Dearest Ella,

Your letter has brought me warmth in such a dull and dark time. I must admit I'm dreadfully tired of Hogsmeade; between an infernal fog, a rampaging troll, and my husband, I don't know which I'm most irritated by. Fortunately, my daughter is here to offer some tolerable conversation; she is my gift to the world, but mostly to myself.

An offer of cigarettes is a welcome one, my dear. We've only just begun to run out, though I've planned to commandeer Aurelius' cigars should need be.

Soon, I shall have returned to my precious Westley Park and escaped this maddening village. Feel free to visit me, my dear. You know my chimney is open quite often to my favourite guests.

P.S. They ought to send you here; if anything could disperse this wretched fog, it would be you, my dear Ms. Black.

Yours, most sincerely,