December 8th, 1894 — First Year Gryffindor Dorm Room

When she'd written her father back in September, it had seemed like a great idea — she was at Hogwarts now, her own person, and everyone around her had fathers. It no longer felt like a betrayal of her mother to talk to her father, or it felt like less of a betrayal — because if Mama was still alive, surely she would have introduced Kaatjie to her father by now. Even Ana could not hold a grudge forever. (Presumably.)

But now it was December, and she had to write her father to nail down the details, and she wasn't sure what to do. How did she avoid telling him too soon? Should she tell him before they met in person?

"Mo," Kaatjie said, looking up from the blank letter. "Can I ask you for advice?"

This went against everything her uncle taught her, but she had to set up a time to meet her father and didn't know how — not just how to nail down the details, and how to keep it a secret from her guardians, but also how to talk to him.

Ramona Pendergast Daffodil Grimstone

  

Mo was curled up in her bed with her Charms reading, trying to take notes and not fall asleep. Reading, though she wasn't terrible at it, must have been the most boring part of classes. Mo just wanted to be up and doing, practicing and using her wand. The importance of understanding the theory behind the magic had been drilled into her head, but it didn't make it any more palatable.

As soon as Kaat appeared with her question, Mo was more than happy to abandon her homework. "Sure, what's going on?" Kaat seemed a little off, nervous maybe? Mo wasn't sure and she had no idea if she would even have any advice to give on whatever it was she was about to be asked, but she supposed that she would try for her friend. Kaat had been her sanity saver here in Gryffindor and she would do anything for the girl who had quickly become her best friend.

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Kaat looked around their dorm room, in case anyone else was going to pop out of nowhere. No one else was here, which meant she had to explain her father to her best friend. Kaatjie wasn't sure how to do this - her uncle had taught her to never talk about her father, lest there be scandal, and after their first time discussing him she had never been brave enough to bring him up to her mother unless Ana initiated.

She swallowed. She was a Gryffindor, her father was a Gryffindor — she would be brave.

"So you know that my Mama is dead," Kaat said tentatively, her voice much shyer than it usually was even though she did often sound gentler when talking about Ana. "But I haven't told you why I live with my uncle instead of my Papa."

  

Mo nodded. She couldn't even imagine. As much as she could be a daddy's girl, she was her mother's miniature in many ways. Life without Mama would be entirely sideways. Truthfully though, it hadn't crossed her mind as weird that Kaat didn't live with her father instead of her uncle. She supposed it should have, but Jameson lived with his aunt, and not even the biological one, so everything was sort of relative.

"Is he still alive?" With his new information, Mo did suppose that it was strange that Kaat had been given to her uncle instead of her father. "Have you ever met him?" Now she was full of questions. Her homework was pushed aside so Kaat could sit on her bed and they could whisper if they needed to.

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Kaat took the wordless invitation and moved from her bed to Mo's, settling on the mattress and crossing her legs under her robes. "They were married but they didn't — get along," she said, an oversimplification because most things that Ana had said about Kaat's father had not been particularly polite or helpful.

"So I've never met him," Kaatjie admitted, in a rush. (Did the errand to maybe-Spain, which Kaat thought about regularly, count? She didn't want to get into it right now.) "But he's — here. He's British."

  

This all sounded like something straight out of Witch Weekly. Mo wasn't sure she knew what on Earth to say about this that would help, but she supposed Kaat just needed someone to talk to.

It was good, wasn't it, that Kaat's father was here and she could maybe get in touch? "Can you write to him?" Did he even know that Kaat existed? Mo, who had grown up in a very traditional (at least family-wise) home was having a hard time wrapping her head around this. How could a parent not want to be involved with their child?

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   Kaatjie Spaans

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Kaat sighed, and shuffled a bit in place where she was sitting on Mo's bed. "I've been writing to him," she admitted, "But I — didn't really tell him who I was." She was worried that if she did, then he wouldn't want to see her. This way, maybe she could charm him first — then he would already be primed to like her when they met.

  

"What did you say to him then?" If Kaat hadn't told her father who she was to him, he probably thought she was just some random person trying to get his attention for no good reason. "I would hope he would want to know who you are." Kaat was such a good person, why wouldn't her father, any father, want to get to know their daughter?

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"I pretended I was writing a research book," Kaatjie said, with a small smile. She was rather pleased with herself, even if it hadn't worked quite the way she wanted it to — she really did think it was a good ruse.