[8] Billet Doux

7 October 1978

Dear Ms Selwyn,

Thank you for your letter. Classes are dull and the castle is draughty as we approach the cold months. My house dormitory is located beneath the Black Lake on the grounds, and as I'm sure you can imagine, we do not get a lot of sunlight to warm ourselves in the morning.

My favourite class currently is Transfiguration. The professor is Minerva McGonagall – being educated in Europe you may have read some of her publications. Unfortunately, the British Ministry is very by-the-tome with education, so I had to seek these out outside of class. McGonagall is brilliant, although she's a halfblood. We are learning about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration to lead into Conjuring, which is the focus of the entire NEWT test for Transfiguration.

I quite enjoy Potions also, though some people have a knack for it that I just can't seem to master. My friend Severus is studying a mastery right now, and he has a mind for potions. He would likely enjoy discussions with you, you seem the type to argue a point.

I look forward to hearing of your latest adventures.

Yours sincerely,

Regulus Arcturus Black

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

9 October 1978

Dear Mister Black,

I was delighted to hear from you so promptly. Tales from your mother had me anticipating waiting a month for your response, but perhaps I did not account for the chore that writing to one's own mother can be. When I attended school, my mother wrote every week. At first, I replied immediately, but as I got older time grew scarcer, and there weren't enough minutes in a day to be writing home every week. I also became considerably more independent and felt less need to write often.

I must encourage you to write to your family though, because you never know when they will be taken away from you with no chance to say goodbye. The last six months have been difficult to trek alone, and I only wish I had taken advantage of their company while they were still here.

Moving away from sadder topics, I have read a lot about your Professor McGonagall, both through my schooling and in my own research. Did you know she is an Animagus? Have you seen her transform? She is one of 7 Animagus in all of Britain, and a truly incredible witch. Transfiguration was also one of my favourite topics, and I scored well in my G.O.L. (Grim Onerous Life and Enchantment Modules). Conjuring is an excellent skill to have.

As for what I have been doing, I split my time between absorbing as much of the Black family library as I can and being dragged along to afternoon teas with your mother. Of course, I am grateful for the patronage of your family but (and don't tell your mother I've said so) the teas are so dull, and no one really wants to discuss the implications of Albus Dumbledore's discovery of the healing properties of dragon blood.

I will end my letter here with hopes that I have not become a past-time that warrants a response once a month or less.

Affectionately yours,

Hermione Jean Selwyn

Heiress to a small burnt-down manor in Portugal and Patronee of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

11 October 1978

Dear Ms H J Selwyn,

Your letter was received during the breakfast mail and heartily laughed over as I sat in the back of A History of Magic class. Unpurse your lips, I can feel your disapproval from here – our History of Magic teacher is a ghost called Binns. He died one day some 70 years ago and got up and went to class anyway. Unfortunately, his dying has also meant that his lessons have not caught up with the recent history of the Wizarding world and the Goblin Wars become unspeakably dull when you are on your seventh year of learning about them.

I will endeavour to write to mother more often, if only to stop her sending an owl every second day pestering me for a reply because she has seen I write back to you. (No, don't say sorry like I know you want to, writing to mother is a small price to pay for the pleasure of your correspondence). I think she is pleased, though I must warn you that she almost certainly has designs to marry you off to me, if what my cousin Narcissa says is true.

Narcissa says she met you at one of the afternoon teas, and sympathises with their perpetual dullness. She is married to Lucius (did you know that? I feel like it is not new information for you.) and as you know, they are having troubles with producing an heir. She is a lovely woman and sharper than you would expect from a witch of her standing. I would encourage you to reach out. She may not be interested in dragons' blood specifically, but she will argue for hours of the merits of dragon hide in potions AND fashion.

Today my dorm mate Amycus woke to find his hair had been turned bright yellow overnight. I say with a reasonable amount of certainty that I have not seen a Cheering Charm go quite so awry before, but regardless it was amusing.

