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Professor Ambrose

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July 31st, 2004

11:04 pm: Messy Trunks, Wrath, and Colorful Language

I’ve begun packing for my return to Hogwart’s, slowly and methodically, making sure, since there are a few more days left, that things will stay neat and organized. I hate opening a trunk with things all out of place. And the students know when I open a messy trunk because they get the wrath on the first day of classes. Just a bit of fun, I’m afraid.

 

So, I leave for Hogwart’s in less than two days time. I shall be there a day before the students, only to arrange my classroom since classes start the day after The Sorting Ceremony. I eagerly await the ceremony this year. Curiosity has taken hold of the present situation and I wonder how the witches will be sorted and what the response will be. I have heard what wizards are saying but seeing is believing.

 

Speaking of what wizards are saying, my Marissa and Bradley and Eadwine came to visit this weekend. We graciously took them in and had sort of a soirée. We invited my brothers and their wives Doyle and Cassidy; Berwyn and Maggie; Darnell and Rachel, and Alban and Gwen. None of them children but two are expecting. I can’t wait for more grandchildren. Along with Bradley and Eadwine came their son Seamus who just started working for Gringotts and his lovely fiancé Mirabella. Of course my mother and father were invited but traveling is such a burden for them sometimes so we just kept the fires open and let them pop in on conversation. We had this little gathering to discuss the recent news events.

 

And the topic on our tongues was, nonetheless, the allowing of witches to attend Hogwart’s. Surprisingly, well maybe not so, Bradley, Seamus, Berwyn and I are the only ones who think this is a great opportunity. What pains me to think about is how all of the females in this family think this is wrong. Now, I would think they would be happy for all the girls, happy for girls like Marissa who have potential talent and ability.

 

Now, I have my speculations of the whole thing, of course I do. I haven’t seen such a thing in so long, witches practicing magick outside the home. I mean, who knows if they can handle the attention or the spells or charms or transfigurations. But who are we to decide that they can’t even try? I want to give them a chance and I will give them a fair chance. I will give them practice after class, as I would with anyone, if they request it. If they come to me and ask for help, I shall help. Everyone deserves the chance to try. I bet there will be some of the female students who will get things much better than the male students. And I believe that the male students may get things better than the females. But to not give them a chance because of other witches? I don’t believe in condemning one because of others. To be prejudice towards a group? I know no such thing.

 

I find it treacherous that other females condemn them as well. To say that it is right that females are not as good as the males and to actually be a female when you state it just seems so treacherous. That they would make themselves a different class just seems so strange to hear.

 

Now, our discussions never go on with Marissa in the room because they can become very heated debates. Mind you, nothing ever gets out of hand, but sometimes the language can be a bit graphic and I prefer to not have my niece subject to such vulgar, especially when some comes from my own lips *grin*.

 

So, we all spend time with her in intervals, a half an hour in the garden where we discuss, in a less colorful manner, what we were discussing and see she had questions. Now, I don’t expect her to divulge every little question to the others since I know she waits for me, but when I went to talk to her, she was rather quiet. She was rather nervous and afraid. She told me she didn’t even know if she wanted to attend. I was shocked but she still has a few years and her mind might change. But from the more we spoke, I think she’s afraid she won’t do to well with the other professors, but even as I reassured her that they were great professors, she was reserved. She makes me laugh, my Marissa, she will always want to be tutored by me I'm afraid.

 

On the last night of our party, after dinner and before everyone was to leave, Marissa gave us a great little show of her talents. She has become quite the little witch for her age. But, she is gone right now and I won’t see her until Christmas break. I will have owl posts nearly every other day but it is never the same as seeing her bright face and those gorgeous green eyes. Until then owl posts and letters and packages will be magnificent.

 

And until Hogwarts I sign this journal, Galen Magus Aldwyn Ambrose, farewell.

