Dear Millicent
- Millicent
Dear Millicent,
My mother and I have always had a complicated relationship with each other, and whilst we tend to get along just fine with letters back and forth, going back home for the holidays always ruins whatever image we've built in our heads of us having a 'healthy family dynamic'. How do I skip out of my holiday obligations this year? She's also been getting pushier about writing more often to her and it's bugging me, I feel things changing between us and just want to be left alone sometimes. Is that too much to ask for?
Independent Gal
Tell her you've found yourself a rich, devilish boyfriend and will be spending the season skipping under mistletoes with him. It'll either make her angry enough about being abandoned at Yule by her own child for a fleeting infatuation, or prompt her to start frantically drawing up courtship preparations. However she reacts, it should buy you some alone time. If you don't want to be wasting your time writing letters, well, maybe your new love Bardon can take the fall for that too. Boyfriends can take the blame for a lot - you'd be surprised... Just don't go overboard with the details, and know it won't hold up forever.
Dear Millicent,
Holidays truly serve as prison sentences, constantly featuring things like locking myself in my cramped bedroom before my several siblings can get me into trouble and have me sent to the roof to lather up the cracks as punishment. Our rented lodgings in the Wizarding boroughs hardly make for a Winter Wonderland, languishing around the shadowy profile of miserable old Walsall. It's no home at all, really. What can I do to make our lives nicer? I miss our old manor!
Brokenhearted
Not a distant relative of a Weasley by any chance, hm? Heh. Right after you get your blood checked out and search for any glass slippers in your wardrobe, I suggest seeing if the new inhabitants of your manor would take bribery or some of your siblings in return for giving back your old home. I don't know what housing costs in the Wizarding economy at the moment, but it shouldn't be too expensive.
If you can't scrounge up enough funds, well, maybe check under Malfoy's bed for stray piles of Galleons or shake some 1st years for loose change. And if you still don't have enough money after all that, maybe you should simply use your wand and sprinkle about some fairy lights, conjure a a sconce or two, Transfigure whatever rats there are scurrying about into cosy rugs, or better yet, enlarge them and tuck them into your housemates' pillows - are you a witch or aren't you, huh? Get resourceful.
Dear Millicent,
Okay, gosh, where do I begin? So, my dad's just left Mummy a few weeks ago for the fiftieth time this year - I'm not sure why, she didn't exactly tell me much in her letter, which means it was probably her fault. I really don't want to be alone with her this year and waste my hols serving as her therapist or her cuddling pillow as it's all awfully draining and boring, dredging up memories from the past literally everybody but herself has moved on from. I feel like a good merry recipe for the season will be enough for a cathartic - and distant! - contribution from me (she's a total foodie). Judging from all the times I've caught you skulking into the Kitchens, you'd know a good few. (Give the house-elves a break sometime!) Help, please?
Hopeless Slytherin
Matter of fact, I do possess enough culinary knowledge that I could whip up spreads for Yule more exquisite than what most of the elite amongst us have had the opportunity to sample. Not to brag, but my winter beef casserole served as my Great Aunt Hertha's requested final meal. I'm not giving it to you for free though. You can find an adequate cookbook authored by Bancott Carling in Edwin's Bookshop next time you stop by Hogsmeade.
I suggest visiting your mother anyway and making cooking a bonding enterprise between the two of you. Shoving food in her mouth can keep her quiet and win you her favour. I normally would advocate for cutting people who exist solely as baggage out from your life but I think your mother could use the company this year. Just make sure you keep your wand handy and hide all the knives before you start.
Oh, and don't ever dare tell me what to do.
That's all for today. My fingers are cramping up. See you all after Yule and don't murder your families over the holidays, alright? Or do. It's none of my business. Till next time, vipers.
