July 08th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

It's been quite a time since we've spoken—nearly three months!—and I'm writing to inform you that I'm still very much alive and currently under the same roof as you. It seems the expedition was unkind to both of us, though I must admit I know little about your specific injuries.

Since my departure from St. Mungo's I've been working with with dragons (Merlin help me!) with Malcolm MacFusty in the Hebrides. I've heard through the gossip mill that some of the patients here have had ill-fated encounters with creatures, both magical and mundane, and was wondering if you fell into that category.

I'm a research assistant, you see—not entirely useless even if I'm a menace to society!

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

Fletcher Langley

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 8th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I'll be honest in saying I was surprised to receive your letter. I had hoped you were well but I almost must admit I'm not surprised you joined the expedition. You never really were one to sit idly by, after all.

I am surprised, however, to hear that you've begun working with Mr. Macfusty. Dragons hardly seems like something you'd want to be around, especially considering.. Well nevermind.

And unfortunately, I must disappoint. No creatures of any sort were seen by me. A broken ankle saw me transported to the infirmary but not before being pelted with hail the size of snitches and burning rain.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 09th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

My options were either work as a dragon research assistant or - perish, I assume. My name is one widely-known in gossip circles, which much to my dismay makes finding a respectable occupation nearly impossible.

The MacFusty clan may not be blood, but they've treated me with the empathy my own blood never did. I suppose that counts for something, right? If you hear of anyone who's suffered creature-related illnesses in the fog, please let me know or direct them to me! I'm determined to make some good out of this; I'm done wallowing in my sorrows while I wait for good fortune to find me.

How have you been? Your family? Your friends? The hospital?

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 9th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I hardly believe that. You have some medical training, Miss Scrimgeour. I'm sure even those here at the infirmary wouldn't have turned you away if you'd asked for a job here. You could have surely been a nurse. A far more safe position than that of dealing with dragons. However, so long as you're settled and doing well that is all that matters. I am quite glad to hear that you may have found a family despite the situation. It sounds as though they're a better option than what your alternative had been at the very least.

And I have been well other than decided to join this fool's mission. Seems as if my time may have been better spent at the hospital. I'll likely have a crutch for a time. I just hope it won't be much of a hindrance when I am able to return to London. My sister lives here in Irvingly though and she was made aware of my injury and has been by frequently now.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 10th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

I'm afraid my options on the medical front are sorely limited. Mr. Jameshill denied me any reference when I was discharged from my internship, so it's as those ten months of my life never existed. I'm sure I will recover; if my situation hasn't led to my demise yet, I hardly believe it will as it continues to improve.

I'm sure the department can make some accommodations. Mr. Yaxley was in my group on the expedition, but I must admit he was not very friendly to me—not that he ever was.

Make him do all the hard work; the stuffy prat needs his robes wrinkled every now and then!

It's in a sister's nature to worry about her brother. I certainly worry about mine, even if I've technically been disavowed by the Scrimgeour family. I've considered changing my name, but what would be the point? My face is horribly recognizable. I'm sure they'd continue to call me "The Unfortunate Miss Scrimgeour" even if I did marry.

How did you break your ankle?

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 10th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I don't imagine they'd be overly stuffy here at the infirmary. My mother assists from time to time. Should you decide to delve back into the medical world, let me know. I'll see what I can do. I'm sure my mother would gladly help.

And all you need to do is prove you're better than all they've made you out to be. Your choices over the course of the past few months may not have been the most intelligent but that isn't to say you aren't an intelligent girl, Miss Scrimgeour. Your circumstances were far from ideal, after all. I'm sure you'll make due. If nothing else, you're knack for preservation far exceeds most anyone I do know.

And a fall gone wrong seems to have been my mistake. Not that it truly matters. It quite effectively saw my grand adventure cut short quite quickly.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 11th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

I hardly consider it a choice to have one's father assault them and then be tossed in jail, wouldn't you agree? Not that I believe you meant that at all—society loves to play the game of victim-blaming.

