Dear Malfoy (and Al, I suppose, since you always read his mail),
How are you? I'm lovely, thanks for asking. A bit sloshed, but good all the same. Actually, you might have noticed that I've been a bit tipsy all week, as my witty retorts have been less then, well, witty. I just want you to know, I entirely blame you. Yes, Malfoy, Y-O-U. It is all your fault that I have been consuming large amounts of firewhiskey (lovely stuff, that). Well, no, it really isn't your fault, but I have to blame someone!
Pleasantries and ramblings aside, I hate you. Just wanted to put that out there, in case you're wondering. Which you probably are, since I've never written you before (or had a civil conversation with you, but then again, I'm slightly off my face. Or whatever the saying is). So anyway, I'm writing to you because you are one of the few non-relatives I know. Poor little me, I have no friends (not really, but you're the least likely person to read this and I had to tell somebody). So, first of all, I will rant about you (please take offence).
Ugh! That stupid sodding Malfoy! I wish he would just bugger off and die in a hole! He's such an awful git! I hate him so so so much! Agh! Stupid ferret-faced tosser!
Yes, Malfoy, my rants do sound like that, which is why all my mates have stopped listening to them. Except Al, but really, he's mental.
So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, it is time for my boy talk. Hooray! I'm sure you'll just love this, Malfoy. Tell Al not to beat him up, though, because I really can take care of myself. And the whole "protective cousin thing" is quite annoying.
Although, while we're on the topic of Al, he should really ask Alice Longbottom out. She absolutely drooled over him during Quidditch practice the other day, and I know he likes her. Just pass that message on for me, will you?
So! As I'm sure you've noticed from my crazed blathering letter and the lovely wobble I have been walking with, I am very, very drunk. Ha ha. Don't you dare tell my dad, Al. The reason I am drunk is that I have had an epiphany.
I like a boy. (Yes, Malfoy, I fancy someone. Surprise, surprise!)
But seriously. It is very annoying. He's absolutely amazing. And a bloody oblivious git, sadly enough. Just my luck, sigh. But seriously, he is! He's tall and fit (he plays Quidditch, though not as well as me, ha ha!) and his abs are simply gorgeous. Not that I've looked or anything, just snuck a few peeks and I've seen him shirtless swimming once or twice (Merlin, the water running down his chest…yum, I tell you! I barely stopped myself jumping him.) Oh dear. I'm a right pervert, Malfoy, go ahead and say it.
Moving on.
His hair. Oh, his absolutely wonderful, soft, silky hair (I haven't actually touched it, but Merlin knows I want to).
And he's actually really smart. Or clever, maybe. What's the difference? And even though he doesn't want people to see, he sticks up for first years, stupid bugger. And he pulls pranks just as much as me and Albus (and you too, I suppose, Malfoy). And he's a bit silly sometimes and he loves to laugh and he's not a prefect (nor ever will be, thank Merlin. Stupid goody two shoes Hugo) and even though he can sometimes be a prick (more like all the time), he's abso-bloody-lutely the most amazing bloke I've ever met. I've watched him a lot, have you noticed. Albus caught me staring once; he thought I was staring at you. Ha!
And herein (what a funny word) lies my problem. Even though I want to shove him up against a wall and snog the life out of him (mind out of the gutter, Malfoy!), I really don't want to fancy this bloke. I'm bloody stuck. I mean, I hate the stupid guy. Is this some kind of twisted form of karma for the insults we've exchanged over the years? Or is it the Imperius curse? Or a love potion (really hoping for that one)? As you can probably tell, my life is in shambles. Like him? Hate him? What do I do?
Anyway, Malfoy, knowing you, you have (hopefully), skipped down to the end of this ridiculous letter (which is here) and are now waiting to know the point of me writing you. Basically, Malfoy, if you even read this letter at all (really I'm hoping you didn't, but just say…) then I want your help. You're the king of getting rid of people, how do I get this stupid bloke out of my mind? ('Cause, you know, I think I'm in love with him).
Bloody hell, I've lost it.
~ RW
