Hogwarts, and 90 Days of Writing
Nov. 29th, 2007 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthToday is the 90th day of the fourth round of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
novel_in_90. After missing the last couple of weeks of round 3 cause of Gencon and the move, I started up on September 1st. The word goal? 750 words a day, 90 days, 67,500 words total. My goals were: to finish the novel I started in round 3; to finish the Hogwarts story; to finish my Changeling diaries; and to write the Sirius Black short story.
Well, I haven't accomplished most of those goals, but not because I haven't been writing. It's because the first two - and particularly the novel! - ended up taking a lot more writing than I expected to be completed.
So what HAVE I accomplished?
On September 1st, my novel was 64,726 (I missed the Round goal by less than 3k in Round 3, even though I missed about half of the month of August...I remember I was very happy, cause if I counted my notes as well as the story, I hit the goal by like 5 words. ;) )
On November 1st, I finished the novel, which had a a total of 142,387 words. So between 9/1 and 11/1, I wrote 77,661 words. So I definitely hit the word goal for Round 4!
On November 2nd, I resumed work on the Hogwarts story. It had 31,068 words at that time, and now has 75,161 words. Between 11/2 and today, I've written 44,093.
In the last two weeks, I've also written a 12k word grant, though I don't really count that, and I've modified the goal of "Finish the Changeling story" into "write a self-indulgent, silly version of Changeling ALA what I've done with Hogwarts," and written 15,995 words on that since I started it on...whatever day that was, a few days ago.
I've beaten the pants off of the NaNoWriMo goal, even though I'm not participating in NaNo. Damn you NaNo, I've written almost 75k this month (counting all fiction projects I've worked on in November).
I started to do the research for the Sirius Black story - I need to find out WHAT tattoos he has in the movies, WHERE they are, and WHAT they mean; I watched Azkaban and drew out all the visible tattoos on a pad, and I looked up what people on the net have to say about what they mean; I found some info and it gave me some ideas for what the story will actually be about. ;)
All in all, I didn't write a single word on 7 out of 90 days. 6 of these were while I was away; 4 of those were in a row when I was in Singapore and couldn't use my computer cause the battery was dead. The lowest I wrote on a day when I wrote anything was 439, the day before those 4-in-a-row; the most I wrote in one day was 13,463, the day I finished the novel. I averaged 1531 words a day.
So. I...
...finished my first novel.
...made a lot of progress on a work in progress.
...modified a goal and started that project.
...researched the last goal.
...wrote a total of 137,749 words on three different fiction projects (ha! I barely doubled the word count goal for the 90 days).
...built my confidence in my writing ability, or at least my writing capacity.
...behaved self-indulgently, but convinced myself it's okay because it's good writing practice.
...have incorporated writing in to my daily routine to the extent that I can't imagine not doing it on most days.
...shocked myself with the discovery that I can write a ton without burning myself out.
...think I've earned a break, yet have no inclination to take one.
The new round fornovel_in_90, Round 5, will begin on January 1st. December is such a busy time, we all decided it'd be better to wait. So those of you who might like the support of an awesome group of fellow writers for meeting those daily goals should come join us then! And of course, a group of us won't stop during December, either, though I'll be traveling enough that it might get complicated for me. Oh! Speaking of which!
This got officially finalized yesterday.
T-11 days.
Dec. 10: My flight leaves Japan at about 5 in the afternoon and arrives in Indy at 7:15 PM. I'll arrive in Bloomington probably around 9. I don't intend to sleep from the morning of the 10th in Japan until I arrive (which will be approx. 24 hours time for me) so I can't promise to be good company. :)
Dec. 15: My brother comes to Bloomington; I attend the Knightridge party.
Dec. 16: I leave with my bro in the morning and drive to...some where. I'm not sure where we're stopping for the night.
Dec. 17: Arrive in New Hampshire to help out with my grandfather.
Dec. 20: Leave NH and go to NYC.
Dec. 21: Turn 25. Hopefully do something fun to celebrate this.
Dec. 22: Visit my dad in Jersey, then return to NYC.
Dec. 25: X-mas
Dec. 26 - ???: Apartment hunting joy and delight.
So I have 5 days in Bloomington, over finals week, and I'm looking forward to seeing folks. ;)
Onward!
