The note was hastily scrawled, a sharp contrast to Ida’s typical neat penmanship. The paper was slightly crumpled, as though it’d be shoved in and out of pockets several times.
12th of July, 1892
Dearest Beryl,
I have a massive and strange favor to ask of you. It requires the utmost discretion, and you may be the only person I trust who is capable to execute what must be done. Could you happen to be in Hogsmeade later this afternoon into the evening? Do you have the mirror with you? As you may know, I am trapped in Irvingly with no way to go in or out.
It might be better to speak directly if we can, but for now I’ll preface this: I’ve come across a willing subject for my Transfiguration research, with the opportunity to test a major philosophical theory on a wizard's magical composition.
Also - are you allergic to dogs?
Sincerely yours,
Ida
Ida
stefanie made this beautiful set <3