Dearest Diary,
I am quite pleased to announce that no harm was done to my estate, and my loyal hound managed to escape unscathed by the events which were to unfold before I and my phaeton returned home. As my ponies slowed to a halt, we passed a coach of gentlemen who appeared to be part of some kind of fire brigade. The grounds which lie adjacent to our own had been very badly burned and had it not been for the quick thinking of a nearby resident and some extra water buckets, the flames might have also engulfed the house and left the fate of Lady Pigeon in the balance. Thankfully, all remain as I had left them in the morning.
The fact of my being in ill health, or the events described above have not diminished my regard for the day, however. For I exchanged delightful messages with a friend as we schemed and chuckled over the rumoured sightings of Mr. Voldemort. Are you privy to the identity of such a gentleman, Diary? But do not count on me for such an identity to be ascertained. I will not admit to it.
As for tomorrow, well let's be on with it...
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