Once the train was clean, the last few delayed cantrips that might have caused low-level havoc dispelled, I made my way home. It was a long walk from the station, but I hadn’t any muggle money to hire a carriage, and in those days there were few alternative modes of transportation. If not for all the muggles, of course, I could have flown, but that was not an option. I had known this would be the case, though, and so carried only one small bag which contained the items from Hogsmeade and a few odds and ends that I could not do without, some potion ingredients and toiletries. I had potion equipment and clothing aplenty at home which I could use, so I was not concerned.
My parents greeted me with restrained goodwill, and we spoke of nothing for a good while. I sensed there was something awkward in the air, though I had no idea what, and as I did not have the sort of family where one asked such things, I instead simply enjoyed being home. When I’m away, it’s easy to forget how nice home can truly be. Until my parents remembered all the ways in which I was a disappointment, they were always delighted – in their own quiet, proper way – that I was back, and such was the case now despite the unease that suffused my welcome. So we talked of things, and mother told me of society, and father spoke of work with dark mutters thrown in about politics – but politics was not something to speak to a daughter about, of course! – and in this fashion we passed a pleasant dinner.
After the meal, we adjourned to the sitting room, and I noticed something odd on the table by my father’s chair. It was a letter on thick parchment, and it sat atop a black envelope – a very odd thing indeed! – on which the Black family seal stood out in sharp silver.
“What’s that?” I asked, curious, “Is everything alright?”
Both of my parents glanced at the letter, and I knew at once that it was the source of the tension that I had been feeling. I felt a stab of concern that I could not dispel. This surely had something to do with Marcus, I thought. Perhaps the Relious family and they’re happy-go-lucky tendencies had earned the wrath of the Black family? If that were the case, though Relious was a pure blood family, my parents would strictly forbid me having any more contact with him. It would pain me a great deal to have to go against them.
“Ah,” said my father into the silence, “that.” He settled heavily in his sitting chair, and mother followed suit in her own chair, if more delicately. He gestured for me to take a seat, and I do so, nervously, not even attempting to get comfortable. My stomach was tied up in knots. This could become an argument very quickly if the letter was what I feared. “You haven’t been honest with us, Delia,” he proceeded sternly. I wanted to protest that I had been perfectly honest, for I had been, more or less, but I held my tongue. “You informed us that this boy was a member of the Relious family, obviously by his father’s blood, but you neglected to inform us of who his mother was.” I wracked my brain. Had I not said that his mother was a Black? I couldn’t recall for certain but I thought perhaps he was right. In truth, it hadn’t occurred to me. We wizards of pureblood families are taught family trees with our mother’s milk, and I assumed surely my parents would know the Black tree as well as our own, well enough to know where one of the Black daughters had married. “This rather changes things, puts them in a new light.”
“Your father and I have talked to over,” my mother continued. “You understand, this is very serious?” She waited for me to answer. I still wasn’t even sure what the matter was, though I was beginning to think my assumption that it was bad might have been incorrect, so I nodded, barely. I supposed that either way it was serious, I just wished I knew what “this” was. “Good. You’ve always been a very perceptive, astute girl.” It felt odd to hear the compliment. I wished they’d get on with it.
“We feel that it would be best if you spent the holiday with the Relious – with the Blacks,” my father added with emphasis.
I gasped loudly. My mother sniffed at my lack of breeding, but I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “Really?” I asked. “I can spend the holiday with Marcus – at Whitebrook?” I hastily corrected.
“Of course, you silly girl!” my mother snapped. “If you had told us from the first that he was a Black, not this silly Relious nonsense, I’d never have stopped you. You did very wrong not to say so! As it is, we expect you to rectify this mistake and make sure that they perceived no slight in our initial refusal. We’re in no position to offend a family like the Blacks.” Her lecture done, though, she broke in to what – for her – was a warm smile. “My daughter, with a Black interested in her! When I heard the boy was a Hufflepuff,” she sniffed, not finishing the sentence, “but a Black, and Head Boy! Oh, you’ve done quite well. I had hoped…but that is no matter.”
“I wouldn’t be a Black,” I said, slowly. I didn’t want to cause her approval to slip, but she – and father, too – would be more angry later if they realized the truth then if I didn’t say anything at all.
“Nonsense,” my mother dismissed my concerns, “that’s an easy enough matter to deal with. The Black’s will surely understand that we could never allow the name of Prince to be associated with the name of Relious, and we’ll simply discuss the possibility of this boy taking his mother’s last name. They know what an advantageous match this is on both sides, they’ll surely agree.”
