June 16th, 1888

Miss Woodcroft,

Mr. Charles? Are you mocking me? I... can't believe you, you're like a child am at a loss for words. That's not very ladylike, Miss Woodcroft. I'm more inclined to call you something else now.

And it's alright. If I am to be honest, I'd kind of hoped the old thing had died. Alas, here we are again with my being tormented by it once again. Look at those yellow eyes of his. Do you think he was transfigured into an owl years ago and has been plotting revenge on wizard kind ever since?

I suppose so. You are quite resourceful, it seems. You're going to need that resourcefulness, firewhiskey. The fog is encroaching on the rest of Hogsmeade so please, please be careful. I'll update you as soon as I can.

With regard,
Charlie
Not Mr. Charles