Her own mother had never been the sort to lecture—but Eury had learned relatively early that her aunt, kind enough to host her and her sister, was prone to musing aloud about the things she wished to see. Indeed, that very morning she had wondered aloud if Eury might promanade soon with the Mr. Harper who had sent flowers; Eury had rolled her eyes and left the prompt hanging in the air of the parlour as she had set about replying to that same gentleman.
26th June, 1894
Mr. Harper,
I should not be surprised by your response, though will have to conjure up some way to get revenge upon my cousin. Mandira—the school at which I attained my magical education—had a small menagerie that included a pair of the same golden snidgets; our own quidditch teams, though, never used the lovely little creatures for sport, so I really should not have given him any credence, even privately. I hope you will not think me too gullible!
To the matter of the young lady, I can of course only speculate, or place myself in her shoes. I think it would take something very dire indeed to merit such aggression—broken promises? Or perhaps he had it coming, spun her a yarn to trick her into believing things that were not true...
I jest, of course! My cousin's comeuppance shall be more subtle.
You are forutnate, I think, to have a mother who speaks her mind—even if it is at length. I expect you are the better for it, and though you may try to hide it, I can see even upon the parchment that you are fond of her.
One's work is important and I should never presume to begrudge you for it. I imagine that the summer months are quite busy ones for the quidditch league. I am to attend a Wimbourne match (my uncle's preferred team) next week; I shall be sure to write to you of my impressions after the fact.
Sincerely,
Eurydice J. Lovegood
Eurydice J. Lovegood
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