Dear Remus

Remus walked into the dorm and was about to collapse, exhausted, onto his bed when he saw an owl waiting for him, with a letter. He recognized the charcoal, sooty looking owl as Sirius' and assumed the letter in talon was from him.

He removed the parchment from the owl's talons and fell back onto his bed as the bird took off out the window.

Dear Remus,

Wow, that sounds formal. Here, I'll try again.

Hey Remus! What's up?

That doesn't look much better. Why would I be asking you a question that I won't even know the answer too? Why am I writing down questions that I'm asking myself? What the Hell is wrong with me?!?

Ok, I give up. I'll just come out and say what I wanted to say. I LOVE YOU!!! Just kidding. I wanted to write something that would shock you. Man I wish I could see you face when you read that. Hey, I could wait for you in my bed and watch you read this letter. That's a good idea…hmm. Anyway! What I wanted to say!

I'M BORED OUT OF MY MIND!!! Give me something to do Moony! Crossword, riddles, one of your cruel detention like essays I don't care! James is practicing for Quidditch in front of Evans and Peter is frantically trying to finish that essay for Professor Rorret. You know the one about the morality of killing beasts that can no longer be controlled by wizards. I already completed it. (Just so you know, I have that smug look on my face that you hate)

Now, you're angry with me, don't worry, I'll be sure to tell Rorret that you helped write a bit of it. Some of it. Roughly half of it. Ok, most of it. FINE! I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT! YOU WROTE IT ALL FOR ME! I'LL REWRITE SO WE WON'T GET IN TROUBLE!!!

How can you control me without even being here? You just cohered me into rewriting my essay that took three hours to write. Bloody Hell you're good.

Now to address the questions in your mind.

Q: Why did I write this?

A: I don't have a pen pal.

Q: Why did I choose you?

A: James isn't willing to put up with me, and Peter can't read.

Q: Why don't I just talk to you?

A: This is more fun.

Q: Am I expecting a response from you?

A: It would be nice.

Q: What's my favorite color?

A: Pink. It's feminine, yet strong.

Q: What do I want Santa to bring me?

A: Something inappropriate.

Q: How long does it take for the light from the sun to reach us?

A: About eight minutes.

Opps. Pince is looking pissed at me. I think I might be talking out loud. Write in a bit.

Ok. I'm back, but now I'm writing in class. I hope it looks like I'm taking notes. Even you seem fooled. Sweet! I'm sure you'll give me the notes after class, like you always do. Thanks Rem!

I can't think of any much more to write to you. I'd like to get a response, so if you could, thanks. See ya later.

Sirius

P.S. James is planning on drawing on your face tonight. Something about seeing a picture of KISS, whatever that is.