Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
12 September, 1991

Dear Mum and Dad,

          I wanted to reply sooner, but lots of things have happened this week, most of them not really pleasant. It's strange, Hogwarts is so different from any of the other schools, but the people don't look all that different in a way. And sometimes this is reassuring because it's not all that unfamiliar despite the moving classrooms and talking portraits on the walls, but other times it's just so annoying!

          I was so happy when I got your letter, Mum. I miss you and Dad so much. And I love the way you write, it shows how intelligent and refined you are, I wish I could write like that. I'll pay attention to the dangling prepositions and split infinitives, I know I use them a lot and it's not really elegant. Sadly, we don't have English classes at Hogwarts. I don't even know if the teachers check our grammar or not, I'll probably find out next week when our first work will be handed back with corrections. If they do, I'm sure it will be a nasty surprise to some of my classmates. Learning magic is hard, but I see no excuse to disregard basic studies entirely, I wish we had at least English, Math and Foreign Languages here too.

          I was just re-reading your letter before starting this, and I was wincing at what you said about Harry Potter, because I know it was what I said that made you imagine him that way, but in fact this last week's events proved my first impression of him to be wrong after all. He's not that shy and doesn't seem to mind at all being the centre of attention. Or rather, he doesn't mind as long as people are applauding him. But not everyone drops to their knees in awe and adoration just from being in his presence.

          Last Friday we had our first Potions lesson and Professor Snape started the class with a quick quiz about two of the books in the first-years' booklist, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and Magical Drafts and Potions. Potter didn't get one single answer right and Professor Snape concluded he had not even bothered to open the books before the term started, and I bet he was right. Potter didn't even know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane! I knew, of course, and in fact I knew the answers for all the questions the teacher asked Potter, so I raised my hand, but I reckon Professor Snape didn't see me, he was staring at Potter the whole time—and he has that kind of stare that makes you want to crawl under the carpet and die. It was so horrible, I had the answers on the tip of my tongue, and Professor Snape had made very clear that only a few students in every year prove to be up to his expectations so I was eager to make a good impression, but he just wouldn't look my way! When he asked about the monkshood and wolfsbane I got on my feet with my hand raised so he could see me, but then Potter decided to play smart and told the teacher to ask me instead. So then everyone in the class was looking at me, and I was standing and waving my hand to get the teacher's attention, and everyone laughed! I was so embarrassed! And the worst part was that Professor Snape took one point from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek, and I'm afraid the others will reckon it's partially my fault.

          But that wasn't the only point Potter lost us in that class. We were divided in pairs to brew a potion called Medeori Ulcus, which is supposed to heal boils. I was paired with Lavender, who was a little nervous and not very careful when measuring the ingredients, so I had to double-check the quantities and weights. Still Professor Snape thought we had added too many horned slugs. Potions might be even harder than Transfiguration. We, the Gryffindor first-years, have Potions with the Slytherin first-years, and only one student—a blond boy from the Slytherin House called Malfoy—got praised by the teacher. We don't know if any of us would have got to brew a working potion because Neville—the boy who lost his pet toad in the train, remember?—forgot to put out the fire under the cauldron before adding the porcupine quills, and the bottom of his partner's cauldron melted away. Soon there was this oily, foetid, brownish liquid covering the floor of the entire classroom and we had to climb on our desks. Lavender got some of it on her shoes and the leather got all blistered and botched. Poor Neville got it on his face and arms, and boils started popping up on his skin, it was gross, and his partner had to take him to the Hospital Wing. And the teacher took another point from us because he said Potter saw Neville doing it wrong and didn't warn him. I don't know if Potter saw it or not, I was too busy trying to stop Lavender from ruining our potion, but I don't know what difference he could have made. Considering his performance in the quiz, I don't reckon Potter knew the danger of heating porcupine quills to high temperatures.

          Later that afternoon, just before dinner, I went to the Hospital Wing with Lavender and Parvati to visit Neville. He was bandaged almost from head to toe but he looked a lot better already, playing cards with two other boys of our class. (Not Potter though. The Boy Who Lived apparently couldn't make the time to visit an injured roommate.)

          I spent most of the weekend in the library. Oh mum, I wish you could see it! You'd never want to get out of there until you had read every single book on those shelves, and even reading a book a day you'd need about ten lifetimes to read them all. I'm completely fascinated about the history of magic. Too bad we're allowed to borrow only four books at a time, it's so hard to choose! Now I'm on the first volume of The Medieval Warlocks by Terencius Gaunt, The Tynemouth Battles: 113 Years of Lethal Sorcery by Clio Dimicatio and Wands of Conspiracy, a recent biography of the terrible dark wizard Grindelwald, by Catilina Eschenbach. My roommates said I'm crazy for borrowing three large books at once, but I've already finished the last two, and I told them they too could read them now, as long as they remembered to return them by Saturday, or else I'll have my library card suspended for two weeks, but they weren't interested. Parvati said she's read Eschenbach's last book, Sixtus IV and the Arithmancist, a historical novel about the witch-hunting during the Spanish Inquisition, and she found it too boring. That's hard to believe, Eschenbach's style is so vibrant! She makes me feel like I'm seeing the scenes unroll right in front of me.

