Narcissa

[alt_regulus]

I thought perhaps I should write something just to let you know I am not wasting away into 'catatonia'. I'm fine. The arm is fully functional again, too, rendering the whole episode completely useless. I apologise for having put you to such unnecessary trouble last week.

Comments

[alt_regulus]

Haven't you heard? We're out of bounds at the moment: no visitors may enter and neither of us may leave.

You needn't worry, though: Mother's taken the frustration just as you'd expect. Your efforts would be redundant, so it's as well you can't come waste your time and energy here.

[alt_crouch_jr]

Setting aside retributory hexes, then, is there anything you want that could be sent or passed through the Floo to you?

Is that allowed?

[alt_regulus]

Well, if you were so inclined, I wouldn't say no to a tin of ginger biscuits and a glass of that 50-year whiskey of yours. Not to have together, mind you, but Mother hates ginger and we haven't had any decent drink in this house in ages--possibly since I finished off the last of Father's stock sometime in 1980.

Of course, I'll be pleased if you'd just do something about the biscuits. I don't really expect your pity to stretch as far as the whiskey.

[alt_crouch_jr]

Merlin.

Can you get to the fire, then? I don't expect your Mother would let you have the whiskey, and I'm not going to pass it through just to watch her pour it in the grate.

[alt_regulus]

Yes. Good point.

Mother's retired, so there shouldn't be any bother.