My owl is proving quite useful. I received my first letter from Mother a few weeks ago. She told me not to fret about my being in Gryffindor, though I could tell she’s not pleased. She was mostly concerned that I speak to Madam Pomfrey right away so that she’s aware of my condition. She threatened to send a Howler if she didn’t hear from Madam Pomfrey soon and she would write her herself. Mum worries far too much. I’m perfectly fine, and I don’t want to bother Madam Pomfrey my first week.
In Gryffindor, all anyone talks about besides Harry Potter is Quidditch, and even then, he’s the Seeker! Alnair was right, everyone does think he’s great, and people trip over their robes just to praise him for doing nothing. Especially Ginny Weasley, she practically worships him. It wouldn’t surprise me if she kept a tissue of his.
The common room is the worst. I’m having such a difficult time making friends; most of my childhood playmates are in Slytherin, and I think Hermione may have told the others about our rocky start. People give me the cold shoulder. I talked to Alnair for a bit one day after Transfiguration and he told me that I shouldn’t want to be friends with Hermione anyway since she’s not a real Pureblood witch. I told him that doesn’t seem to make a difference, as she earns top marks in each of her classes (and never lets any of us forget it, either). He just scowled and said the teachers only give her such good marks because they feel sorry for the Muggle-borns, and that she’d better watch out because he’s been hearing some interesting rumors in the Slytherin common room, but when I asked him to elaborate he wouldn’t. I wish so badly I were there instead of here, I wish I knew what the rumors were about Muggle-borns.
A few days later, I visited Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. “And it in no way affects my ability to perform magic or do any other activity at Hogwarts, but my mother did want me to tell you.” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Oh, no, we will be keeping a close eye on you, Miss Foxglove,” she said. “Should you feel even the slightest bit unwell, you must come here right away.” She started rambling more about all the symptoms that I must watch out for, but I wasn’t listening because one of the beds across the room had a cat in it. A cat. And not just any cat. A stone cat.
“Why is there a cat in a hospital bed?” Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh dear, you haven’t heard? Oh, poor Mrs. Norris. I’m not sure if I should be the one to tell you, but it seems some terrible Dark Magic is at work. Nothing you ought to worry about, mind.”
Was this what Alnair had been talking about? I could hardly wait to return to the common room to see what all the fuss is about, but right as I started to make my way back to the common room, I started to feel faint and collapsed on the moving stairs.
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