My friend Saxon,

I must confess that this Christmas has been the most gloomy of all thus far. Mother insists that all will be well, and the house is decorated as its been every year, but I simply cannot ignore the fact that my father is wounded. As you may remember, he was involved during the Ministry disaster, but he ended up even more worse for wear than I'd imagined when I received a letter. He has only shown his face once since I arrived home, and I'm almost sure it was on accident; I barely got a greeting out before he disappeared. Mother seems well enough, but I know my Mama. I know she's worried.

He did not come down to open presents with us, which was most disappointing. I spent my final hours at Hogwarts perfecting the details on the painting I intended to give him as a gift, and it remained unwrapped by the morning's end. Even if he does see it eventually, I fear he'll throw it in the fire. It is my hypothesis that the disaster has rendered him unable to love me.

To answer your questions, I did get many nice things for Christmas. I got more hair ribbons than I can count, along with two pretty new winter dresses and other assorted items. I even received a nicer cage for Mrs. Afton, my toad, but I've already forgotten who gave it to me!

I, like you, am not allowed to practice magic outside of school—or at least I assume not. I would never ask my mother to break the law out of fear of disappointing her. I never saw Merriweather do it, anyways. I spend my time focusing on History of Magic, which I suggest you do, too.

I do long to return to Hogwarts, but not before I learn more of my father's condition. I worry about him. I am happy I will be able to see you and all of our friends soon, though.

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