Letters of September 1976

Hi Peter!

We promised we would tell you all about the first day, so here it comes.

We were in the train and James challenged Sirius to put as many Bertie Bott's beans in his mouth as he could. Result: he started choking and James was laughing so hard that he couldn't do any magic, and I didn't know which spell to use, so a 7th year Hufflepuff guy had to smash his stomach several times. Sirius was so grateful that he gave him the Bertie Bott's bean he choked on for him to keep as a fond memory. The Hufflepuff guy threw it away first chance he got, of course.

I didn't pay much attention to the sorting to be honest because Sirius kept saying that he felt he still had a bean inside one of his lungs. He is still saying it now, actually. Since James and I have started ignoring him, he has left to wander around the tower and tell other people. I've heard someone scream so that can't end well.

The feast was great, as usual. There was some new peach cake which I'm sure you would have loved. James and Sirius managed not to get detention on their first day, which as McGonagall pointed out has not happened since their first year. They are heartbroken about it, of course.

Do you know when you'll be coming? I really would like to have you here to put some sense into them and tell them that as a prefect I cannot give them the key to the dungeons to play pranks on Slytherins.

Moony

Pete,

Please explain to me why you're not here yet. I fail to understand that. Moony keeps making all these excuses for not helping us in our plans, like "it's too dangerous" or "I'm a prefect" or "that can actually kill someone, James". Blah blah blah. WE NEED YOU TO CONVINCE HIM, PETE. You're ace at that. Please.

The first day was fun, except Sirius and I didn't get detention this year as is customary, which was very disappointing to us as well as to Minnie. Seriously, you should have seen her face when she told us, I swear she had teary eyes. I think that she's secretly proud of our achievements, even though she will NEVER admit it. Tough nut, that McGonagall.

We have a new captain of the Quidditch team. It's Kingsley Shacklebolt and I'm not sure I like the change. He seems more competent than Steve, which to be honest is not like super hard. But he has told me that if I manage to get my Quidditch rights suspended like last year he will take his bat and beat me up to death with it, so there's that. He didn't seem to be joking.

Lily is even more beautiful and scarier than last year. I didn't think that was actually possible, but there you are. She hasn't punched me yet though, which is a great success. She ALMOST did it when I enchanted her quill to fight against Alice's in an awesome and flourishing duel in the library, but she took a very deep breath, told me to fuck off, and left. That girl is learning some pretty impressive anger management.

Full moon is in two weeks and we need you to poke the knot, so I really hope you've come by then or we will have to go there and drag you by your beautiful straw-coloured hair. I don't think your mum would like that a lot, would she?

I have to run now because we have Potions and also Sirius is panicking again about his lung (I'm sure he'll tell you all about it so there's no point in wasting ink on that).

COME BACK PLEASE,

Prongs

Dear Wormtail,

I regret to inform you that by the time you have come back to Hogwarts I will be (violins playing) dead.

It sucks, I know. But I'm sure it will console you to know that it actually sucks more for me. Or maybe it doesn't, because I won't be feeling a damn thing will I? The cause of death will be a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean, which really is ironic because it's definitely my favourite sweet in the whole world and I would prefer dying than not tasting another (good) one again. The problem is that it's not where it should be, i.e. my stomach/intestine, but in my lung. I'm sure Remus and James have already told you all about it, so I won't bother you with the gruesome details.

I will only tell you that you have been a great comrade and partner in crime and that I will think of you when drawing my last breath, if only as my Bertie Bott's beans lender (you're the only person I know who keeps sweets on him at all times, and for that I admire you, brother).

Before you ask, I have actually gone to the infirmary. Poppy checked me up and told me I would, and I quote, "live to astonish us for many more years". I don't know what she means with that, but I'm sensing that she doesn't take my fatal condition very SERIOUSLY (hah! I can make puns even when I'm at Death's door). Neither do Moony and Prongs and the rest of the bloody castle for that matter. Not even good old McGoggles paid me any attention when I asked her to fulfil my dying wish of getting to kiss her strawberry-red lips at least once. I think I'm just going to say my goodbyes in silence and leave with the last shreds of honour that I've got left.

Please make a great funeral for me. Don't invite my mother but make sure that Madame Rosmerta is there and she brings firewhisky to pour it over my coffin.

I salute you,

Padfoot

PS: Pete, this is James. Before you worry about Sirius, you should know that last night we fled from Filch on a frantic race from the dungeons all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, as in ACTUALLY RUNNING UP HUNDREDS IF NOT THOUSANDS OF STAIRS, and when we stopped Sirius didn't seem even a bit flustered. I'm no doctor, but I would say his lung is perfectly fine.

Oh Merlin, is he still talking about his bloody lung?

YES. Can I puncture it to give him a good reason to cry?

You know how much I would like to say yes, but no.

STOP HACKING MY LETTER!