So even though I only got two reviews (You guys are awesome :D ) One of them did encourage me to continue this story (Thank you thank you thank you!) So a shout out to Sunny1601 (if you had an account I would have totally pmed you to thank you for your words of encouragement :)) Here's the second chapter! Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or The boy next door by Meg Cabot!
To: Tom Barrett concierge(a)paradiseinn . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: Message
To Whom It May Concern:
Please deliver the following message to Vivica Chandler, who is staying in the Sopradilla
Cottage.
Viv-
Do not-I repeat, DO NOT-accept any messages, telephone calls, faxes, emails, etc. for me from a woman named Lily Evans.
No, don't worry, she's not one of my exes. She's my aunt's next door neighbor.
Apparently, Helen took a tumble, and this Evans woman is trying to get in touch with me about the stupid dog.
But we aren't going to let her ruin our little get away together, are we?
So don't even answer the door until I get there. I'm just finishing up the Neve Campbell shoot, and then I'll be taking the red-eye out from LAX, so I ought to be there in Time to watch the sunset with you, baby. Keep the champagne chilled for me.
Love ya,
Peter
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: Tom Barrett concierge(a)paradiseinn . com
Subject: Message
Dear Mr. Pettigrew,
It is my pleasure to inform you that your message for Miss Chandler has been delivered. If there is anything else we here at the Paradise Inn can do to make your stay an enjoyable one, please do not hesitate to let us know.
We look forward to your joining us tomorrow.
Sincerely,
Tom Barrett Concierge
Paradise Inn
Key West, Florida
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: My Aunt
Dear Ms. Evans,
I am shocked. Deeply shocked and appalled to hear what has happened to my aunt Helen. She is, as I'm sure you know, my only living relative. I cannot thank you enough for the efforts you've gone to in order to contact me and let me know about this tragedy.
Although I am currently on assignment in Africa-perhaps you've heard of the drought here in Ethiopia? I am doing a photo shoot for the Save the Children Fund-I will begin making preparations to return to New York at once. If my aunt should wake before I get there, please assure her that I am on my way.
And thank you again, Ms. Evans. Everything they say about cold and unfeeling New Yorkers is obviously untrue in your case. God bless you.
Sincerely,
Peter Pettigrew
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: SOS
Dude. I'm in trouble. You've got to help me out.
I'm serious. You don't know what's at stake here: I have a chance for an extended vacation with Vivica. Yeah, you read that right. Vivica. The supermodel. The one who just dumped Levine. The one in those ads for that new bra with the water pump. The one on the SI cover. Yeah. THAT one.
But it's not going to work out, buddy, if you don't do me a little favor. Just one little favor. That's all I'm asking. And I know I don't have to remind you about that Time I saved your you-know-what in Vegas. Remember? Spring Break, our senior year? I've never seen anybody drink as many pitchers of margaritas as you did that night. I'm telling you, man, you'd be paying alimony right now if it weren't for me. I SAVED you. And you swore to me the next day (by the pool, remember?) that if there was ever anything you could do for me, you'd do it.
Well, today's the day. I'm calling it in. The Favor.
Crap, they're making me put away my electronic devices for take-off. Write back, man. I gotta know if you can do this for me, or else I'm dead meat.
Peter
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming, and just now, it arrived: A dispatch from Peter Pettigrew, demanding payback for a favor he did me our senior year in college. My God, that was ten years ago. The man has a mind like a sieve. He can't remember his own Social Security number, but this favor I owe him, he remembers. What did I ever do to deserve this?
You remember Peter, don't you, Padfoot? He was my roommate senior year, the one I got my first apartment with when I moved to the city after college. That dive in Hell's Kitchen, where the guy got stabbed in the back the first night we were there-remember? It was in the papers the next day...I think that's what led to my deciding to become a crime reporter, as a matter of fact.
Remember how Mim offered to get me out of the lease so I could move in with her and live, to quote Mim, like a human being? God, after two months of living with Peter, I almost took her up on it. It's like the guy still thought we were in college-half of Manhattan used to show up in our living room for Monday night football every week.
No hard feelings when I moved out, though. He still calls me every few months to catch up. And now this.
God only knows what Peter wants me to do for him. Rescue a raftful of refugee Cuban ballerinas, I suppose. Or house the Australian rugby team. Or loan him the $50,000 he owes to the Russian mob. I am seriously considering leaving the country, Padfoot. Do you think Mim would let me have the Lear for the weekend?
