: Begin Learning… Now
Ginny rested her chin on a hand, staring at the letter before her. When she had first gotten home from the train station, she had dismissed her earlier notion from the platform as ridiculous, embarrassing, and absurd. Twenty-four hours later, she had been seriously considering it.
Her mum had, as usual, dealt with her empty-nest syndrome by scouring the Burrow. Ginny had been awakened at an obscene hour by a hug, then was presented with a fabulous breakfast and a list. Ginny knew from experience that if she was doing something 'constructive' (reading one of Charlie's old texts, writing notes or a letter, making noises on the battered old recorder Bill had given up on years ago, or practicing her cooking skills) her mum wouldn't be so quick to make her de-gnome the garden.
Worse, she was bored. Chores just weren't fun without being able to hear Ron grumbling or watching Percy try to weasel his way out of the most undignified tasks or having to make sure the twins didn't put something odd in her equipment. So much for being able to relish the Burrow's quiet for a few days before starting to miss her siblings.
She had finally decided that she didn't have to actually send anything she wrote, and that the more drafts that she wrote, the less she'd have to work.
She sighed and sat up. She had tried not to make it sound like she was desperate for friendship, even if she was, a bit. It wasn't as if Ron was going to write any more often than the twins, and a girl might be better about that, even if she wasn't related to the person to whom she was writing.
Dear Hope,
My name is Ginny Weasley, and I am Ron Weasley's sister. You don't have to write back if you don't want to, but you looked lonely on the platform and since I knew I'd be lonely with all of my brothers are at Hogwarts, I thought that we could be pen-friends. You can ignore this letter if you want.
I read once that you and your brother grew up with muggles. What was that like? Did you know about magic before you got your letter?
Who did you live with? Were they nice? Were they relatives, or friends of your parents? Do they have any kids?
What's your brother like? Is he annoying, or is he a good brother? I've got six brothers, and no sisters, and most of them treat me like glass. Bill is in Egypt, working with curses the old pharaohs left on the pyramids, and he's cool. He sends me hexes sometimes, and he says I should use them on the twins when I get to Hogwarts. He was head boy, so you wouldn't think he would encourage that sort of thing, but he does. Maybe he doesn't care since he isn't there to deal with it.
Charlie's the next oldest, and he's in Romania, working with the dragons. He comes home with really funny stories and a bunch of burns on his arms where the dragons got him. He was Seeker and Quidditch captain while he was at school.
Percy's next, and he is the most annoying of my brothers. He was parading his Prefect badge around since he got it, dropping in mentions of it everywhere. He wants to be Minister of Magic.
Fred and George are the twins, and I'll describe them together, since most of the time it's really hard to tell them apart. They're both Beaters on the Quidditch team, and it's like they share the same brain. They look exactly the same. You'd think that one freckle would be different, but Charlie said he used to have to keep them in the bathtub and even those are identical. I know that you and Harry aren't identical, but do you think alike?
Ron's in your year, so you probably already know about him, but be warned that he is the most Quidditch-crazy boy in the history of wizardkind, even more then the twins are. He’s also pretty thick, to.
I guess that's it. You don't have to answer any of the questions, if you write back.
Ginny signed the letter quickly, before she could change her mind, then rolled it up, writing the address on the outside. She tied it to Errol’s leg and went to the window, giving the elderly owl a little toss in the right direction.
“Hope, do you not have Astronomy?” Hermione asked when Professor McGonagall handed out schedules on the first day of classes.
“No, it’s pretty pointless without the practical,” Hope replied. She had gotten more used to talking to Hermione and Tair, but Ron was seemingly a lost cause. It seemed that he wasn’t quite sure what to talk about with a girl would couldn’t see the subject.
“But you’ve got everything else…” Hermione leaned a bit closer, examining the schedule, and Hope shifted just the tiniest bit away. “What about Potions? In “Magical Drafts and Potions” it said that color is a key part in determining the time of addition of certain key ingredients… How will you do it?”
Hope remained silent for a few moments, considering her answer. She was saved when Tair said “ease off, Auntie, you don’t have to interrogate her. And we should probably start off to Transfiguration-- we still don’t know where the classroom is.”
Glad for the change of subject, Hope agreed and informed Harry, who told Neville while Hermione elbowed Ron.
With the help of directions from a Prefect, Nearly Headless Nick (the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, who had startled all newcomers by flipping his head off of his neck as if it were a hinge) and the occasional portrait, the six managed to find the classroom just before the bell sounded through the corridors.