Current Mood: discontentdiscontent

July 30th, 2004

09:53 pm: Bradley's Reply

I wrote to my Marissa a few days ago expressing the wonderful new revelations at Hogwarts. I wrote how I look forward to teaching her in the classroom and express my congratulations in the matter. I due fear trying to persuade her mother in allowing her to attend and the great benefits that will come from this but I believe with a letter to her husband, Bradley, a few days in advance, he can, as I expressed break the idea to her easily before Marissa’s young mind and mouth get the best of her. I wrote to Bradley and expressed my concern with the matter of her mother allowing her to attend, and even though Bradley has the say, she will make his life (how to put this delicately?) hell while Marissa is away. I received his letter this morning and was delighted to read the same eagerness he had towards the situation that I had in the beginning. He says he finds it hard to not spill the details to Marissa himself:

 

“I understand your eagerness and desire to express this to Marissa yourself. Not only does she adore you but she only seems to talk about magic when you’re around. I believe if I was to tell her, like I so desire while watching her in the garden at this moment, she would just shrug it off until she heard from you so perhaps I shall wait for your letter to arrive dear brother and watch the appropriate response from her. It will be hard not to dispense any information, especially when telling Eadwine. You know how she feels about this already. If you don’t mind me saying, your sister is quite hard headed and stubborn. I’m hoping perhaps when she sees Marissa’s eyes and hears her desires Eadwine will show some leniency. So, let us pray that will be the outcome and we must get together soon for I know Marissa will have much to say that will not fit in a letter.”

 

I eagerly await her reply and must arrange for a visit.

 

In the meantime, however, I believe I should assemble my academic plans for the year. I must, perhaps, rethink the curriculum with some charms that will please the ladies as well as the men, not that I don’t have many, but I do think I should prepare. Besides, I loathe having the same boring plan every year, where is the fun in that? So, until the next free moment, good evening.



Current Mood: sillysilly
Current Music: The ticking of the clock

July 29th, 2004

01:21 am: Owl Post and Marissa

I recieved a delightfully shocking letter this evening while spending the last few days of my summer break at home with my beautiful wife Aislin Betha having a wonderful picnic on her garden. We had seen the owl approaching from the distance and had the speculations it was concerning work since it was about that time of year for the yearly motivational letter, including the start of term and such, things one does not forget eitherway. But to my utmost surprise the letter was speaking of something much more tender. I read it with a eagerness I had when I was a child and reread the letter with a slight grin on my face. My dear Aislin asked me tenderly if everything was fine and I replied that indeed it was and shared the wonderful news with her. She doesn't have the same faith I have but she put on a believable show just for my sake.

One of the first things that came to mind was my wonderful niece Marissa Garrnet, the daughter of my intelligent sister Eadwine Maida and her splendid husband Bradley Carter Garrnet who just turned 9 this summer, we had a lovely party for her here at the home in the garden with the golden sunlight shining down on her golden threads. It was a great time.

I've been stressing the need for her to learn magic and only through the approval of her father have I been able to teach her a few charms and spells, simple things that won't get her in trouble. She shows the same divine understanding for charms as I did at her age. She may have Garrnett for a name but she is a true Ambrose. I hoped one day I would have a daughter but years have proven to not agree with my or my wife and I fear we may never have a child at all.

Aislin is delightful with the idea of Marissa making herself known throughout the wizarding world but she is skeptical, as am I, of the capabilities in a witch. I mean, especially high class witches like my family has produced. There is no need for these witches to perform any sort of spells around the house that is why we have house elves and maids, but still, I would rather have a well educated niece than a pitiful dunce one; no offense to my sister or my mother and aunts and sister-in-laws.

So, I must write to Marissa this evening and express this wonderful news to her and her father and mother. I want her to anticipate her arrival in a few years and I know she will have many questions so I think the sooner she knows and can respond before the beginning of school where I may be busy, the more questions she can expect to get answered.

The only thing I fear, however, is the torments these young girls will face. These are hard times and are going to be much harder for these young women who will be teased, bullied, pressured, taken advantage of, and tried. They will be expecting it at least and might be able to prepare for it. I hope...

Well, my Aislin is getting restless for some company in the garden and I must get back to my dinner and wine while I draft a letter in my head.

Good Evening...



Current Mood: amusedamused
Current Music: the despondent sighs of my Aislin
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