Warded Xenia
I grow so tired of this school, dearest cousin. I have just had the most frightful encounter with Professor Smethwyck. I do not recall him having such a vile temper when asked for assistance in the past. Perhaps he has lost someone in the recent attack on London and I ought to be more charitable. However, I find it quite difficult to be so when the barest traces of civility are absent a conversation.
Daddy said that Mother owled him, finally, thank Merlin, but still I may not send her an owl. I understand that I must be an adult about the situation and tiresome, childish owls are a burden, but sometimes I just want to scream instead! I should like to do as I please.
Do you think we might go work in the garden tomorrow morning? Perhaps a little sleep shall clear me of this dreadful mood.