Hogwarts Castle
October 1st, 1991
Oi Mãe!
It's already been a whole month since I came here. That's the longest we've ever been apart, and it feels… strange. I keep catching myself thinking I'll walk into the kitchen to tell you something, or hear you shouting at me for leaving my books on the table again. You were right, though (you usually are). You told me not to write until the first month was over, and I almost didn't make it. I drafted twenty letters before this one, you know.
And honestly, I'm still not sure how to put everything into words. I keep starting a sentence and then forgetting stopping scratching it out like this. My poor reserves of parchment.
So - straight from the beginning then. The castle is marvelous. It feels alive in every corner. The suits of armor move when I pass and they talk to each other when they think no one's hearing. The paintings seem to have their own world, travelling from frame to frame and having friends, enemies and so much gossip. Even the air hums with magic, like it's breathing. It's… a lot more than I expected.
It's also incredibly frustrating.
It's been a whole month, and I still haven't figured out the pattern of the moving staircases. The older students swear there is one, but whenever I ask, none of them can explain it. Sometimes I find a new shortcut - only for it to vanish the next day, or lead me somewhere entirely different. It's like living inside a puzzle, and I can't decide if it's brilliant or cruel. Probably both.
I won't write about classes here. I copied all my notes, and they're in the packet I'm sending with this. That should give you a better picture than I could in a letter. What I can say though is that it seems weird that Magic Theory isn't really taught here. Professor Flitwick said that he'll start working with it in the sixth year - but isn't that after the OWLs?
Seems bizarre to me that you only learn how the things you do work after you're already considered proficient enough in it that you don't need to learn anymore if you don't want to.
Bleh, weird cultural differences, I guess.
About friends… well. I don't have quite as many as you probably hoped. The people in my house are pleasant enough, but they're quiet - like me - so whole evenings can pass without more than a word or two. They do make good study mates, though, there seems to be some kind of competition of who can help each other more, it's funny.
I did get close with Neville Longbottom. He had lost his pet, a frog, on the train - who even keeps a frog as a pet? - and I helped him look for it.
Well, not really helped, we didn't find it, but I walked after him while he looked for it. Neville's clumsy, but he's nice, he also really likes Herbology, apparently. You think you can get a sapling from one of the plants from back home for me to give him on Christmas? I think he'd appreciate it.
On the train I met another friend, a girl, but… well, she doesn't talk to me anymore. She got sorted into Gryffindor and, for a while, she glared every time I answered questions in class before her. (She scrunches her face up like a chipmunk - it was so funny that I kept doing it just to see her reaction, which might have been a mistake.) Now she won't even look at me. So maybe I've ruined that.
The ghosts here are fascinating. The Ravenclaw ghost - the Grey Lady - is smarter than the professors, I think. It's odd to think she was already old before Brazil was even colonized. Must have seen a lot of shit.
Speaking of Brazil, I've been missing your cooking terribly. Could you send some recipes? Maybe I can persuade the castle's Domestic Elves to try them for me. First, of course, I'll have to find the kitchens. I've been told to ask the Hufflepuffs about it, but they have taken great pleasure in teasing me about the location without actually saying where it is. I think I'll have to actually stalk one of them one of those days. Think you can send me an Invisibility Potion?
And speaking of food! Mãe, tell me the truth, is this school secretly run by hags? Are they planning to fatten us up before they eat us? There's far too much of it every night - I never thought I'd say that - and much of it is the sort of thing I'd only expect to eat once a week. But here's the strange part: no one's gaining weight. If anything, I'm a bit thinner than when I arrived, which should make you happy, you've been nagging me about my weight a lot. At first, I thought it was just all the walking (and climbing, and running to beat the staircases before they move). But it feels like there's something more to it.
Well, that's enough for now. My hand is cramped from copying notes, and I can't think of what else to say. If you want to know something particular, write and ask, and I'll answer next time.
I love you, Mãe. Despite how much fun I'm having, I can't help but hope Christmas comes sooner, so I can be home again.
Com amor,
Gabriel.