My head swam. They approved! Of course, this talk of switching the names sounded like a disaster in the making – the Black’s, I imagined, couldn’t possibly disapprove of the Relious’ like we did and still allow a Black daughter to marry in to the family without disowning her – but now was not the moment to argue such things. “It’s a little early to be talking about taking names and such,” I said in a hurry, realizing my cheeks were pink. My mother, perhaps catching something in my tone, looked at me intently.
“Indeed, indeed,” my father said, noticing nothing. “Your mother is just excited. Alasdair, you understand, has shown no inclination for marriage. Of course, with a daughter it’s different – we’ve been keeping an eye out, as they say, for a suitable wizard for some time, and we’d been approached on more than one occasion. We’d intended to settle something up this summer, in fact – the Serence’s made a fine offer – and that would be that. But you’ve gone and beaten us to the punch. A fine match,” he picked up his pipe and puffed it thoughtfully.
The thought of my marrying Caius Serence, who was universally cold, arrogant and, I suspected, cruel, helped me to truly appreciate the trap that I had dodged when I first set my own plans in action. It was a relief that I appeared to be succeeding, it was wonderful that I no longer really thought of my actions as ‘plans’ at all, and best of all was the approval that was now evident. “And you’d have saved us a great deal of embarrassment…” my mother added threateningly.
I wanted to argue back, but it didn’t really matter. They didn’t disapprove now that they knew the quality of his blood, and they had given me their permission to go, which was all I’d really wanted from the start. Thus, I assumed an appropriately contrite expression. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, “may I go write a letter to Marcus to let him know about this? His family may no longer be able to accommodate another guest.”
“Go,” my mother snapped, giving me a look that made it clear that she didn’t have any feeling whatsoever that she or father would be to blame if my prediction came true. Still, my heart was a glow, and I hurried for a quill and parchment.
“Dear Marcus,” I wrote hurriedly, “My parents have informed me that I will, in fact, be permitted to spend the upcoming holiday in your company. I must say, I am rather bemused by this turn of events. My parents apparently had failed to realize that you are of the Black family as well as of the Relious family, but they are now better informed. Noting the letter that they appear to have received from the Black’s, I reflect with confidence that your hand is in this.
“Thank you. I am very happy that I will be able to visit and that, for once, we will be able to spend some time together without so many other concerns distracting us, weighing us down, preoccupying us.
“I unfortunately am at a loss for what else to say, save that I will see you shortly.”
Marcus’ surprise that things hadn’t changed, every time he asked if I’d heard from my parents again, told me all that I needed to know. He had done something to bring about this change of heart, I knew, and I couldn’t help but reflect, as I attached my letter to the Prince family owl, a noble and refined member of its species, that I was the luckiest girl in the world. I had a man I cared for very much (I should note that, though I have written once or twice that it was love, at the time I was still young enough that I often didn’t think of it in those terms myself), and who cared for me, he was a good match, brave, trustworthy, handsome, intelligent, from a wealthy family, and my parents approved. I could have hoped for nothing more, and had expected far less.
I received a letter with surprising speed – perhaps not surprising, I reflected, considering that his family were staying in the city – to the following affect. “Dear Delia,” it began, “I am ever so delighted that your parents had a change of heart. As we are in London until the 26th, it would be a simple matter for us to meet. My parents were intending to take a shopping trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow; perhaps your family could meet us there? My parents, in case you were worried, are delighted that you will be joining us, and have assured me that they will do everything they can make sure you know you are welcome.
“As to any part I might have played in this decision, well, I cannot think of much I might have done. The only thing I have done recently is send a letter – as I do every year – to my grandfather, telling him how the fall semester at Hogwarts went. I did mention you, and that your parents perhaps had some reservations about me. Now that I think more on the subject, I did mention in a bit of detail the virtues of Candice, the American muggle-born girl who is the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. Perhaps he read too deeply in to this and grew aghast at the notion of Black blood ending up couple with that of a muggle-born. I suppose if I was not so busy with finals I might have mentioned that Candice is dating a Gryffindor third year. Oh well, people really should be less concerned about breeding, you know.” He signed his name, and below that he had added a post script. “P.S.,” it said, in a hand that seemed to communicate its whimsical nature, “Do you think me wicked?”
