Tanya Degurechaff

I could safely say that even after death, I still preferred coffee, but I could learn to appreciate the world of tea rather easily. The green tea took me back over a century to my first childhood and spending time with my grandfather. I hadn't thought about him in so long that I could not even remember his face. I couldn't even remember whether he was my mother's or my father's father.

Likely I would have to get comfortable with forgetting loved ones as I continue living lives, making new acquaintances, and existing as a semi-immortal being who would only be reborn upon death in a new life. I would just have to ensure the time I did spend with those I would eventually forget was as precious as possible.

The white tea was lovely, though I would likely not be keeping any on hand should I decide to keep a tea set. Some black tea I would need to keep some on hand considering the prevailing preference in England for that particular leaf, likely several different ones, though I far preferred the oolong in the side-by-side comparison. There was a certain complexity to oolong that I found more interesting to explore, more like drinking whiskey than black tea's single note of flavor.

But the one that I found to be the most pleasing was the puer tea. Without tasting like it, it reminded me of some of the best coffee I have had, even taking me back to some of the good moments of the first war, my adjutant serving me some of her perfectly prepared coffees. Lieutenant Serebryakov as she was known at the time, though MdR Serebryakov would be more accurate after the war. Such an intelligent young woman who was always eager to learn, and used my lessons to go into politics after the war, becoming a national representative.

I never got a chance to tell her how proud of her I was. I was in hiding after the war and meeting with any of my men would be too dangerous, so I could only visit them at their funerals, always staying in the back, to pay my respects before leaving early. I know I was recognized during those visits, but my cover was thankfully never blown.

How long before I forget her name? Before I forget what she looked like? Would it be this life? The next?

"Wotcher, what are you doing there? Come down before you get hurt!" A voice behind me said. Turning around I could see it was a prefect with a rather vibrantly purple shade of hair.

"Sorry. Was just thinking and it is peaceful here," I said, getting down from the parapet I was sitting on.

"What are you thinking about?" The prefect asked as she started to lead me back inside the castle.

Shrugging, I answered. "Life. Death. Tea."

"Do you, uh, want to talk about it?" The prefect seemed a bit uncomfortable about the topic.

"I'm fine. I was just ruminating on someone I used to know." Looking up at the prefect, and seeing the concern, I couldn't help but notice the similarities in my former adjutant and the prefect. "Besides the hair, you kinda look like her, actually."

"Really? Usually people tell me I look rather unique," the prefect said as her nose changed into a snout and her chin lengthened. Considering some of the things I saw Serebryakov eat, the comparison to a pig was amusingly adept and I felt a small laugh escape. "Feeling better?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "About what?"

"Whatever you were thinking about."

"I guess. I wasn't really all that upset, I just hadn't thought about any of it in a long time."

The prefect looked me over with a frown before nodding to herself. "Listen, the name's Tonks you need to talk to someone about anything, come find me. I'll always be willing to listen. Even after I graduate at the end of the year, feel free to write to me, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you Tonks, I will keep that in mind. My name is Tanya," I said, offering my hand. Such a kind young lady willing to offer an open ear so freely.

—-

Rubeus Hagrid

Rubeus Hagrid, or simply Hagrid as everyone called him, was a large man. A half-giant on his mother's side. He towered over all at Hogwarts, yet despite his intimidating frame, he was a man with an extremely kind and gentle heart. His large size and kindness made him very well suited to the tasks of being the Gameskeeper of Hogwarts. Tending to the grounds of Hogwarts took a fair amount of work as there were several gardens to tend to and a good number of animals that needed care. The Owlery needed regular cleaning, which took a strong back to shovel out the old straw bedding and bring in fresh bedding for the floor.

Currently, Hagrid had a large bucket of bloody steaks and was patting the leathery neck of the equine thestral as he fed the beautiful creature. There was always a small feeling of loss as he looked at the reptilian faces of the herd he had taken care of for decades. Hagrid was only a boy, still a student at Hogwarts when his father passed away. It had taken time for him to really understand what had happened, and even today Hagrid missed his old man.

Mostly though, Hagrid was just happy getting to care for the animals.

"Hey! What are you doing?" a young voice asked behind him. Turning, Hagrid saw it was Harry's red-headed friend… Ron! The youngest of the Weasley boys. Good kid. Less of a troublemaker than his twin brothers, but not as stiff as the prefect brother. Hagrid was reminded a bit of the eldest two Weasley boys when they first arrived at Hogwarts.

