Poppy wasn’t sure if this note had been here long and she’d just failed to notice it or if she’d managed to just miss the delivery. It was odd to think that her siblings or the staff wouldn’t have caught it sooner if it had been sitting, so she supposed it must have been recent. Tugging the little scrunched up paper with her name scrawled across it, the girl wondered what it could possibly be.

Upon reading the note, an anonymous love letter it seemed, Poppy felt her heart skip a beat. Who could it possibly be from? Her debut had passed… only a few days ago? It couldn’t possibly be from one such suitor already. She’d only met each gentleman for a dance or so. Unless it was from… of course not. That was a silly thought. Poppy frowned. Perhaps it was one of her friends playing a trick. She wouldn’t put it past Beryl to think anonymous notes were funny. Then again, not even Beryl would be so cruel as to play with someone’s heart strings in this way. Poppy sighed a little dreamily as she tucked the note into her bosom and made her way up the stairs to craft a reply.

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I appreciate the loveliest of sonnets but I am so disheartened not have seen a name. Your talents are worthy of taking credit, but I shall respect your will for anonymity.

I shall be in London for this my debut season and thusly shall not be able to take correspondence to the Ivy Leaf in Hogsmeade; I hope this owl finds you well enough! If you should like to reach me again, feel free to send post to the following address enclosed. It is the Foxwood residence where I shall be staying.

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