Dear Remus,

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. Things have been crazy in this house, currently dubbed "catering service" for more than a couple reasons. You just don't know how hard it has been for me to have more than five minutes for myself, which I now consider a profitable record. But I won't bore you with what has been happening in my life to make it so chaotic – let's just say my sister is engaged to a really fat and obnoxious twerp with a ruffled moustache where fragments of food can often be found stuck to after meals, and that simple fact has clearly been affecting everyone's sense of reality because mum can't stop bouncing about like a hyper crup and dad's been so grumpy lately one would assume he was getting a second protoscopy.

Petunia is so radiant it's obfuscating, but it's not like I appreciate her niceness when she's obviously just trying to convince me to get into that horrendous bright pink dress. It has these fluffy things resembling purple jellyfishes that make you want to squash them with your foot and watch as the guts spread out on the floor.

Merlin's beard, I've actually just recited everything that has been happening to my life lately, haven't I? Well, at least you are now aware of my dreadful condition and my excuse for having been ignoring you for the past few weeks. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me and maybe I can accelerate the process by buying you a grand pistachio, crisped almonds covered ice-cream next time we meet at Fortescue's?

Either way, I have to go now. Must go check on the tarte Tatin that was left in the oven. Give your mum my love and think about my proposal! Let us meet soon.

Your inconsiderate friend, awaiting her redemption

Lily Evans

P.S.: Tell that POOR EXCUSE of a Marauder Potter NOT TO WRITE ME ANYMORE. Not only does he have the ability to drive me up the wall with his daily self-called 'LOVE DECLARATIONS' (all of which are not the littlest bit "ENDEARING", no matter what mum says!) but also last time his Tengmalm's owl had the misfortune to run into Petunia, she threw the clicker at the ceiling and smashed my parents' favourite chandelier (Petunia, not the owl). Just so he knows, because I am most definitely NOT speaking to him, I'm sending the bill to his house since he's an unsupportable, overly annoying and insistent GIT.

Gwenllian is fine, though.

Dear Wormtail,

I hope you're doing well at your great-aunt's house. I heard she's a right spanner. Give her my most bashful regards and also, don't hesitate to owl me if you find that she needs urgent fixing. I suspect I still have darling aunt Elladora's guillotine stored somewhere. I don't know if we can fit your kinswoman's neck in it, but we can always chop one of her toes at a time.

I cannot be sure if the wrapper I'm attaching to this letter gets to you in one piece but if you're not able to identify it, it's your set of gobstones. You know, the one you forgot in my trunk when you stuffed it there for fear of McKinnon making fun of your neon green gob reading REAL MEN WEAR PINK? For the first time in your life, mate, you seem to have made a wise choice. That thing is absolutely hideous.

Prongs is out of town right now (he and his parents are visiting some old, ruddy relative somewhere in Éire land) so I'm the one doing the honours and inviting you over to his house this weekend. A little Marauders' bounding time, so to speak. So don't even think of using your second cousin's cremation as an excuse to skive off again or you're a plonker.

The one and only

Padfoot

P.S.: WWN has just announced a stormy weather for tonight. All I can say is: tough luck, old chum, your set is a goner. Oh, and tune in 702.3 ZM – Flea Garden's rockin' OUT!

"'Cause you're my green-eyed witch, flashing dragonfly wings, oh yeah..."

Dear Lily,

Hi there! I hope you're still awake at this hour (although I'm not quite sure of the time differences). I was just so excited I couldn't help but write to you. I miss you so much! I was going to call to your house, but then I remembered I didn't know how to operate a pheletone.. Or whatever it is called. So I owled Ray Ray and she explained it all to me but I didn't get anything.

Kyoto is fantastic! We just came from our tour round the city where we went shopping and sightseeing – gorgeous stuff they have here and best of all, so many shops! I just hope to have bought enough souvenirs. Although from Dad's face I can safely assume I did.

We went to this groovy restaurant where I ate raw fish and seaweed. Really. I have to say, it tasted kind of funny but everything else was too great for me to even attempt to sulk and demand for some lasagna. So you should be proud of me! My taste buds are complaining as we speak. As are my intestines...