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October 2nd, 1991
Oi, meu amor!
I expected this much dependency from you, meu anjo. That's half the reason I chose to send you to a boarding school instead of teaching you myself. You need to learn how to breathe without me, even if the lessons there are a little subpar. Don't pout - I can always supplement your education during the breaks.
I read through your notes, and things seem to be going well as they could be. This newfound passion for Charms is very cute, considering how often you used to roll your eyes at "mainstream" magic. Your younger self would be horrified. I'm proud you're trying new things.
I completely agree with your Transfiguration professor's high standards. Transfiguration is serious business. It's all fun and games now with matchsticks and buttons, but when you move on to living beings? A mistake there is cruelty worse than the darkest curse. To help, I'm sending you an empty journal - let's call it your "Diário de Formas". Once a day, I want you to pick an object and write everything you can about it - the weight, taste, texture, the sound it makes when dropped, the shape of the shadow it casts, everything you can find out about it. At the end of the day come back to the journal and read everything you wrote, try to picture the object as clear as you can in your mind - that's the best way I've found to improve in Transfiguration without the use of Mind Magic.
Your Potions professor does sound like a bore, but it's interesting what he's been doing with the recipes. Keep sending them to me. And here's a little challenge for you: try one of mine in his class. Tell me how he reacts.
As for Astronomy - Pay more attention to what you're writing, there are more rambling comments about your professor's moons than the ones in the sky. It's good to know that you're at this stage of development already, but don't let it stop you from actually studying the subject. You're better than that.
Now, about Hogwarts itself. You're right to feel the castle is alive. It's one of the oldest magical buildings still standing, and with so many witches and wizards casting spells there through the centuries, it would be impossible for it 'not' to have developed a consciousness. All magical schools are alive in their own way. They shape the students, push them forward, keep them healthy. Hogwarts is simply more alive than most. So the tricks, the shortcuts, the "puzzles" - that's the castle's way of playing. I would love to study it more in depth, but my current work with the Department of Mysteries is tied elsewhere, not to the Mystery of the Mind.
Meu anjo, stop being an antisocial little turtle. At least leave your dorm and try to talk to people. It's not that hard, and you've proven you can do it when you want to. You're just procrastinating. Still, I'm glad you've made a friend. Invite Neville to visit when the holidays come. I'll prepare a sapling for him - do you think he'd prefer something easier to care for, or something more… Stimulating?
Ah, you've been bullying the poor girl. Are you still at the point where you pull on the hair of girls you find cute to get their attention? How amusingly immature of you. Or perhaps this is your father's nature shining through? Honestly, you've barely ever shown any signs of your inhuman heritage, I thought it had been mostly suppressed. Then again, it could have come from me, I certainly took quite a while to grow out of my "mean girl" phase. Do make sure to make up with her, will you? At least say you're sorry.
I've sent a packet back to you. It's got an extension charm - temporary, so don't push it. Inside there's a marmita with all your favorites. Along with it you'll find a list of the recipes. They're close to mine but not exactly the same. Can't have those Domestic Elves outdoing me. There's also three doses of the potion you asked for inside, do remember that those have an expiration date - around three weeks and they'll start failing.
If you need more you better learn to brew it for yourself, I'll send the ingredients but I won't have you grow complacent.
And about the food: there's no grand conspiracy, you drama king. Much of what you eat is not "real." The butter, sugar, fats, and some seasonings are conjured or duplicated. Once digested, they break down harmlessly into magic. That's why no one is gaining weight. The actual food underneath is much healthier than you expect. I checked all of this before agreeing to send you there, and I'm glad you're exercising as well, if against your will.
Now, meu anjo, I do have some questions:
– Which house are you in? You forgot to mention the most basic detail!
– Do you have a favorite place in the castle? If you say your room I'll tan your hide.
– How's your wand working? Any difficulties with it? Iara Hair is notoriously mischievous.
– Is there anything you need?
– And are you sleeping well? (Be honest, I can arrange something different if you need it)
Write back soon - but not too soon.
With all my love,
Mamãe.