I laughed.
novel_in_90. After missing the last couple of weeks of round 3 cause of Gencon and the move, I started up on September 1st. The word goal? 750 words a day, 90 days, 67,500 words total. My goals were: to finish the novel I started in round 3; to finish the Hogwarts story; to finish my Changeling diaries; and to write the Sirius Black short story.Well, I haven't accomplished most of those goals, but not because I haven't been writing. It's because the first two - and particularly the novel! - ended up taking a lot more writing than I expected to be completed.
So what HAVE I accomplished?
On September 1st, my novel was 64,726 (I missed the Round goal by less than 3k in Round 3, even though I missed about half of the month of August...I remember I was very happy, cause if I counted my notes as well as the story, I hit the goal by like 5 words. ;) )
On November 1st, I finished the novel, which had a a total of 142,387 words. So between 9/1 and 11/1, I wrote 77,661 words. So I definitely hit the word goal for Round 4!
On November 2nd, I resumed work on the Hogwarts story. It had 31,068 words at that time, and now has 75,161 words. Between 11/2 and today, I've written 44,093.
In the last two weeks, I've also written a 12k word grant, though I don't really count that, and I've modified the goal of "Finish the Changeling story" into "write a self-indulgent, silly version of Changeling ALA what I've done with Hogwarts," and written 15,995 words on that since I started it on...whatever day that was, a few days ago.
I've beaten the pants off of the NaNoWriMo goal, even though I'm not participating in NaNo. Damn you NaNo, I've written almost 75k this month (counting all fiction projects I've worked on in November).
I started to do the research for the Sirius Black story - I need to find out WHAT tattoos he has in the movies, WHERE they are, and WHAT they mean; I watched Azkaban and drew out all the visible tattoos on a pad, and I looked up what people on the net have to say about what they mean; I found some info and it gave me some ideas for what the story will actually be about. ;)
All in all, I didn't write a single word on 7 out of 90 days. 6 of these were while I was away; 4 of those were in a row when I was in Singapore and couldn't use my computer cause the battery was dead. The lowest I wrote on a day when I wrote anything was 439, the day before those 4-in-a-row; the most I wrote in one day was 13,463, the day I finished the novel. I averaged 1531 words a day.
So. I...
...finished my first novel.
...made a lot of progress on a work in progress.
...modified a goal and started that project.
...researched the last goal.
...wrote a total of 137,749 words on three different fiction projects (ha! I barely doubled the word count goal for the 90 days).
...built my confidence in my writing ability, or at least my writing capacity.
...behaved self-indulgently, but convinced myself it's okay because it's good writing practice.
...have incorporated writing in to my daily routine to the extent that I can't imagine not doing it on most days.
...shocked myself with the discovery that I can write a ton without burning myself out.
...think I've earned a break, yet have no inclination to take one.
The new round for
novel_in_90, Round 5, will begin on January 1st. December is such a busy time, we all decided it'd be better to wait. So those of you who might like the support of an awesome group of fellow writers for meeting those daily goals should come join us then! And of course, a group of us won't stop during December, either, though I'll be traveling enough that it might get complicated for me. Oh! Speaking of which!This got officially finalized yesterday.
T-11 days.
Dec. 10: My flight leaves Japan at about 5 in the afternoon and arrives in Indy at 7:15 PM. I'll arrive in Bloomington probably around 9. I don't intend to sleep from the morning of the 10th in Japan until I arrive (which will be approx. 24 hours time for me) so I can't promise to be good company. :)
Dec. 15: My brother comes to Bloomington; I attend the Knightridge party.
Dec. 16: I leave with my bro in the morning and drive to...some where. I'm not sure where we're stopping for the night.
Dec. 17: Arrive in New Hampshire to help out with my grandfather.
Dec. 20: Leave NH and go to NYC.
Dec. 21: Turn 25. Hopefully do something fun to celebrate this.
Dec. 22: Visit my dad in Jersey, then return to NYC.
Dec. 25: X-mas
Dec. 26 - ???: Apartment hunting joy and delight.
So I have 5 days in Bloomington, over finals week, and I'm looking forward to seeing folks. ;)
Onward!
