OWL & RP: Miles to Bellatrix Lestrange. Help me save my wife. Er, Please. Date: 11 March 2006 Characters: Miles, Bellatrix, Daphne (Liam & Seamus in the background) Location: Bletchley Manor, Upper Slaughter Private/Public: Private Rating: PG Warnings: - Summary: Daphne isn't getting any better, and goes to the only place left for help. Upper Slaughter.
Miles was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. It had been more than a week now, and Daphne just wasn't getting any better. She wasn't actually getting any worse, but Miles knew that the only thing worse than this was something he didn't really want to contemplate.
Liam had begun to be a handful - he wanted to play with Daphne, and couldn't understand why she wasn't well enough to play with him. Being away from all his friends was hard as well, and even the fact that Nigel seemed to be almost completely better just didn't help. He was literally climbing the walls and Miles was close to his own breaking point.
By sheer chance, Finnigan came to deliver new bills that needed paying, and deliver the takings (which were pitiful). With half of Hogsmeade down sick, he again pondered the wisdom of keeping the pub open. As he signed off a few bills, handing them back to Finnigan, the Irishman played with Liam for a while. It seemed to settle the boy and for that Miles was at least grateful.
But Daphne's plight now played on his mind. Goldstein couldn't do any more for her - they were no closer to getting an answer. He'd been mulling over one thing, and now with no other avenue, he truly had to consider it. Bellatrix had taken a shine to Daphne when he mentioned his wedding, so perhaps she would be inclined to help - if she could.
He heard Daphne's ragged breathing, and it was the only thing that spurred him on to write the owl. Even if it took a few attempts, he finally was satisfied with the outcome, sending it off anxiously and hoping to Merlin that she would reply.
Bellatrix,
I beseech your help in a most urgent matter. I know it is presumptuous of me to ask, but I have nobody else to turn to. I am afraid that my wife, Daphne Greengrass has become exceedingly ill with whatever plague has struck Hogsmeade.
I know that you have the finest family healers, and I was hoping that since you were so looking forward to meeting, and working with my wife, you could see your way to allowing me to have access to them, and their skills.
I am willing and able to come to Upper Slaughter at your earliest convenience, if it pleases you.