Japanese people are brilliant, by the way. Eccentric and a little cuckoo, of course, but that is no surprise. They somewhat remind me of Dumbledore (speaking of which, reckon he fancies paper umbrellas?), only without the ancient look. They also take their shoes off all the time. It's freakish.

But on the other hand they're extremely polite. Some of the customers in the restaurant we went to were simply scandalized when Deneb burped at the table and even more when daddy had to blow his nose (it had been pouring down since morning and he was the only one without a cagoule. Mum always said he was a bit of a nesh). Good thing we left before Pollux and Castor could start their infamous turkey rice purées fights.

I'm feeling rather drowsy right now so I better get to bed. Many apologies if I incidentally forced you out of yours.

Your favourite ecstatic little kit

Eithne

P.S.: Bev was out slaughtering innocent rodents somewhere so I used this scops owl. It can be quite vicious when it puts its mind to it (I have the irrefutable evidence stamped on the tip of my nose), so you may want to have sharp secateurs at hand, just in case.

Not that I used them or anything.

Dear Prongs,

Greetings from Glasgow! How is the weather in Belfast? I was told you were staying there with some relatives of yours for a couple of days. And yes, this was as accurate as Padfoot could get with me. Hopefully, you will enlighten me further in your response to this letter.

Dad and I have been travelling round the Highlands for two weeks now. I must say, his job at the Ministry is finally paying off – if for nothing else, at least for some quality time between us. Merlin knows how much we've been needing it. Peter's at his aunt Tella – lovely woman, from what I heard. Makes you wish for a troll residing under your bed. Ray Ray is roaming western Europe since the beginning of the month, according to Wormtail. Eithne's savouring the Oriental breeze. And then you. Well, it sure seems as though we are all taking some time away, isn't it?

So what about Ireland? Having any fun so far? Or was Sirius' tedious tone any indication?

Speaking of which, are you really arranging a Marauders' meeting this Saturday or was Padfoot just desperately craving for mine and Peter's company after your abandonment? I'll actually be back to London tomorrow so you can count me in, hoax or not. Thought you'd get rid of me so easily, eh mate?

Joking aside, I have something else I would like to tell you, James. It's about Lily. She finally contacted me yesterday. You can only imagine how relieved I was, as I'm sure you are right now as well. All the muggle attacks that have been going about, I have to confess I was beginning to fear the worst at this point.

But she's alive and well and that's what matters. So don't worry, she's fine. So fine, in fact, that she didn't mind wasting an entire inch of parchment pouring out her inmost opinion of you. I'm sorry to say it wasn't a very positive one: for starters, she asked for you to stop writing to her (she doesn't want to speak to you), and even though I know you well enough to know that you won't possibly take this request seriously, I still think it's my duty as one of her best friends to transmit the message.

She also told me about a very recent episode involving your owl and her parents' favourite lamp? Am I correct? You will be the one paying for the damage inflicted in Miss Evans' property, I'm afraid. Not to worry, though, Gwenllian wasn't harmed. Something I cannot say about yourself, given her excessive usage of capitals in a single paragraph.

Say hi to your folks for me. And please don't hold any grudge against this completely exculpatory mate of yours.

For now deprived of his "furry little problem" and missing his favourite glaikits

Moony

JAMES POTTER!

YOU GORMLESS DIMWIT! I HOPE YOU ARE MOST PROUD OF YOURSELF! YOUR BLOOMING OWL JUST BURST INTO MY HOUSE THE OTHER DAY, SCARING MY SISTER HALF TO DEATH AND CAUSING HER TO ACCIDENTALLY CRASH A VERY VALUABLE AND EXPENSIVE RENAISSANCE PIECE. AS THOUGH IT WEREN'T ENOUGH TROUBLE FOR ONE NIGHT, OUR CARPET CAUGHT FIRE AND IT INSTANTLY SPREAD THROUGH THE ENTIRE LIVING ROOM LIKE GUNPOWDER!

I SURELY WASN'T SURPRISED WHEN A LETTER WITH YOUR HANDWRITING AND ADDRESS DROPPED AT MY FEET!

