September 8th, 1888

Julius Scrimgeour,

My son, I write this to you in the hopes you will return the courtesy. I imagine you do not wish me to write you though please know that I am sorry.

My health is ailing and I fear I may not live to see myself out of this asylum. It is driving me to insanity; the screams, the cries. Everything about this place is terrible and I deserve much worse than that.

I wish to write this to make it known that I am proud to call you my son. You have turned into everything I could have hoped for in my son. You are a strong man who will one day father his own family.

Do not make the same mistakes as I.

Your father,
Argus Scrimgeour

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   Julius Scrimgeour II

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15 September, 1888

— Father —I will admit, the whole time you were being tried, I was conflicted. While the girls have only ever seen this one side of you, I was allotted a time before your accident. And while the memories have grown faint with time, some are still there. The concept that you would even write this letter - it does remind me of that other side, which gives some part of me hope - that the rest of me does not wish to agknowledge.

When I was younger, I idolized you, Father. Now it is hard for me to even wrap my head around why I would have done so. I made excuses for you, trying to justify your actions based on the accident at work. But now, with how far you pushed it and having gone down the same career path to face the same risk, I can no longer accredit your actions to said accident.

While I do not wish death upon you - you are, after all, my father - but if the asylum has changed your mindset, I believe it is to be the place you need to be. And if your death is to come, I will mourn not the man of the past eight to ten years, but the one before that, and possibly the one your letter alludes that you might become.

But I will tell you, the idea that I could ever take the same path as you, is something I would never do, and the thought that you think that possibilities are there for me. Well, it greatly offends me that that is your picture of my character.
— Julius Scrimgeour —

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   Argus Scrimgeour, Bella Scrimgeour

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bree does things!

September 26th, 1888

Julius Scrimgeour,

Your words pain me more than I could ever describe, Julius. But I would wager that is the least I deserve.

Please do not forget how it was before that incident. Please. I am not a begging man but I would beg this one thing of you. It is important for you to remember that.

Do you remember when we found the brood of Puffskeins' and you wanted to keep one of them as pets? What about when I showed you how to cast a patronus? I remember when I used to be able to cast one. It was a Mastiff.

Do you know what I used to think about in order to cast a corporeal patronus? It was you, Julius. I used to think of the day you were born and how happy it made me. When you were sorted into Ravenclaw, I knew then that you would grow into being a fine man destined for nothing but greatness. And please, I did not mean it that way. I would hope you not to take the same path as me.

The days are making me weaker and I would do anything to see your face one last time, my son. It has taken me a few hours to write even this letter - my fingers feel as if they are no longer existent.

Please take care of your sisters - both of them - as well as your mother. I have done terrible things to this family and I know there is nothing I can do to repair the damage I have done.

I love you, Julius.
Please do not forget that.
Please remember me from fonder times.

Your father,
Argus Scrimgeour

~~ THE LETTER HAS SPLATTERS OF DRIED BLOOD ACROSS IT, PRESUMABLY FROM COUGHING ~~

  

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