Title – Dear Evans
Summary – With Mad –Eye shouting constant vigilance in his head, there is not much penmanship a man can accomplish a.k.a. the letter Padfoot wrote to Evans whose reply Harry finds in Sirius' room
Rated - T for language
Pairings – Jily (mentioned)
Genre – Friendship, Humour, Family
Spoilers - for Potterverse
Dear Evans (and Prongs),
Before you sigh again and say, "Must you always be this way, Padfoot, you know I married James", let me just point out two things – 1) It is unbecoming of a proper English witch to sigh like that. No wonder nobody but Prongs would marry you. 2) Yes, I shall continue calling you Evans forever and ever; even when you become an old hag and your teeth start falling out and I'm still as dashing and young and handsome as ever, because let's face it – the day I grow old is the day Snivelly washes his hair. Oh wait, that might actually happen, at least I live in that hope. Lemme rephrase this, the day I grow old / ugly is the day Slytherins grow some balls. Fat chance of that happening. Anyway, I think I'm off the point. Ami I? Whoops!
So, how you two doing? Still shagging on the sofa? I remember that afternoon. What an awful afternoon, 'twas! Shame on you two horny rabid kids! Your innocent little offspring (MY GODSON!) sleeps in the next room! How can you be so abhorrent to scar his young ears and eyes and being to that? Shame on you filthy children. Speaking of filthy, hunted down a few Death Eaters yesterday – one of yours truly against 5 of those bastards. It was so much fun! Stop looking worried Lily, I'm fine – not a scratch. Fine, I got a few bruises. Ugh, no lies, just a couple of broken ribs. Nothing Mungo's couldn't patch right back up. Prongsie, mate, believe me when I say it was a freaking awesome duel. Cornered me, those twats, thought they'd k- right, shutting up.
On other news, Moony's been keeping a low profile. Dumbledore sent him to reason with the weres. Don't think it'll do much good though. Fenwick dropped by last week bearing news of the McKinnons. Shame, really, Marlene McKinnon was a decent Chaser (and quite easy on the eyes, eh Prongs?) The funeral's tomorrow. If Mad-Eye lets me off, maybe I'll drop by.
Speaking of Mad-Eye, that bastard's got me on a mission all through the next two weeks! Ergo I miss out on Harry's birthday. Why, oh why? The universe is conspiring against me, Evans, I tell you. Can't even go to my godson's first birthday. Tell the kid, Padfoot's sorry. I'll try to make it up. There's a little present for Prongslet with this letter. I think he'll enjoy it. I've got to go now. Maybe I'll visit you three soon (possible after Mad-Eye finds his sanity)
Stay safe.
Love,
Your favourite marauder,
Padfoot.
A/N: Does it need to be said that I'm not JKR? If I was, I would actually be getting on with writing that Marauders prequel. Anyway please read, review, and comment. Constructive criticism and / or feedback are always appreciated. If you liked this story, please favourite it or bookmark it or leave a kudo and maybe check out my other stories. I always follow back. I write stories sporadically.
