June 16th, 1888

Mr. Umbridge,

Very safe indeed, haven't been allowed to leave since Mum found out I left with Mrs. H the day of the article. Barely allowed into the garden without supervision. Then again there's no visibility, so I supposed that's appropriate.

Normally I would say I'm sorry you're stuck at your desk, but in this case, I feel it rather prudent. If you were allowed you choose, you would likely jump back into the swing far too quickly and get yourself injured. Again. I would hate to have go back, I daresay they've had enough of me lately at Hogsmeade Hospital. If they do let you out again, please stay safe.

Fondly,
February

  

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16 June, 1888

Miss Lynch,

Try to spend as little time outdoors if possible; the short and long-term effects of the fog have still not been determined. I would hate to have to visit you in the hospital due to exposure.

Fondly,

Mr. E. Umbridge

P.S. I've enclosed a copy of J. Alfred Darrow's The Untold Story of the Sycorax Expedition. Perhaps it might persuade you to stay indoors today.

(obviously sent with the book :P)

  

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— set by MJ! —

- sent with owl that crashed, she kept it -

June 16th, 1888

Mr. Umbridge,

You have a knack for unnecessary concern, did you know that? It is both vexing and endearing. Thank you for the book, it was very sweet of you, I shall endeavor to read it from the safety of my bed. I quite enjoy a good adventure, even in novel form. I hope you're safely stuck in your office.

Fondly,
February

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- actually sent via her family owl -

June 16th, 1888

Mr. Umbridge,

I had originally sent a letter to thank you for the book, but it appears  your owl has had some sort of mishap and has injured its wing. It's resting comfortably in my room, but I do not know what you would like me to do for it, since you insist I stay home, otherwise I would bring it back to you.

Fondly,
February

  

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16 June, 1888

Miss Lynch,

Bringing him to me would be impossible, anyways; they've limited transportation in and out of Hogsmeade to specific Ministry personnel—which, fortunately, includes myself.

I suppose I should come get the little bugger, but that begs the question: would I be welcome in your family's home so soon after our "hospital misadventure"?

Fondly,

Mr. E. Umbridge

  

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— set by MJ! —

June 16th, 1888

Mr. Umbridge,

Oh well, aren't you special. I could easily hold onto him, though you might want him looked at, his wing is not right.

As for my family, I've adopted most of the blame for the misadventure, which is nothing new. I doubt they would be rude, but probably hesitant. Mother is visiting an ill friend down the block for a little while this afternoon, should you want to avoid her, but that is entirely up to you.

Fondly,
February

  

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