Letter to Lily Evans, August 12th, 1997
Dearest Lilyflower,
Only nineteen days until I see you again, my dear one! Oh, how my heart longs for you, my sweet, my fair, my breathtaking Lilykins! I am near to tears (but not really, because I'm much too manly) because you haven't responded to any of my letters!
Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please write me back?
Love and adoration and worship,
James Ignotus Potter
Letter to Marlene Mckinnon, August 15th, 1997
Marlene –
I'm going to kill Potter. I swear I'll kill him with my bare hands. Do you know what he did?
Never mind. I'm sure that idiot you call your boyfriend has already told you.
Petunia's engaged, did you know? To Dursley. He looks like a whale and has an awful scraggly growth on his upper lip. Petunia absolutely worships the ground he walks on, and she's been awful.
I hate this. I want (dare I say it?) to go back to school.
Yes, go ahead, laugh, call me a workaholic or a nerd or whatever. I hate summer.
Love and hugs,
-Lily
Letter to Lily Evans, August 21st, 1997
Dearest Flower,
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
That means yes, Sirius told me what James did.
You're so touchy, Lils. I think it's kind of cute. Pathetic, sure, but cute.
I mean, the boy is so infatuated that he actually comes to your house and serenades you? It would have been really sweet if he hadn't gotten the wrong room – and if Petunia hadn't called the police.
HAHAHAHAHA! Sorry. It's just so funny!
Yes, it is. No, don't make a frownyface. Even you kind of wanted to laugh, admit it.
Ah, Lily, dear, I know you too well.
I have to go. There's naked boy candy waiting for me in the other room, as well as coffee and a cigarette. (Did I mention that your owl wakes people up entirely too early?) And don't you make that disapproving face at me. A girl's got needs. Cigarettes are really the least of our worries right now, don't you think?
Love you, girl.
Xoxo, Marlene
Letter to Marlene Mckinnon, August 23rd, 1997
It wasn't funny. He knows where I live! How creepy can he get?
Excuse me, by the way, while I go pour bleach in my brain and burn out my eyes after that horrifying image of Black naked. Especially given that you referred to him as "boy candy."
I need some saner friends. Seriously. (Don't you dare make a pun out of that, Mckinnon.)
I have to go help mum get dinner on. Tell Black I said to put some clothes on and stop grinning like that.
Love.
Letter to James Potter, August 25th, 1997
Potter,
Bugger off and stop writing me.
-Lily