Once the train was clean, the last few delayed cantrips that might have caused low-level havoc dispelled, I made my way home. It was a long walk from the station, but I hadn’t any muggle money to hire a carriage, and in those days there were few alternative modes of transportation. If not for all the muggles, of course, I could have flown, but that was not an option. I had known this would be the case, though, and so carried only one small bag which contained the items from Hogsmeade and a few odds and ends that I could not do without, some potion ingredients and toiletries. I had potion equipment and clothing aplenty at home which I could use, so I was not concerned.
My parents greeted me with restrained goodwill, and we spoke of nothing for a good while. I sensed there was something awkward in the air, though I had no idea what, and as I did not have the sort of family where one asked such things, I instead simply enjoyed being home. When I’m away, it’s easy to forget how nice home can truly be. Until my parents remembered all the ways in which I was a disappointment, they were always delighted – in their own quiet, proper way – that I was back, and such was the case now despite the unease that suffused my welcome. So we talked of things, and mother told me of society, and father spoke of work with dark mutters thrown in about politics – but politics was not something to speak to a daughter about, of course! – and in this fashion we passed a pleasant dinner.
After the meal, we adjourned to the sitting room, and I noticed something odd on the table by my father’s chair. It was a letter on thick parchment, and it sat atop a black envelope – a very odd thing indeed! – on which the Black family seal stood out in sharp silver.
“What’s that?” I asked, curious, “Is everything alright?”
Both of my parents glanced at the letter, and I knew at once that it was the source of the tension that I had been feeling. I felt a stab of concern that I could not dispel. This surely had something to do with Marcus, I thought. Perhaps the Relious family and they’re happy-go-lucky tendencies had earned the wrath of the Black family? If that were the case, though Relious was a pure blood family, my parents would strictly forbid me having any more contact with him. It would pain me a great deal to have to go against them.
“Ah,” said my father into the silence, “that.” He settled heavily in his sitting chair, and mother followed suit in her own chair, if more delicately. He gestured for me to take a seat, and I do so, nervously, not even attempting to get comfortable. My stomach was tied up in knots. This could become an argument very quickly if the letter was what I feared. “You haven’t been honest with us, Delia,” he proceeded sternly. I wanted to protest that I had been perfectly honest, for I had been, more or less, but I held my tongue. “You informed us that this boy was a member of the Relious family, obviously by his father’s blood, but you neglected to inform us of who his mother was.” I wracked my brain. Had I not said that his mother was a Black? I couldn’t recall for certain but I thought perhaps he was right. In truth, it hadn’t occurred to me. We wizards of pureblood families are taught family trees with our mother’s milk, and I assumed surely my parents would know the Black tree as well as our own, well enough to know where one of the Black daughters had married. “This rather changes things, puts them in a new light.”
“Your father and I have talked to over,” my mother continued. “You understand, this is very serious?” She waited for me to answer. I still wasn’t even sure what the matter was, though I was beginning to think my assumption that it was bad might have been incorrect, so I nodded, barely. I supposed that either way it was serious, I just wished I knew what “this” was. “Good. You’ve always been a very perceptive, astute girl.” It felt odd to hear the compliment. I wished they’d get on with it.
“We feel that it would be best if you spent the holiday with the Relious – with the Blacks,” my father added with emphasis.
I gasped loudly. My mother sniffed at my lack of breeding, but I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “Really?” I asked. “I can spend the holiday with Marcus – at Whitebrook?” I hastily corrected.
“Of course, you silly girl!” my mother snapped. “If you had told us from the first that he was a Black, not this silly Relious nonsense, I’d never have stopped you. You did very wrong not to say so! As it is, we expect you to rectify this mistake and make sure that they perceived no slight in our initial refusal. We’re in no position to offend a family like the Blacks.” Her lecture done, though, she broke in to what – for her – was a warm smile. “My daughter, with a Black interested in her! When I heard the boy was a Hufflepuff,” she sniffed, not finishing the sentence, “but a Black, and Head Boy! Oh, you’ve done quite well. I had hoped…but that is no matter.”
“I wouldn’t be a Black,” I said, slowly. I didn’t want to cause her approval to slip, but she – and father, too – would be more angry later if they realized the truth then if I didn’t say anything at all.
“Nonsense,” my mother dismissed my concerns, “that’s an easy enough matter to deal with. The Black’s will surely understand that we could never allow the name of Prince to be associated with the name of Relious, and we’ll simply discuss the possibility of this boy taking his mother’s last name. They know what an advantageous match this is on both sides, they’ll surely agree.”