Truth be told, I'm not sure I could return to the medical field. The people at St. Mungo's became my family away from home; trying to make a career anywhere else feels wrong. I have very little training in ways of Care of Magical Creatures, but the MacFusty family gives more than enough in the way of hands-on experience.

A fall gone wrong? Even I have enough grace not to break my ankle with a fall! I'm highly disappointed in you, Mr. Langley! (I'm teasing, of course! I hope you feel better.)

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 11th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I must apologize. I did not mean that to be a choice you made. Quite the opposite in that case. No father should ever do as yours did. But you did make choices prior that were not in your best interest though certainly none, that I feel, warrant what was done to you. But what is life without some wrong decisions to learn from? Surely you've learned from all you've been through whether the choice was yours or not. I do hope the best for you, regardless.

And if you've taken an interest in your new work, that is all that matters. So long as you have something to do with your time as well as a chance of surviving without perishing on the streets, you're doing well. But the offer still stands. Should you ever need some assistance I will do what I can to help.

Yes, well, it was quite dark. I've also seemed to injury my shoulder after being pelted with hail that was far larger than the norm. My balance was clearly not where it should have been.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 11th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

Mistakes are one thing—the word insinuates that they can be forgiven in time, yet I'm confident those around me will continue to remind me of my sins for the rest of my life. My journey is not to make amends for my wrongdoings, but to learn to live with them. Society is not very forgiving to women who make fools of themselves.

Your offer remains in my mind, though I hope it's not one I'll have to take advantage of. For too long I've survived off the generosity of others; no longer do I wish to be a charity case.

Aren't you aware that I placed a curse upon St. Mungo's before I was oh-so-unfairly terminated? I cursed all its employees—healers, healers-in-charge, and maintenance included!—with my gracelessness. (I'm kidding.)

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 12th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I'm sorry if I've offended you. I didn't mean to.

And as far as I'm aware, I'm the only one to have suffered for being less than graceful. Though, I'm unsure if any gentleman really wants to be viewed as such? Regardless, are you sure your curse wasn't directed at me solely?

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 12th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

Do not fret; my bitterness is not directed towards you. Change is rarely easy for anyone to stomach, especially change as radical as a shift from wealth to poverty. I cannot express through writing how grateful I am that you still treat me as another person when so many do not—even if our contact is limited.

I don't believe anyone wishes to be seen as graceless; it's unbecoming of any man or woman alike. Surely your accident was caused by factors other than a simple lack of balance?

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 13th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

Well I don't see why I'd treat you any differently. Unless, of course, you've turned into that of a creature and I'm unaware. If so, you've got rather good handwriting for that of an animal.

And there certainly was. Pure darkness and a sudden ditch. It was quite the adventure. One I'd really rather not repeat.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

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   Bella Scrimgeour

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 14th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

I waited the entire day to be turned into some sort of creature by mistake, because it would be just in my luck to suffer that sort of irony. Alas, I woke up very human indeed and with no paws of any sort.

You could write a book: "The Ditch That Broke My Ankle (& Other Haunting Tales From the Expedition)"?

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 15th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

After that quip, I may turn you to a creature myself..

How's the malaria?

Sincerely,
Fletcher

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   Edric Umbridge

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BEE-utiful Set!

July 16th, 1888

Mr. Langley,

I'm only teasing you, Mr. Langley; I'm sure you could come up with a far wittier book title than I. If you need any more assistance, I may have a few alternative titles that may work, too!

The malaria's getting better. I'm fairly sure I will not perish from it now, but that makes me no less miserable. I'm near certain that my boggart will now take the form of a hospital bed.

Sincerely,
Bella Scrimgeour

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

July 17th, 1888

Miss Scrimgeour,

I believe I'll leave the writing of books to others. Once I'm out of this awful infirmary, I'll be quite content with simply getting back to my work at the hospital. I just hope this damned ankle doesn't keep me laid up for too long.

Glad to hear the malaria is getting better though I feel I can commiserate on the boggart front. Mine will be accompanied by a stern and portly nurse constantly shoving a crutch under my nose.

Sincerely,
Fletcher

  

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BEE-utiful Set!