MUM AND DAD HAVE BEEN SCRUBBING THE WALLS FOR NEARLY SIX HOURS AND PETUNIA IS STILL TRYING TO FIX HER SINGED EYEBROWS WHILE YELLING AT ME NOT TO COME ANY CLOSER THAN FIFTEEN METERS FROM HER. AND IT'S ALLYOUR FAULT! AS IF SHE DIDN'T HATE ME ENOUGH ALREADY!

I WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTED TO STRANGLE YOU RIGHT NOW, IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE FACT OF IT INVOLVING PHYSICAL CONTACT, WHICH DESPITE WHAT YOU MIGHT THINK, POTTER, DOES NOT APPEAL TO ME IN THE LEAST!

I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO REMOTELY UNDERSTAND HOW AWFUL MY ROUTINE HAS BEEN BUT I DO EXPECT YOU TO BE CLEVER ENOUGH NOT TO BOTHER ME ANY MORE. HONESTLY, HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU NOT TO CONTACT ME? THE ONLY MAIL I SHALL RECEIVE FROM YOU BEST ONLY HAVE A SINGLE GREEN WAD ENCLOSED TO PAY FOR THE DAMAGE, POTTER! I AM NOT JOKING WHEN I TELL YOU TO GET OFF MY CASE PERMANENTLY!

IF IT WEREN'T FOR CONSIDERATION TO YOUR PARENTS AND WHOEVER ELSE THAT MIGHT BE LISTENING TO THIS, I WOULD NOT SPARE MOST OF THE INSULTS THAT I HAVE RESERVED FOR YOU. SO IN ORDER TO PRESERVE BOTH OUR DIGNITIES, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SENDING ME ANY MORE POEMS, LETTERS OR ANY OTHER DEMENTED APPROXIMATION OF LITERATURE! THEY WILL MOST LIKELY END UP STRAIGHT IN THE FIREPLACE WITHOUT ME CARING TO OPEN THEM.

CORDIALLY NOT YOURS,

LILY EVANS

Dear Padfoot,

Hello and thank you so much for sending me my gobstones! The board was completely soaked and it has been swelling ever since I used a heating charm on it, but other than that everything seems to be okay. Oh and some of the gobs seem to be missing and some are cracked but I think I was able to save them for the most part. Greeney was completely unscathed, thank Merlin! And the reason I put it in your trunk had nothing to do with Marlene. It was too sunny out and you know what sun does to gobs. Especially to ones with flubberworm mucus inside.

The bad news is I don't think I'll be able to play with them. You see, aunt Tella has assigned me a tutor over the holidays, so I've been quite busy studying this summer. She expects me to improve my marks next year, so I can get a decent job someday. She was very disappointed with my OWLs' results, as was ma. Pa was a brilliant student in his school years, potions especially. My worst score, that is.

I'm afraid I cannot go to James' house this weekend. I will be perfecting my brewing of the skele-gro potion and I think I'll get it right this time now that I can finally tell the difference between beetle eyes and doxy eggs.

I am very sorry! I hope you all have a grand day and enjoy these mint chocolate biscuits I'm sending. Ma made them.

Sincerely yours,

Wormtail

P.S.: I forgot to mention Reagan wrote me two days ago. She wants you to stop sending her bat wings bouquets because, in her words: "it's not cute anymore". She seemed quite upset.

P.S.S.: Fulbert's cremation wasn't an excuse. It really did happen!

Dear Eithne,

Konnichi wa, tomodachi! Hopefully I had the greeting right, but feel free to discord with me. I have very little faith in Pryderi's linguistic skills, after all. But forgive this whim of mine and tell me: how have your holidays been? Good, yes?

Mine have been marvellous. So many places to see, so many things to learn... I absolutely adore Europe! I wish I never had to leave again, because there are just too many things I still need to do and too many more days until I see Black's ugly mug again (no offense to you, of course). The downside of all this is: I miss you oh so terribly! I cannot wait to get home and channelise two months of homesickness into yours and Lily's scrawny little bodies. You have every right to demand for an indemnity afterwards.