"I was jus feeding the thestrals," Hagrid said, patting one of the mares on the neck as he pulled out a piece of steak to feed her. Seeing his hand make contact with the animal and the meat getting consumed would be enough for them to know something was actually there.

"Oh, is that what those pegasi are called?" the blonde girl standing a step behind Harry asked, causing the other three to look at her.

Hagrid gave her a polite smile, understanding what the question really meant about her. "Aye. Beau'iful aren't they?"

"In a way," She answered politely, taking a step closer to get a better look.

"How can you see what he is talking about?" Ron asked.

The blonde looked at the young Weasley, but Hagrid was the one to answer with a bit of a sigh. "Death. Ter see a thestral, yeh have ter know death. Seen someone die, los' a loved one, really internalized tha' we all will someday die."

Four sets of eyes were staring at Hagrid, focused on his impromptu magical creature lesson. Setting the bucket down, Hagrid motioned towards the hut. "Let's head in. I'll put some tea on an' we can talk 'bout it."

The kids nodded and made to go in. Harry looked at the ground before he said, "I lost my parents, but I don't see the thestrals."

"Aye lad, I suspect yeh wouldn't," Hagrid said. "Yeh were a little thing when they died. Too young ter understand wha' was happening. It is abou' knowing in your heart tha' yeh will die someday, tha' wha' happens ter others will someday happen ter yeh. Yeh can know intelligently tha' ev'ryone dies, but tha' don't matter ter the thestrals. It is on'y when death is really felt tha' the thestrals will reveal themselves."

Hagrid rinsed off his hands before setting a plate of rock cakes onto the table the kids gathered around.

Ron was looking at the blonde before he asked a question that made Hagrid wince at the inappropriateness of. Hagrid was not the most high class of people, but he knew it was not good to ask, "Who did you see die?"

Hagrid looked at the blonde girl as she looked off into the distance before looking at the blunt redhead.

"The troll," the bushy haired brunette answered, causing Ron's face to flush in embarrassment.

"Right," he mumbled before he looked at Hagrid. "But we were there too, why don't we see the thestrals?"

"You arrived after I had killed it," the blonde said.

"Aye," Hagrid said with a nod as he filled his tea pot with steaming water. "I've heard o' some bein' able ter see the thestrals after visitin' a sick relative tha' died soon after, but it isn't often summat like tha' happens."

The conversation died down for a moment before the bushy haired girl turned to the blonde. "How do you do it? How are you able to stay so calm after what happened with the troll?" Tears were in the girl's eyes and she was curled in on herself, looking even smaller to Hagrid.

"It was not the first time," the blonde answered. "As wasteful as death can be, eventually you get numb to it. It is still sad to lose someone or realize you will never see someone again, but dwelling on it forever is unproductive. Moving forwards and living your life as well as you can is the best way to honor the fallen."

Hagrid thought about the many people he knew that were no longer among the living as he began pouring cups for his guests. "Aye. I believe yeh are righ'. They would wan' us ter be happy."

—

Harry Potter

Harry didn't know what to do about his friend and fellow orphan having apparently had to deal with a lot of dead people already. Tanya didn't talk about her life much before coming to Hogwarts outside of the fact that she was from a nun-run orphanage. Harry had complained about his family the times homelife came up plenty, but Tanya always remained quiet on the topic unless directly asked. Harry was a little worried that he was maybe being a bad friend by not asking more about that stuff, but neither Hermione nor Ron were doing so either. They seemed to know how being a friend worked a bit better, so maybe this was one of those things you just don't talk about.

His mind dwelled on this all the way to Sunday where he went with Hermione and Tanya to the Headmaster's office for the first meeting of the Magical Language club. They were the last ones to arrive at the statue that apparently lead up to the office, Draco and the two Ravenclaws having arrived already with Draco quietly leaning against the wall next to the alcove the statue sat in. If Harry remembered correctly, the two Ravenclaws were Paravati's sister Padma and Lisa Turpin. Harry didn't know much about either, but had seen Paravati spend time with her sister on multiple occasions.

"Well, seems we're all here, let's get this started," Draco said, turning to the statue to speak to it. "Let Dumbledore know the Magic Language club is here."