The professor began the lesson with an impressive speech about the difficulty and danger of Transfiguration, with dire warnings to anyone who misbehaved. She ended the lecture by turning her desk into a pig and back, thus effectively eliminating any doubts the first-years had on the subject. After that, the had to take pages of intricate notes before they finally performed the first spell: they were to change a match into a needle. No one but Hermione made any headway at all. Seamus did manage to sharpen the end of his match and prick his finger, but when McGonagall prodded it, the point quivered and reshaped into a normal match.
Everyone was given piles of homework; everyone but Hermione was given instructions to practice “only in your Common Room, and only in the presence of two or more prefects.”
\I almost liked it better when there were no students,/ Hope said after their third day of lessons. The lessons themselves were fascinating, and the food was wonderful, but in the hallways, the twins were pointed at and commented on. It wasn’t anything cruel, disregarding the occasional Slytherin, but neither Harry nor Hope liked the feeling that someone was staring at them.
\Only almost?/ Harry wasn’t quite as cowed by all of the gawping, but then, he could at least see who was staring at him.
\Well, yeah. It seems happier with everyone around./
“Hold on,” Harry said aloud. Tair glanced at him, Ron continued to shovel food into his mouth, and Hermione continued to be immersed in “A History of Magic” although her head tilted just the slightest bit. “Nevermind,” Harry mumbled, reddening. \What’s happier?/
\Hogwarts. The castle./
\Riiight…/
\I told you it was sparkly, right? Like almost everything else in the wizarding world?/
\Yeah… didn’t you say it gave you a headache?/ Hope had mentioned it once or twice in the first few days that she was at Hogwarts, and hadn’t brought it up since.
\Right. Well, at first-- I guess I got used to it, and it didn’t bother me so much after about a week./
\And this has to do with a building being happy how?/
\Like I said, the sparkling thing died down, or I got used to it, or something, but when I came back, it was stronger./
\Maybe because you had gotten used to it not being there at the Dursleys’?/
\Well, maybe that too, but it just seemed like… like before it had been a glow, and now it’s a glitter./
\Is it still giving you a headache?/
\No, not much-- I think I was still used to it from before./ Sort of.
\So all we know now is that you would completely hate this place and all things in it, except that the people making you miserable are making the castle happy, so you’re fine with it./
\I’m not any more miserable than you are./ Which wasn’t quite miserable.
\Fine, then-- uncomfortable./
\Would you rather be at the Dursleys?/ Hope demanded.
\Nope./
\Then stop complaining./
Dear Ginny,
Thanks for your letter. I’m glad you wrote, I’ve got questions about the wizarding world and I don’t really know anyone who can answer them. Two of my roommates are wizard born, but they know that I’m wizard-born, so they don’t think that might not know about some things. The same goes for your brother (Ron). You’re right: he is rather thick. My other roommate is muggle-born, so she’s no help, even though she’s reading so many books on the wizarding world that she might as well be born into it. She’s got a nephew in our year, but he grew up with her, so he’s no help, and I don’t really know Harry’s other roommates, or any other first years in other houses.
Oh, that paragraph sounds really whiny. I’ll stop now and answer your questions.
Harry and I grew up with our mum’s sister and her husband: Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They have a son, Dudley, who’s our age, but just a muggle as them. They don’t know much about magic, so they waited until we got our letter to tell us anything about it, so that a wizard could help explain things. It was normal because I didn’t know anything about magic. Both of us are smaller than Dudley, though, so we used to get his hand-me-downs.
Harry’s a good brother. He understands me more that Dudley did, but that may be because we’re twins, and we do think a lot alike. I think your brother infected him with Quidditch Obsession Disorder, though.
What exactly is Quidditch, anyway? I know the very basics, but once I start to ask questions beyond that, whoever’s explaining it to me goes of on some wild, raving explanation or other. Help?
I guess I’ll stop here. I’d explain more about Hogwarts, but if you don’t specify, I may go off on a wild raving explanation myself. This place is wonderful.
You can use Hedwig (that’s my and Harry’s owl, I found the name in “A History of Magic”) to write back--we don’t really have anything else to use her for, and she needs her exercise.
Hope Potter
A/N Like? Love? Loathe? Review! Thanks to Dracis Tran for beta-ing-- If you notice a sudden drop in errors and rise in sense, it's his doing.
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