30th May, 1891 — Slytherin Girls' Dormitory
Gretchen had pulled the curtains around her four-poster bed decisively shut and obsessed over the words from the only letter her sister had not destroyed. She would not be going to the coming out ball - it wasn't as though it was hers anyway and there was a fair chance she would push Frida down the staircase - and instead she agonised over a response.
It had been a month as far as Mr Prewett was concerned with no response from her. What must he think?
I understand now. What did he understand? Had Frida written back, trying to put him off? I must tell you the answer is no suggested that even if Frida had tried to scupper things it had not been successful. He was, against all her expectations, more true that she had imagined.
Her heart fluttered - or else the nervous butterflies in her stomach did - and she pulled her quill from her bag, scribbling out three drafts of a response, crossing out lines, becoming more and more unsure of what to say until eventually she finished. Waiting till her dormmates were out at the ball Gretchen walked as quickly as was ladylike to the owlery - wrote another draft while she was there - then finally sent the letter.
![[Image: Gretchen-Sig.png]](https://i.ibb.co/smXSqgL/Gretchen-Sig.png)
Bee is tremendous, isn't she?