alt_justin | Entries tagged with fostering

Since antiquity, tribal and societal elders have been revered for their experience and wisdom. In some cultures, the eldest members were deemed to be possessed of special capacities, having survived the ravages of disease, injury and other hardships which befell other, less fortunate souls among their number. In the society of wizards, survival to extreme old age is more common, but no less to be respected.

Furthermore, the role of parent is often regarded as both a privilege and a sign of prosperity, especially when magical parents succeed in producing magical offspring. This is of particular importance in closed societies, such as the Protectorate, where the population must be constantly replenished in order to ensure the livelihood and prevalence of future generations. It is essential that the magical population grow in size or at least remain constant, lest the far greater numbers of muggles in Protectorate care should attempt to overthrow their minority rulers. Thus, the prowess and status of large magical families has been judged by Ministerial programmes as a desirable condition, to be rewarded as appropriate.

However, not all magical children are lucky enough to be born into such propitious circumstances. A child may not choose his parents and thus ought not to be punished for his birth; yet not all birthrights are equal in the eyes of the law. In the case of halfblood children whose parents miscalculated in their choice of partner, it is the solemn duty of society to ensure that their education be conducted in a proper manner. For many, that obligation requires that the child be placed in the home of one of those families whose lineage is impeccable, in order to ensure that a proper value system may be instilled in their charges.

This concept is at the core of demanding filial obedience to the sovereignty of one’s parent or foster-parent, who must in those cases supplant the importance of the birth parents for the purpose of inculcating all the Protectorate’s best philosophies into the minds and hearts of their young wards. One’s foster-parents are chosen out of all the families in the Protectorate to have the most efficacious, wisest advice for those in their care. Indeed, by placing halfbloods in their homes, the Protectorate itself has indicated the trust and reverence which ought to be accorded them.

From the simplest needs, such as food, clothing and shelter, to the more complex and confusing realm of such diverse topics as marriage, financial management and career choice, a foster-parent is bound by honour to act in interest of the child. The child, it therefore follows, must endeavour to behave with full faith and credit to his guardian. As in the tribal societies of old, one must accept that one’s elders, who have been given the right to direct one’s path, recognise through experience and wisdom what the child may not yet fully understand.

In the best of these situations, the relationships that emerge are marked by deep bonds of shared affection and sincere gratitude, creating a mutually beneficent association that shall endure long beyond the moment when the ward is judged ready to assume full responsibility for his own affairs. One hopes that all those in fostering shall enjoy not only the favours of their guardians’ attention while growing, but a transition to adulthood that denotes mutual respect, so that they may pass into society as true heirs to its glory.

Dear Mr and Mrs Jugson,

Thank you very much for the parcel that arrived this morning; it's most thoughtful of you to send the jumper as I had just been thinking I needed to look for one. I'm quite fond of the colour, too, Mrs Jugson.

Mr Jugson, I'm rather embarrassed to have to write to you on another matter. You see, I have been corresponding with Flourish and Blotts on the subject of the textbooks for Professor Dolohov's lessons that were unavailable at the beginning of term. The assistant, Mr Chau, has been quite helpful providing a selection of the necessary texts. Unfortunately, I received an owl from him this morning as well, informing me that they attempted to draw payment from my Gringott's account on Friday and were turned down for insufficient funds.

Sir, I'm sure there's some clerical error or mistake on the part of the bank, naturally. We had agreed that the allotment should be transferred into that account by the first day of business of each month; that should have been last Monday. If you'd be so kind as to contact Gringott's and ensure that the transfer is completed, I would appreciate it. I shall look forward to your post or owl informing me that I may authorise payment to the bookshop.

Remy and Alfie send their love. We're all quite fine and so far as I know, their lessons are going well, as are mine.

Thank you again for your kindness.

Regards,

-Justin Finch-Fletchley

Hullo, All,

Well, I've had my first taste of the Hufflepuff dormitories, what? I say, it really is quite cosy, if ever so slightly cramped, with six of us. (And Summers is rather a giant, isn't he? Plus he and Smith are bally well slovenly, I must say.) But it's near the kitchens so it ought to be comfortable in the winter months. And it's closer to Slytherin's common room entrance than Ravenclaw Tower is, at any rate.

The Jugsons were pleasant enough. Mr Jugson seemed well stiff at the press conference but I think that was perhaps the reporters and cameras; he was jolly kind afterward when we were talking. Hydra's right about Mrs Jugson, though: She's well sober and not at all gracious. But I'm sure everything will be fine. At least Mr Jugson did say straight off that he had no intentions of creating any difficulties. I say, perhaps Mr Rosier spoke to him beforehand. I shouldn't wonder if he'd shared my concerns, what.

Remy and Alfie may be another matter but as Hydra says, I'm older and a good deal taller than either of them. I only hope they don't decide that two-on-one is a sporting ratio, what? (Joking, for the most part. Remy in particular knows that I've as much damning information on him as he has on me, so I rather think he can be relied upon to keep Alfie in line.)