I am currently visiting the Netherlands, a wonderful country if I do say so myself. Dulcie's camera came most in handy when we stopped by a small village called Kinderdijk. It's a beautiful place filled with many ancient windmills dating from the 1550s and that are surprisingly still operational. This was as much as I could gather about it – ja, ik leer Nederlands spreken! - but it is something, don't you think?

And then, somewhere in between deciding whether we should return to our hotel or stay a little while longer, that cheeky chappy Ceinwen got herself into trouble, unsurprisingly. This time, by falling into a lake. Of course her fascination for stone loaches had always been a bit worrying but we assumed that leaving her without vigilance for more than two minutes wouldn't cause any long-term damage. It would have been quite amusing, actually, if mother hadn't practically forced Dulcie and I into the water to retrieve her precious lastborn.

As it is, we ended up soaked to our bones and with mud up to our ankles so needless to say, my shoes and dress got completely ruined. Thankfully, my velvet cloche was saved by a gentlemanly boy who happened to be close by at the time and jumped right in after us. He, along with his mother and father helped the three fair, hopeless maidens out of the water and later invited us to their chalet to dry off. It was a fortunate coincidence that they spoke english rather well, otherwise the entire event would have been awfully awkward. We courteously accepted their offer, and after a few cups of tea, Gerhard's parents and mine had become the best of friends. You know how my father is when it comes to foreign cultures, and the dutch are particularly nice people once you get to know them.

We are now preparing to leave for Belgium, and Mr. and Mrs. Metternich already promised to visit us when we get back to London. Perhaps you can meet them then.

Ik hoop dat ik spoedig iets van je hoor (hope to hear from you soon),

Love,

Reagan

Dear Moony,

You will be pleased and shocked to hear that Lily finally brought herself to write to me. True, it was a Howler, but a Howler in which she was forced to spend some of her time, rage and wit with, no less. So now you don't have to feel so bloody special, do you? By the way, that best friends dig was nasty. Don't do it again.

Now, how shall I resume the lovely exchange? Well, after shouting senseless about my idiocy in that sweet voice of hers, she repeatedly warned me not to write her back unless I were to send her money. Ah, my Lily. How naive of her to think I will possibly comply with her wishes! Of course I plan on sending her the money (you will have to trade some of mine for muggle wads, however). But I certainly don't intend to stop writing to her every single minute available.

I know, I know. I shouldn't get her so riled up. But it's fun, Moony! And it's the only way I can get her to acknowledge my existence! So how can I possibly resist?

Onto more serious matters now, Dad did tell me a great deal about these attacks. He didn't want to, at first. Said I was too young and needn't worry myself with such things. Of course I bugged him day and night until he eventually yielded. Mum was not too pleased herself, but understood when I told her why it was so important to me. There was some sort of perturbing glister in her eyes, though, and something about her sad smile told me she found me hopeless.

Maybe she's right. I am hopeless, in a way. Yet I don't believe I care much, if that means I get to know about what has been happening. I don't know what I would do if Lily got hurt.

But I do not want to end this on a sad note. So if, by some chance, you bump into Peter somewhere, do try and convince him to come. It's great that his newfound ability to distinguish potions ingredients from evil pests' dejections is aiding him, but I am with Sirius when he says he "could give less of a flying armadillo about that".

The brownies were good, though, I'm sending you a couple some. Sorry if they're a bit squashed – blame Padfoot. I told him to open the window the first time Chester flew into it. Apparently, he found it extremely hilarious to see if he could get it to repeat it two more times. Hopefully, Peter won't notice the difference.

Despondent and highly in need of a certain redhead's snog,

Prongs

P.S.: Should I be aware of what renaissance actually means? Because I'm not. The same goes for gunpowder. What is this, some type of underdeveloped nation's disease?

P.S.S.: I am starting to think she is testing me. I did sense a few double-entendres roving in between the scurrility.

A/N: Hopefully you had a good time with our gang :) Please review! I'll help me figure out what I've done wrong or could do better and it's also a nice ego boost, yeah? Thank you for reading!