July 06th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

Have you been well? Work keeping you busy?

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

Richard Gladstone

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 07th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I have been well enough. We are being kept quite busy since we have to brew double the potions and antidotes so that they can be sent into Hogsmeade for the hospital there. And what of you? Have you been keeping well?

Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 08th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

I suppose "well" is a word you could use. I've found employment under Mr. Malcolm MacFusty as a research assistant—you may know him as he's close to your age. I must regretfully admit that I'm far from the Hebrides right now, though; I took part in the expedition into Irvingly and am suffering from Malaria.

Despite my attempts to keep my spirits high, the fear of meeting an early demise has persisted. I suppose those feelings—those fears—compelled me to reach out to you. I do miss St. Mungo's. And you.

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 09th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I remember him, vaguely. We were in different houses. I hope you recover well from the malaria. How bizarre to hear of such a case in the united kingdom! I shall not entertain thoughts of your demise, I refuse to!

I miss you as well. I have told you of my feelings towards you. If it were in my power to be by your side right now, I would be.

Please do your best to not die.

Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 10th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

I'm of the opinion that the mosquitoes that caused the malaria were conjured by the fog—it seems its warped our reality in ways that we cannot yet understand. Though I long for a friendly face, I hardly wish for you to be here now; the last thing I wish if for you to contract my illness. You're a great asset to society, whereas I'm not.

I will try not to die. If it gives you any comfort, I have not perished over the last month when my situation was far more dire and I was far more desperate. (Even more recently, when I was working with dragons. Dragons, Mr. Gladstone! Could you hardly imagine me in such a position?)

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 11th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

How bizarre! I will be quite glad to see us rid of the fog despite how fascinating it is from the outside of it. I am not looking forward to finding out what sorts of causalities will continue to occur due to it.

That is some comfort. You're a strong, resilient woman - I have no doubt that it would take more than mere malaria to snuff your light out. Dragons are more of a danger but I am glad that someone took it upon themselves to provide you with adequate, respectable employment.

Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 12th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

I do hope it goes soon. Despite its proximity to Hogsmeade, Irvingly is a place I never bothered to frequent during my Hogwarts years or in the time since my graduation. It seems like a dreary little village, but I suppose one could attribute that to the bleakness of the fog. I'm not sure how many will die, but there are a number of injuries.

No amount of money will ever be able to repay my debt to the MacFustys; I would offer them my salary if I could survive without it. In a world where it seems everyone is against you, it's nice to have a family—even if I cannot claim them as my own—who cares about my well-being. Perhaps with their assistance I'll be able to forge a career in magizoology (or dragonology, in this case).

I hope your family is doing well?

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 13th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I am sure it looks much more picturesque when one can actually see ones surroundings. From what I have been told, no one can see very far around them when within the fog?

I am in agreement with you on that one. It does my heart good to hear that some sort of good fortune has smiled upon you. I think you would do very well with either pursuit.

My family is doing well enough. My sisters are gobbling up every bit of fog gossip that Witch Weekly sees fit to provide. They are bored without an abundance of social events. This years season has not fared very well with half of society stuck within the fog.

Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 14th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

You can't see much distance-wise, but there are certainly some areas that allow you a better range of sight than others. My group was inside the train station when a swarm of unnatural mosquitoes appeared. We all seemed to share the oddest dream of coffins and old Egyptian symbolism only to rise at the same time, though I admit my memory from that point forward is fuzzy; I nearly fainted not a moment later.

I hope your sisters don't put too much weight on those filthy gossip rags; they're only good for ruining lives.

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 15th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

How very mysterious! Definitely something strange about the fog. And I don't know if my sisters do or not nor do I concern myself much with it. They're entitled to their own hobbies and such.

How is the malaria now? Any sign of it clearing up? Have you heard any news about how the rest of the expedition has gone?

Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 16th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

Regarding the malaria, let's just say I'm not sure magical people are well-adept at handling it at the current situation. It checks off all the boxes: rare, mundane, foreign, and they have no magic to cure it with. My body has proven ever-resilient—so much so that it's almost annoying. If the disease is going to linger without cure, I would much rather suffer a quick and painless death, wouldn't you? I'm getting restless but they won't let me leave.

Regarding the expedition, we've seen an odd lack of people in the infirmary since the second day. It's as if the lot has vanished—hopefully the fog-warp hasn't sucked them into oblivion. I liked at least a few of them.

Forever yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 18th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

Your body obviously thinks that you are as much a gift to this world as I do. I am sure they will figure out a solution soon.

I do hope the same but I am not at all ashamed to say that I am glad you are relatively safe. I do not know what I would do were you to disappear without a word. Again. I am sure they will turn up and if they do not, I am sure another expedition will go in to retrieve them. There is nothing much we can do for the moment but hope for their safe return.

Always Yours,
Richard Gladstone

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July 20th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

You're too nice to me after all I've done. I must admit that I had few hopes that you would return my original letter, and even fewer that you would continue with regular correspondence while I'm stuck here. If my letters bother you, please know that you are not at all compelled to return them. I would understand.

It's been two days since I received your letter, and still none from the expedition have appeared. For once I'm glad that I have few friends to worry about; I've lost contact with many of my others since May.

Yours,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 22nd, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I would never leave a letter of yours unanswered. Not only would it be quite rude but I cherish your correspondence. I am not bothered by them at all in the slightest, especially if it is of some help for you to pass the time. I know quite well that being an in-patient can be quite the bore!

I am saddened to hear that you have lost contact with your friends. Rest assured, that I am one friend that you need never worry about when it comes to losing contact if you do not wish it to be so. Even so, it is quite worrying that they have not yet returned.

All my love,
Richard Gladstone

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July 24th, 1888

Dear Mr. Gladstone,

It is a sentiment I've expressed before and must express again: I do not deserve your friendship, less so now than I ever have. It has one I have held dear since the day we've met, but it is one that I've been so selfish to hold onto in the wake of my social ruin. Though I long to resume our friendship outside or writing, I know - and I'm sure you do, too - that it cannot be done. What sort of friend would I be if I allowed you to be seen with a woman that society assumes to be no better than a street-dwelling harlot, even if she is me?

Affectionately,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 26th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

You are correct in saying that I am aware that society would likely put a mark upon me for continuing our friendship. Especially, in the manner that I have. It can be no secret to you by now that I adore you most ardently. I put you above all others and I cannot stop the fact that I feel this way. The sun, the stars, the moon - in them I see you.

I see the real you. Not the version of you that society has decided you to be. My life would be very poor without your presence even should that presence be solely through writing.

All my love,
Richard Gladstone

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