April 2nd, 1888

Annabelle Scrimgeour,

You are most lucky your mother has been persuasive this day. I was within seconds of apparating to your aunt’s house and scolding you in person – though would you learn then? I think not. If your history thus far is anything to go by, it is a miracle I am even sending you this owl and not simply denying all knowledge of you ever existing; a thought, I am ashamed to admit, has crossed my mind more than I would care it to.

What in Merlin’s beard were you thinking? You have a lot of explaining to do. Who is this Mr. Crouch you were seen – unchaperoned might I add – drinking with. I am beyond disappointed with you.

I want a good reason why I ought not bring you home. Your aunt has been telling me that you have been settling in properly and, yet, why am I being made to write you? Because of this folly? It is abundantly clear to me you care not for your family. There is no other reason to are persistent in making sure you look a fool to everyone you encounter.

My blood is boiling thinking about my mudblood of a child – why are you like this?

I expect an owl within a few days or I will be seeing you in person.

Your father,
Mr. A. C. Scrimgeour