          The fourth book I borrowed this weekend was Quidditch Through the Ages, by Kennilworthy Whisp. The first six chapters are very interesting, telling the evolution of the sports on broomstick since the tenth century, but from then on it becomes progressively more dull as it starts describing Quidditch teams, broomstick models and game rules. Unfortunately, I had to read it thoroughly with my full attention because I knew our first flying lesson was scheduled for this morning. Some of my classmates had flown before, but I was so scared I'd do something stupid! That's why I returned it immediately to the library as soon as I was finished with it, there might be other students in the same situation. Just in case, I told my classmates all the flying tips I had read, since our flying instructor might take points from any of us if we fell off the brooms. We have to work as a team if we want to win the House Cup at the end of next June.

          But the first thing we had to do in the flying class was something that wasn't in the book at all! We had to raise our right hands over the broomsticks that were lying on the lawn and say, "Up!" and the broomsticks should come to our hands. Oh, it was so frustrating! Mine kept rolling on the ground, but only after I summoned it by the eleventh time it flew to my hand. It was awful, most of the others got it after a few calls, and a few even got it in their first attempt!

          Then Madam Hooch—that's our instructor—taught us how to mount properly, and how to hold the handle. It was so odd to feel the effect of the Cushioning Charm—it's an in-built spell that forms an invisible, comfortable saddle on the broomstick, so it doesn't hurt to ride it at all. I can't imagine how the medieval wizards could stand flying on brooms before that charm was developed, and that was only in 1820!

          When we were all ready to try our first flight, a horrible accident happened. Neville, who had been cleared from the Hospital on Sunday, lost control of his broom, which skyrocketed all of a sudden. He was about twenty feet high when he fell to the ground, and broke his wrist. Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing and told us not to try to fly before she came back or we'd be expelled! But Malfoy—the Slytherins have that class with us too—and Potter started a silly fight over something Neville dropped, and Parvati started arguing with some Slytherin girl to defend Neville. Then Malfoy grabbed his broom and took off! And you know what Potter did? He took off after him! Madam Hooch would surely be back at any second and the two of them were chasing each other in the air! And to make things worse, Potter made this crazy, suicidal manoeuvre to recover the object Malfoy had taken, just to get the applause of the other students. (Well, he certainly didn't get mine!)

          He was caught after all. Professor McGonagall saw him through a window, I suspect. She came and called him away, and everyone was saying he'd be expelled, but apparently he wasn't, and apparently he wasn't even given detention. I saw him at dinner talking in whispers with Percy's younger brothers, and they were all very cheerful, as if being caught disobeying Madam Hooch's orders had been the best thing that could have ever happened. Parvati says it's because he's Harry Potter, so the teachers are likely to be more lenient with him. At least we didn't lose any more points.

          Or should I say, we didn't lose any more points yet. Still at dinner I saw Potter arguing with Malfoy again, and now they're planning to have a wizard's duel in the trophy room at Midnight, way after our curfew. I tried to talk him out of it, I told him it was really selfish of him to risk losing the points his classmates have won, but he was really rude to me, and his friend—I can't believe he's Percy's brother!—was even ruder. But I'm not going to let it happen. As soon as I send the owl with this letter on its way, I'm going to the Gryffindor common room and wait for Potter. He has to listen to reason! I won five points at Transfiguration this week—I got all the answers about Switching Spells right—, and I'm not letting him waste my efforts.

          Speaking of which, I have to go now, or I won't be able to come back before the curfew. Wish me luck!

          Love,

-----------------------------------
written by Morgan D.
September 18th, 2003

Hermione Granger and all the characters of the Harry Potter novel series belong to J.K. Rowling and her associates, such as Bloomsbury, Scholastic Books, Warner Bros, and Merlin-knows-who-else.
Mrs Isabel Granger is a character named and developed by Teka Lynn especially for the Hogwarts Letters project.
Terencius Gaunt, Clio Dimicatio, Catilina Eschenbach and the titles of their books are a creation of Morgan D., who also suggested the name Medeori Ulcus to the potion to heal boils (from the first HP novel).
This fanwork was created solely for entertainment and doesn't provide its author any kind of financial profit.