Pansy, you're right: Susan Bones is cracking good fun. Megan Jones and Ernie MacMillan are both well nice, too. Hopkins and Stebbins are quiet but I expect that's just because none of us know one another too well yet. I say, it's no Gryffindor Tower, Ron, but on the whole I think I shall be most content.

-Justin

Hullo again,

I say, it's been quite a long couple of weeks, what, with Terry's and Sally-Anne's difficulties.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you all but we've all been preoccupied with their more pressing problems. But now that they're both able to monitor their journals again--well, I mean to say, I had best get this in before something else happens, what!

So, I'm not sure whether any of you who were there realised it but at that camp in Newcastle, while the rest of you went to see the herb garden, a camp official called my name and told me to come with him. I didn't see much choice and it certainly wasn't worth a panic, not to mention that had I looked guilty or tried to signal any of you or done anything else well odd, I'm sure he might have thought something was amiss and chosen to scrutinise me further. Hydra says she saw that I was well frightened but that it looked more or less the way anyone would do when one can't imagine why one's in trouble--sort of like the look people got in Cambridge when the Proctors told them they weren't meant to walk on the grass, what?

Well, anyway, as I said, this bloke asked me if I were Justin Finch-Fletchley and of course I bally well said that I was, and then he said that I was to come with him, so I did. And he led me into the large house they told us were their administrative offices. I was getting more and more nervous, I can tell you! But when I managed to ask him whatever could be the matter he just said, 'Don't know, do I? Someone wants to meet you,' and then grumbled a bit about being put off the schedule for the morning. He took me to a rather nice little study overlooking the lawn. Mr Rosier was there--Finnigan's guardian, what--and he invited me to sit down and then he asked had I given any thought to staying in England at the end of the year.

I say, of course I have done, what! But I tried to stay calm and listened to what he had to say about it. It was difficult to tell if he knew anything; I don't think he did, really, because at one point he tried to make it sound as if I could escape Toubon and the others by declaring right away and getting Sorted so that I'd no longer be considered a Beauxbatons student. I suppose he didn't consider that one would still have to see them in the corridors or that they are sharing Ravenclaw Tower to be much of an impediment, what?

But he didn't say anything that even remotely sounded like a threat. And he did offer tea but I said no, thank you, I was quite content, so that I wouldn't become tempted to tell him things I might not have done otherwise. I don't think it was his own idea to talk to me, though: I think that someone else at the Ministry believes it would be a coup for them to gain a defector out of the Beauxbatons delegation. They asked Mr Rosier to come because of Seamus and in his new job I suppose it's rather under his jurisdiction.

I didn't ask just then about my mother. I didn't wish to give them any reason to look into her any more than the French have done. Besides, he mentioned going into fostering so I doubt they'd want her to come to England--which jolly well suits me since I'd want her to leave France altogether, what? And go to Canada or America or somewhere it'll be much harder for them to decide they do want her hostage against my good behaviour.

Because that's the pill among the sugar, isn't it? The reason they want me to stay is to show everyone how brilliant life is here and declare myself a bally old convert to the Protectorate's way of life. So if I were to stay, I expect I'd have some responsibilities to uphold and of course, while Mr Rosier didn't say anything of the kind, it stands to reason that if I displeased the Ministry, there could be repercussions, what?

But if no one's thought already of holding her then perhaps I could say that as a condition of my remaining, I want to make sure no one in France can retaliate against her, and that I want confirmation she's been able to go somewhere else to live. I think she has an aunt in America; perhaps she can go and live with her and then she'll be safe. That would give them something they want while making sure I've got something I want without necessarily making them realise their mistake.

He said that there were a number of details we'd have to work out, such as where I'd be fostered (but he implied that it'd be with a well-to-do family, what) and I don't know about the YPL or anything, I didn't ask. He also didn't say I had to give an answer straightaway, that I should take all the time I needed, but of course, it should be decided before the end of the term.

So. I thought we should all have a think about what else I might want to ask for by way of assurances, before I give an answer. Or what else there is to think about. I've a list and it's growing longer but I know you lot will jolly well have questions I can't think of and wouldn't necessarily know to ask.

What's Hufflepuff like? I mean to say, I've barely spent any time with Smith, MacMillan, Hopkins and Stebbins. (Isn't there another one in the 4^th? Oh, Summers.) I say, we'd be rather cramped, what?

-Justin

Hullo, all,

Viktor called the Strettons' and Mrs Stretton answered. She told him that Sally-Anne couldn't come and speak to him as she's been grounded. He said she was polite but a bit frosty, what, and mentioned that Sally-Anne's been coming and going on her own too much for a girl of her age. I say, it sounds as if she wasn't impressed by Krum at all. I hope that didn't make things worse for her, having an older boy ask for her.

He asked if she was all right and Mrs Stretton said yes, she's fine. He asked if he could speak to Jeremy. She didn't bally well like that, what, but she had him fetched to the grate and he more or less confirmed that Sally-Anne's all right and that she'd see us on the train. Of course, Viktor says Mrs Stretton was just there off to the side, so Jeremy could hardly do anything else, if you follow me.

Has anyone else heard more?

Oh, and Ron: I can't tell you much about the Quidditch, sorry to say. I, er, fell asleep, what?

-Justin