My head swam. They approved! Of course, this talk of switching the names sounded like a disaster in the making – the Black’s, I imagined, couldn’t possibly disapprove of the Relious’ like we did and still allow a Black daughter to marry in to the family without disowning her – but now was not the moment to argue such things. “It’s a little early to be talking about taking names and such,” I said in a hurry, realizing my cheeks were pink. My mother, perhaps catching something in my tone, looked at me intently.
“Indeed, indeed,” my father said, noticing nothing. “Your mother is just excited. Alasdair, you understand, has shown no inclination for marriage. Of course, with a daughter it’s different – we’ve been keeping an eye out, as they say, for a suitable wizard for some time, and we’d been approached on more than one occasion. We’d intended to settle something up this summer, in fact – the Serence’s made a fine offer – and that would be that. But you’ve gone and beaten us to the punch. A fine match,” he picked up his pipe and puffed it thoughtfully.
The thought of my marrying Caius Serence, who was universally cold, arrogant and, I suspected, cruel, helped me to truly appreciate the trap that I had dodged when I first set my own plans in action. It was a relief that I appeared to be succeeding, it was wonderful that I no longer really thought of my actions as ‘plans’ at all, and best of all was the approval that was now evident. “And you’d have saved us a great deal of embarrassment…” my mother added threateningly.
I wanted to argue back, but it didn’t really matter. They didn’t disapprove now that they knew the quality of his blood, and they had given me their permission to go, which was all I’d really wanted from the start. Thus, I assumed an appropriately contrite expression. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, “may I go write a letter to Marcus to let him know about this? His family may no longer be able to accommodate another guest.”
“Go,” my mother snapped, giving me a look that made it clear that she didn’t have any feeling whatsoever that she or father would be to blame if my prediction came true. Still, my heart was a glow, and I hurried for a quill and parchment.
“Dear Marcus,” I wrote hurriedly, “My parents have informed me that I will, in fact, be permitted to spend the upcoming holiday in your company. I must say, I am rather bemused by this turn of events. My parents apparently had failed to realize that you are of the Black family as well as of the Relious family, but they are now better informed. Noting the letter that they appear to have received from the Black’s, I reflect with confidence that your hand is in this.
“Thank you. I am very happy that I will be able to visit and that, for once, we will be able to spend some time together without so many other concerns distracting us, weighing us down, preoccupying us.
“I unfortunately am at a loss for what else to say, save that I will see you shortly.”
Marcus’ surprise that things hadn’t changed, every time he asked if I’d heard from my parents again, told me all that I needed to know. He had done something to bring about this change of heart, I knew, and I couldn’t help but reflect, as I attached my letter to the Prince family owl, a noble and refined member of its species, that I was the luckiest girl in the world. I had a man I cared for very much (I should note that, though I have written once or twice that it was love, at the time I was still young enough that I often didn’t think of it in those terms myself), and who cared for me, he was a good match, brave, trustworthy, handsome, intelligent, from a wealthy family, and my parents approved. I could have hoped for nothing more, and had expected far less.
I received a letter with surprising speed – perhaps not surprising, I reflected, considering that his family were staying in the city – to the following affect. “Dear Delia,” it began, “I am ever so delighted that your parents had a change of heart. As we are in London until the 26th, it would be a simple matter for us to meet. My parents were intending to take a shopping trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow; perhaps your family could meet us there? My parents, in case you were worried, are delighted that you will be joining us, and have assured me that they will do everything they can make sure you know you are welcome.
“As to any part I might have played in this decision, well, I cannot think of much I might have done. The only thing I have done recently is send a letter – as I do every year – to my grandfather, telling him how the fall semester at Hogwarts went. I did mention you, and that your parents perhaps had some reservations about me. Now that I think more on the subject, I did mention in a bit of detail the virtues of Candice, the American muggle-born girl who is the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. Perhaps he read too deeply in to this and grew aghast at the notion of Black blood ending up couple with that of a muggle-born. I suppose if I was not so busy with finals I might have mentioned that Candice is dating a Gryffindor third year. Oh well, people really should be less concerned about breeding, you know.” He signed his name, and below that he had added a post script. “P.S.,” it said, in a hand that seemed to communicate its whimsical nature, “Do you think me wicked?”
I laughed.
