Just reposting this from my old account.

Blanket disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. Since, obviously, you people wouldn't know that. Because J.K. would OBVIOUSLY have a small unpopular account on .

Dear Rose,

I am glad to say that my summer vacation is well underway. It is much quieter in my home life away from Hogwarts without you screaming and throwing hexes at me. I have even found myself missing the pastries you enjoy throwing at my head during breakfast. I shall try to follow your advice… what was it? "Don't let all of that rich pureblood cutlery that seems to be permanently implanted in your ass seep into your writing."

I assure you, my demeanour is entirely hereditary. Anyway, you asked me to keep up the correspondence up this summer. I am afraid that there is a slight chance my mother might read your or my letters without our realization. You have been warned. Home is… the same as usual. It's quiet, and I have no doubt you would call it cold. But I am accustomed to it.

I have spent my time studying and failing to improve my Quidditch. I have no doubt that you and the rest of the Hufflepuff team will defeat the Slytherins (ha ha ha), but a boy can dream. I am afraid that I must decline your request for a visit, as everyone in both our families (other than us, it seems, and Albus) is painfully aware of my lineage and house placement. In fact, I am rather shocked that you have come past all of that. Especially considering the small battles you and Thomas Lestrange always seem to be engaged in.

Anyway, Always wishing you well,

Scorpius Narcissus Malfoy.

Dearest Scorpius and his eavesdropping mother,

Oh, come off your high horse. Just because you're anal-retentive doesn't mean you have to write like that. And the screaming/hex-throwing thing is just when you are equally angry and bellowing your lungs off. And pastries just look SO FUNNY when you put them in thin blond hair.

Oh, and to your mother? If she's reading, she should know how much good all those elocution classes went to on you. I swear, half the time you talk to me (excluding Screaming/hex-throwing/pastry-chucking times) you're all pink and stuttering. And your house is FRIGID. You do have to come and stay. Mum is fine with you coming, and Hugo just has an empty space in exchange for a brain. Sure, he goes on and on and on and ON about his grades. But he doesn't even like Quidditch. Also, the Slytherin-hating is hereditary. My sense of pity for lost causes just overcomes instinct.

Sure, I hate good ol' Tom Lestrange. If you called me half the names he did, you'd have a lot more than forks in certain areas. And shut up about the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. I'm Captain this year and we'll kick your pale silverware-filled arses. By the way, don't expect anything other than one-paragraph note once a month from Albus. He's not really up to letter writing. I need to get him a computer.

Anyways, I do miss you too. Plus, I told Hugo off for saying you shouldn't come. In my usual way. You should have seen his face. In fact, I'll send you a picture. I have been practicing my Keeping, and I have the rest of my cousins to play against when I need to practice. You have an elderly house elf. By the way, I bet your family is mean to your house elf. Go down to wherever that elf lives and give them a big hug. Go on. My letter can wait while you hug your neglected house-elf.

Love,

Rose

P. S. Scorpius, Hugo wants you to know that your next make-out session is scheduled for next Friday.

P. P. S. I bet you just turned pink and started stuttering after reading that last bit. You owe me a galleon.

P. P. P. S. And to your dearest mother, the first part WASN'T a joke. They're planning on a June wedding.

P. P. P. P. S. And Scorp, you're turning red. You owe me two galleons.

P. P. P. P. P. S. Hugo's reading over my shoulder and turning increasingly closer to burgundy. Your boyfriend is beating you out for facial colouring.

I wish you to know, Malfoy, I have positively no interest in you

Right, now that I've got my quill and parchment back from my thieving brother, write me back soon.

Scorpius's mother was very offended over Rose's letter, though she tried not to show it. And Scorpius was suddenly known to burst into fits of laughter at random times. It should be noted that he would write several drafts of any letter before sending it to Rose. He also kept every letter she'd ever sent him in a box under his bed.