5th July, 1893

Flora,

Certainly you've heard the news by now, but I will relay it to you nonetheless, for it is important to tell one's own stories, don't you think?

I am, it seems, to be on bedrest for the remainder of the month. Bedrest. Can you believe such a thing? That I, a young man full to the brim of vitality and innate flying ability (I am on bedrest; you must allow me my exaggerations) must remain confined to my bed for weeks on end?! Alright, perhaps I did fall from my broomstick when attempting a trick with Sirius and break my leg in three places, but still.

Bedrest.

(It is worth noting that the healer did suggest a wheelchair might make my imprisonment more bearable, but Uncle Orlando vetoed that plan when I asked if it could be made to fly.)

And now, I must beg of you to keep your poor, wretched cousin abreast of all that happens out there, in the outside world, lest I lose my mind entirely. I don't even have summer homework to keep me occupied, only the looming anxiety of our upcoming O.W.L. results. Merlin, this is going to be a dreadfully long summer.

Yours in captivity,
Rex

— Flora Mulciber —

  

5 July, 1892

Rex,

I always thought you the most sensible of our bunch, but it seems I'm inclined to agree with Uncle Orlando this time. Surely you did not actually ask for a flying wheelchair, did you? You're much smarter than that. I would have simply enchanted it myself and asked for forgiveness afterwards. I'm afraid to say it, but you've done this to yourself.

But all humor aside, I hope you are okay. Mama said that you'd crashed your broomstick, but a broken leg? With three separate fractures? This is why I refuse to fly with you both. Remember to take your potions daily and do not, under any circumstances, do anything stupid. As much as having you out for the quidditch season might help Slytherin's chances of winning the cup next year, I don't think I could stand being forced to listen to you complain about not being able to play for the year.

I will visit soon and bring treats. In the meantime, read a book, teach Auberon to play chess, practice your penmanship—I promise there's more to do than you think.

Yours from the outdoors,
Flora

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The following 1 user Likes Flora Mulciber's post:1 user Likes Flora Mulciber's post
   Iphigenia Adebayo

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6th July, 1893

Flora,

None of the children can play chess. Wizard or otherwise. Oh Adele tried, bless her, but Auberon could not even sit still long enough to learn the rules. I may die in this bed.

Yours in increasing desperation,
Rex

— Flora Mulciber —

  

7 July, 1892

Rex,

You call yourself a Hufflepuff but you haven't the patience to teach him? Older brothers do have that ability, I promise it. Merriweather was never too eager to teach me anything, but I swear I would had been a lot better for it had he made an attempt to.

But never fear, I will let Mama know that I must call on you later this week. I will bring whatever I can find that may entertain you. You're not allowed to die of boredom on my watch.

Most patiently,
Flora

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