Letter 14: Dr Jane Porter to her daughter, Hermione Granger, 13th January 1998

A/N: For simplicity’s sake, titles of books, journals etc are underlined and emphases are italicised. In reviving the old tradition of epistolary novels, I understand the plot may be a little slow, laborious and difficult to follow. Some might consider it AU and a little OOC.

In order not to weary the reader’s patience, a number of letters from the series of correspondences have been suppressed; only those which are necessary to a complete understanding of the events in this group are reproduced. For the same reason, some letters from the actors in the events of this drama have also been suppressed.

Proestigium or What the Seasons may Bring

Letter 14: Dr Jane Porter to her daughter, Hermione Granger, 13th January 1998

Drs Reginald Granger & Jane Porter,

21 Fullers Road,

South Woodford,

London, E18 2QB,

United Kingdom.

13th January 1998

My Pet,

Your father sends his love and a kiss. He has since recovered from the flu and is now nursing a backache as he had overstrained himself while doing Tai-chi. If Grandmamma Porter can do it smoothly and effortlessly, so can he. But you know your father’s vigorous crazed gambolling. He must have taken up Tai-chi lessons with your Grandmamma so that he can butter up to his mother-in-law. Your Grandmamma thinks it is worth the effort to see your father incapacitated for once.

How were your term papers so far, Love? Were they manageable? I know you can cope with your workload, but I still worry. So all these strange occurrences are due to this Voldemort? What madness is this world coming to?

Hermione, Hermione, how many times must I tell you that it is poor taste to make your snide remarks about Miss Havisham. She is a patient, a disgruntled one, but a patient nonetheless. It is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn’t a dentist. It creates a false impression. You, of all people, should be aware of that, since you always leave your teeth marks behind in everything. Jokes aside, I am glad you asked. She is a bit of a heartless guttersnipe. She claims she wishes to sue your father and I out of our practice. Utter rubbish, I say. Our lawyer, Mr King from North Square Park, informs us that we have a strong case. My personal sentiments incline towards an across-the-table negotiation. It would be too messy if we drag the matter to the courts. All this litigation does not sit well with our practice. Mrs Woolf’s daughter refuses to visit us anymore. Fortunately, Mrs Woolf has decided to stick with us for the crowning.

Mrs Weasley and Professor Lupin have both written to us as to the proposed removal of you and the boys to the Black residence. As long as it does not interfere with your lessons and school work, I have no objections. My darling daughter’s safety is all that I desire at the moment. I will write to your Headmaster as well to see if your father and I can take the three of you out for lunch when you are removed there. We can always meet you at Oxford Street; and you can ask that nice Professor Lupin to escort you youngsters. You must invite the boys to stay with us for a while when the horrid war with Voldemort is over. Ask the boys and see whether they are amenable to the idea. It will give them something to look forward to.

Do you think the post offices at your end will check the letters? I know there is no way for us to send you anything by owl. Although it is convenient that the post recognises the letters and packages for the magical quarter (as I call it) and leaves it at the various magical post offices before owling it to you lot, I worry that this war will lead to unnecessary suspicion on incoming and outgoing post. You wrote in one of your letters that everyone sending post from the school must ask a member of the teaching staff to cast a protective charm about the owls so that this Lord Voldemort has no chance of harming the owls or intercepting your letters. It is most distressing to think that any one would want to read one’s private correspondences.

I have been meaning to speak to you about Dr Jigger, my dear. I am sure he must be very agreeable and very sensible. But do you think it wise to continue bothering him? I know he has not overtly demanded that you cease writing, as you have made no mention of it. He could be too polite to tell you that he feels you’re a little irksome. You say that he seems to adopt a patronising tone in his replies; perhaps, he is circuitously asking you to sod off. I resort to that method sometimes. This is not a slight on you, love. You must know how temperamental these bright academic sorts are. Still, don’t take what I told you to heart. Your father and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Lots of love,

Mummy

Footnotes

Proestigium is Latin for illusion. Ironically, the English word Prestige derives from it.

I recall some readers commenting as to the nature of “owling”. The contents of these letters may shed some light on the matter. Given the protective spell on the owl, it ought to be a more or less secure form of communication.

Those curious as to initials in Severus’s name would have to wait till letter 34. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. Miss K. Lupin's theory on one of the initials holds water, so 5 points to her.