Dear Padfoot
It was a boring day today, I didn't get to see you much. I started the day getting sick, going to the hospital wing and dreading tomorrow nights full moon.
While on the way down to the hospital wing I accidentally threw up on the stairs that Filch has literally just finished cleaning while he stood there watching me, mop in hand, ready to kill me. Luckily McGonagall came before he could strangle me though. We really need to start planning out that huge prank on Filch soon.
(I've officially become so bored I've started studying Ancient Ruins by the way)
Madame Pomfrey just gave me some disgusting strange medicine, which oddly tastes a lot like your homemade Firewhiskey (that was one hell of a night I never want to experience again).
Remember that night when Prongs got so drunk he turned into a stag and couldn't change back and we ended up chasing him around the Great Hall at 4 in the morning?
Speaking of which here's Prongs now, carrying 5 Chocolate Frogs in each hand, bless him.
You better come visit me you git,
Moony.