A letter had come in unfamiliar handwriting – so he did feel a slight pang of guilt when he realised it was his mother’s. They wrote letters rarely, and saw each other even more infrequently. Jude unfolded the rest of the letter with some trepidation, dreading that if anything had come from her it was probably something significant, and probably nothing good.
He was relieved to discover he was entirely wrong. And that there was, for once, perhaps no harm in answering her.
He was relieved to discover he was entirely wrong. And that there was, for once, perhaps no harm in answering her.
13th September, 1891
Mother,
Your letter was a surprise. I’ve been well. Busy, but well.
No, I never knew that. I remember some Transfiguration books in the library. I read a few of them one summer – but maybe they were yours? I suppose I didn’t ask.
I only managed to become an Animagus last month – back in August, when it stormed most of the night. It stormed over London, at least. But I’d been studying for two and a bit years beforehand. I hadn’t done any Transfiguration in a while, so I had to brush up; and then the process itself is a long one, and a lot of effort.
Worthwhile, though. And I’m glad you haven’t forgotten all your old interests. Are you actually thinking of becoming one?
Yours,
Jude
Jude