I am a prefect, as you may know, and seventh year prefects are in charge of the Halloween Feast. I'm very sad that you may never get the chance to see Hogwarts in all her splendour, but the decorations are always a sight to behold. I will send a picture when we have finished decorating but suffice to say before this year I had not realised quite how much went into the whole display.

Something to think about – the third principal exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration states that intentional curse damage cannot be reversed. If someone's arm is lopped off with a Slicing Hex, transfiguration can't be used to regrow the arm, but no one seems to have thought about reattaching the arm. Could that be an exception to the exception? Or is this a simplistic view and I am missing something obvious? McGonagall seemed unwilling to investigate the possibility.

Write soon.

Your faithful correspondent,

R A Black

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and potentially limbless wonder

11 October 1978

Dear Mr R A Black,

DO NOT CHOP YOUR ARM OFF.

Sincerely yours,

Hermione

11 October 1978

Dear Hermione,

I remain fully limbed and still none the wiser to Gamp's exception's exceptions.

Yours,

R.A.B

12 October 1978

Dear Regulus,

In answer to your question, hypothetically speaking you should be able to reattach the limb with a simple Sticking Charm. Muggle Healing reattaches errant limbs using a type of needle and thread, and the flesh and nerves reconnect in the healing process. Maybe curse damage would hinder that process? Regardless, it's not something I'd like to experiment with without a large healing team to back me up. To repeat my previous advice, DO NOT CHOP YOUR ARM OFF.

Yes, I have spoken to Narcissa, she is a gentle soul. I wish her all the luck with her pregnancy though my premonitions are not favourable.

Your mother tries her hand at subtlety, but she is a very blunt witch, so it is very obvious what her plans are for me. She took me to a bridal shop yesterday afternoon "just to gauge my taste" she said. I hoped to steer her away from arranged marriages, I think the practise is barbaric, but apparently you English Purebloods have your traditions. I am unphased – you are not the worst husband I can think of.

I look forward to seeing the Halloween decorations.

Yours regardless,

Hermione

Your future indentured servant (wife)

12 October 1978

Dear Hermione,

You lavish me with compliments. I look forward to mother organising the "not worst ever" wedding to the "not worst wife" and having a "not that terrible" life. I am joking, of course. I'm sure you will be a wonderful wife when my mother eventually bends us both to her will. Don't tell her I said that. In fact, it might be best if you burn this letter and tell her I have met my tragic demise with the Giant Squid in the Black Lake.

Interesting to hear of the Muggle way of Healing. It sounds ghastly and positively medieval. They sew the skin together? What happens if the limb is damaged?

I imagine that Muggles are prone to infection. Magical blood cleanses most common infections and the others are easily treated with potions, but the inferior blood I imagine has reduced efficacy, not to mention the filth they live in. How does the limb not just rot away?

Eagerly awaiting your response,

Regulus

Your future not-the-worst husband and heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

14 October 1978

Dear Mister Black,

Your mother is in deep mourning following your watery departure and told me to tell you that she deeply regrets that our pending marriage was so horrifying that you resorted to dalliances with tentacles. She didn't, of course, but I do so hate talking about taffeta and doilies. I couldn't give a hoot about the fashionable lace patterns in Witches Weekly and I think if I'm asked about wanting children one more time, I will have to join you at the bottom of the Black Lake.

Muggles have similar hygiene standards to us, at least in western Europe and Britain, and especially in hospitals. They have invented ways to kill germs and infections without magic. Given your otherwise apparent intelligence I'm a little baffled that you subscribe to such baseless claims as blood purity.

I'm not well versed in Muggle healing, so I can't provide an in-depth explanation of the process, but if the limb is damaged beyond repair, they can fashion an artificial one to do the job.

I will be returning to Portugal for a week and a half tomorrow to take care of some family affairs with our attorney. I will write on my return.

I remain your affectionate correspondent,

Ms Selwyn