Rodolphus Lestrange

- Interesting range of notifications in the owl post today. Invitation to a private auction in Grimsby this Friday. Historians have long debated the existence of a Grimsby Castle (or Grimesbi, as it is noted on 12th century maps), some claiming that one was planned but never actually built, others holding that the castle was built but promptly destroyed by rampaging muggle armies. Neither party was correct. The castle was in fact hidden for all these long centuries, first using a series of Fidelius charms. As the secret-keepers apparently thinned out, or failed to keep the secret, the castle stewards switched over to using disillusionment charms. In these last five years, the castle's last remaining steward, a man by the name of Bradley, either became forgetful or incompetent at charm-casting. On moon-lit nights the castle would appear on the hillside as an ominous, craggy hulk, then be vanished by morning. The superstitious Grimbarians began to suspect that the castle was itself a type of Grim, a ghostly ill-omen from Odin himself.* Rather than venturing closer to the castle to explore, they kept their distance. At least until this weekend, when Mr Bradley succumbed to death at the age of 154, leaving the castle exposed for all to see. The property title reverted to the town, who foolishly want nothing to do with it. Thus, an auction for the castle itself, as well as all the treasures contained within.

- Mrs Baylock on leave to visit her sister in Cumbria, which leaves Rigel in the company of elves and myself. Mrs Baylock always visits her sister at her birthday, but appeared loathe to take leave of her small charge last night. It is heartening to know that she and Rigel are so thoroughly bonded, but had to become rather insistent that the woman take her holiday as planned. Rigel fussed a great deal but has since forgotten, attention back on his toys.

- Speaking of. - Narcissa, it's been some time since you saw your young nephew. Can I tempt you over for supper tonight at St. James?




* I should note here that the Grimbarians are of Danish descent, and that in Norse mythology the word "Grim," meaning mask, is a name adopted by the deity Odin [Woden].

- Quite the rabble. First curious news is that of Amycus Carrow's arrest. News is incomplete on my end, since the Missus has been indisposed of late - on missions of which I dare not breathe a word - but if I am understanding, the thought here is that Carrow went so far as to render his own mudblood, and others', as completely un-usable? I do find that logic hard to follow. Say what you will, but the man has dedicated much time to discovering an array of uses for that end of the populace.

- Head Girl Sandoval: I have completed my analysis of Item #702, also known as your earrings. With Owls back in the air I will have the official report off soon, but as it's very official indeed, allow me to translate by telling you here that your earrings were adorned by a male who injested polyjuice potion in order to transform himself into a female: into you, specifically. I shall leave it to you to speculate on who would want to do such a thing, and why. The earrings are now perfectly safe to wear, however, and very pretty baubles they are.

- Duckie, you should have got an Owl by now. Make sure that the surprise I tucked into the envelope lasts a few days, but know that there's more where that came from. As soon as we're allowed to send parcels you'll get a load of sweets to rival that of the hamper your Auntie Narcissa sends to Draco. That way, he won't have to worry about you nicking all the nicest things to satisfy your sugar tooth.

- Boys still get up to as much trouble as ever, I see. Is this what I have to look forward to when my youngest is near to thirteen? I suppose so. Best to have a stiff drink now.