After a moment the statue moved out of the way to reveal a spiraling staircase the students took up to the office door, the Headmaster calling out as soon as they arrived at the top to come in.

The office was a large, round room with several wide windows and portraits of the previous headmasters hung up around the room and little silvery devices on shelves producing bits of smoke, spinning, and doing all sorts of things. Harry looked around in awe as he moved towards the oval table setup in the middle where he would have thought a desk would be. Instead seven chairs were arranged around the table with several tea sets and a pair of tea sandwich stands on either end of the oval table with a wide assortment of sandwiches available.

"Welcome welcome," Dumbledore said, with a beaming smile from where he sat at the center of the table wearing pink robes with purple stars. "Feel free to help yourselves and we can get started."

The students took seats around the table and began fixing themselves up cups of tea and grabbing a few sandwiches.

"Now, first thing, do any of you already know any magical language? Even if it is just a few words," Dumbledore asked as he looked around.

Draco raised his hand along with Padma who was a little more uncertain. Harry raised his hand slightly as well.

Dumbledore looked directly at Harry while stroking his beard. "Oh? You know a magical language Harry?"

"Uh," Harry could feel himself shrinking in on himself as everyone's gazes turned to him. "Does talking to snakes count?"

A gasp went around the table from most of the students, causing Harry to shrink in further into himself.

"Parseltongue, yes," Dumbledore answered. "Rather interesting, but I suppose it is a bit expected considering who gave you that scar."

"Voldemort," Harry mumbled, earning another round of gasps at his use of the name.

"Yes. Likely it was when his curse rebounded, a connection was formed between the two of you that allowed you to gain his ability to speak it as a Parselmouth."

Tanya raised her hand politely at this and when Dumbledore motioned for her to speak, she asked a question. "If he gained the ability to speak it in such a manner, is there a way for the rest of us to learn parseltongue?"

"Hmm," Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought while the other students turned to Tanya in shock.

"That's a dark ability. Only dark wizards know how to talk to snakes," Lisa told Tanya.

Tanya rolled her eyes. "It is just a language. That would be like saying German is an evil language because the Nazis spoke German."

"I have to agree with Tanya on this," Dumbledore spoke up, looking at Harry as he said this. "The language itself is not a sign someone is inherently evil, merely that they know a language that happens to have been used by some very bad people in the past. In fact, I believe there is a gentleman in Brazil that can speak parseltongue who runs tours of the Amazon river. To answer the question though, we will have to see if Harry is able to give us lessons another time."

Harry gave Professor Dumbledore a grateful smile.

"What about you Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, changing the topic.

"My father taught me a bit of gobbledygook. He said it would be good to know what the goblins at Gringotts were saying when we visit."

Dumbledore nodded at that explanation. "To be expected. And what about you Ms. Patil?"

"I know a bit of Prakrit, but I don't know if that really counts?"

"I have not studied Prakrit," Dumbledore said, "but I believe it would be akin to Ancient Runes as far as magical languages are concerned, an ancient language used by members of the magical community that is no longer in common use, though I do believe Prakrit also has a fair amount of muggle text associated with it while the Ancient Runes seemed to have been completely lost to the muggles."

Padma smiled at that, seemingly glad to have something relevant to add.

"So, that gives us four languages we can work on learning as I will be leaving Ancient Runes to Professor Babbling. Hopefully you all will decide to take her class in third year. I will have to gather some materials for Prakrit and, Harry, we will need to discuss the matter of your parseltongue another time to see how possible it will be for you to try teaching it."

Harry nodded with a smile as the club moved onto discussing how they would go about studying the languages as Dumbledore wouldn't be assigning any homework or other classwork as it was merely a club and not an actual class, so a bit of a more freeform style would be fine and they would focus on whatever bits the students found they were interested in at the moment. It sounded like it would be a lot of fun to Harry as they chatted.

—

Letter

Dear Father,

My closeness to Tanya has paid off. Harry Potter is a Parselmouth and Tanya has expressed interest in learning it. Dumbledore is hosting a magical language club where it seems we will be learning Parseltongue as one of the languages. He says knowing the language isn't itself a sign of being a dark wizard, but he also said that Harry likely stole the knowledge when The Dark Lord attacked him.

I will continue this friendship with Tanya to learn as much as I can and will keep you updated as I learn anything of import.

Respectfully your son,

Draco Malfoy