The Dungeons

Dear Draco,

Neither of us is a believer in the dark arts of psychoanalysis. But I do wonder if now is not the time for you to convert. Rather than spend an ecstatic amount of time, money and energy on parental rights terminating pursuits, it might be more salubrious for you to expend them on a few sessions with a psychiatrist (Dr. Weltschmerz is a pioneer in the relatively uncharted field of wizard psychology). If for no reason other than to prevent Miss Weasley's picture from appearing in an entry on "Father Issues" in some diagnostic manual.

At any rate, you are a man who could do with some distraction in the form of light entertainment. Let me take you out tonight for dinner and a show.

Love,
Blaise

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The owl carries a ticket.

Dearest Blaise,

A wonderful idea. At least dinner and a play is a wonderful idea. But I do not need an analyst because I have Vega to tell me when I am making the right choice and when I am not. She is petulant for days when according to her cosmic compass I am doing the wrong thing. And she seems very happy to endorse the idea of Oedipus and a dinner. However, I shall need to negotiate a few things here at home. "Dinner tonight" is not such an easy thing for me to say yes to as some part of me might like. I will send an owl later to confirm or reschedule but I am hopeful that it might be arranged as Vega came while I was writing my reply and seemed quite happy to bring it to you.

Love,
Draco

It isn't snowing? Why is it not snowing? IT WAS SUPPOSED TO SNOW!

Well, ne'ermind. We can still have an ARCTIC EXPEDITION! I put sled runners on the Wortlet's little sailboat pirate ship, so I just had to add a Slickersledder spell. Lack of snow cannot defeat true explorers! HA! And now Intrepid Captain Wort of the Arctic and Friendly Esquimo Guide Moony are off to the North Pole, led by Faithful Sled Dog Snuffles.

All right, not really the North Pole, more like the hill north of Hogsmeade. But it's still an expedition! We are thoroughly provisioned with hot tea, hot cocoa, hot butterbeer, hot pasties and hot bacon butties. Captain Wort has assured me that it will be WEEKS before she and Esquimo Moony are starved enough to be forced to eat Sled Dog Snuffles.

Esquimo Moony has already had a glass of cold water down the back of his neck for even suggesting that Sled Dog Snuffles might be eaten sooner rather than later. Dirty bugger! HA!

WHO'S WITH US? Friendly natives? HOSTILE natives? Polar bears? Stranded whalers? (ALL ARE WELCOME! )

Expect me quite soon after this note. And I am looking forward to being pampered, Blaise, so I do hope the reservations are as good as my clothes.

D

Careful, Lily-girl. ( Don't fall on the andirons. )

Hey. ( How was the play? )