James
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
I hesitate to ask, of course, but as your big brother, I feel I have a right to know:
What, precisely, did Peter Pettigrew do for you that left you owing him this enormous debt?
Sirius
PS Spica says when are you coming to visit? The kids have been asking about you. Brittany's riding post, and Haley won best jumper at last week's exhibit.
PPS No go on the Lear. Julia's using it.
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Her name was Heidi. She was a showgirl. She had feathers in her hair, and a dress cut down there. Okay, not really. But her name was Heidi, and she was a showgirl. And apparently, I was determined to make her the first Mrs. James Potter.
You wouldn't understand, of course, having never done anything even slightly disreputable in all of your thirty-five years, but try, Sirius, to put yourself in my shoes: It was Spring Break. I was twenty-two. I was in love. I'd had way too many margaritas.
Peter dragged me out of the Wedding Chapel, sent Heidi home, took away my keys so I couldn't follow her, sobered me up, and put me to bed. I still think of her someTimes. She had red hair, and slightly bucked teeth. She was adorable. But not worth THIS.
James
PS Congratulate Haley and Brittany for me. Are you going out to the Vineyard this weekend?
I could meet you all there. Depending on whatever this favor of Peter's turns out to be.
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Ah. It is all become clear now. I know how you are when it comes to redheads.
And just what is THIS?
Sirius
PS No, we're going to the place in the Hamptons. You're welcome to join us.
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: SOS
I don't even want to ask. What is it that you want me to do for you, Peter?
And please, I'm begging you, nothing illegal in New York, or any other, state.
James
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: SOS
Look, it'll be a piece of cake: All I want you to do is be me. Just for a
week or two. Well, okay, maybe a month. Simple, right?
Here's the 411:
My aunt-you know, the filthy stinking rich one who always kind of reminded me of your grandma, Mimi, or whatever the hell her name is? The one who was so mean about our apartment? The neighborhood wasn't that bad.
Anyway, my aunt apparently suffered a senior moment and let a psychopath into her place, who conked her on the head and fled, and now she's in the vegetable crisper at Beth Israel. There is a chance-albeit a small one-according to her doctors, that she might come
out of it. So you understand that it simply won't do to have her waking up and finding out that her beloved Pete didn't fly to her side as soon as he heard about her accident. Auntie Helen's will is arranged 80-20-80% of the twelve million my aunt is worth goes to me
upon her demise, and 20% goes to various charitable organizations she sponsors. We wouldn't want there to be any sort of untiLily shift in those percentiles, now would we, on account of Pete turning out to have been playing house with a supermodel during this alarming tragedy? Of course we wouldn't. Which is where you, my friend, come in:
You're going to tell this neighbor of hers that you're me.
That's it. Just be me, so Ms. Lily Evans reports back to Auntie Helen-if she ever comes around, which is extreLily doubtful-that yes, her beloved nephew Pete did show up as soon as he heard about her little accident. Oh, yeah, and you might have to walk this dog a few Times. Just to shut the neighbor up.
And of course, if the old biddy shows the slightest sign of rejoining the conscious, you call me. Got it? And I'll rush right back.
But since I figure the chance of an eighty-year-old woman springing back from this kind of thing is pretty much nil, I won't be expecting to hear from you.
You know I wouldn't ask you to do this if we weren't talking Vivica here. Okay? VIVICA. The girl is supposedly very well versed in yoga. YO
GA, Potter.
You do this for me, and your slate's clean, dude. Whadduya say?
Peter
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: SOS
Let me see if I've got this straight:
Your aunt was the vicAmos of a brutal assault, and you don't even care enough to postpone your vacation? That is cold, Pettigrew. Really cold. Essentially, what you want me to do is commit fraud-a crime punishable by five to ten years in a state penitentiary-by impersonating you. Is that it?
I think I'd rather be married to the showgirl.
James
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: SOS
You crime reporters are all alike. Listen to me, Potter. I'm only going to say this once:
It's not fraud if you have my permission to impersonate me.
Why do you have to make it sound so underhanded? I told you, Helen's in a coma. She's never even going to know about it. If she croaks, you tell me, I come back to arrange the
funeral. If she comes out of it, you tell me, I come back to help her convalesce. But as long as she's unconscious, she's never going to know the difference. So why postpone anything? Besides, we're talking Vivica here.
You see how easy things can be if you don't overanalyze them? You were always like this. I remember those multiple choice tests we'd get in Bio, you were always, It can't be A-that's too obvious. They must be trying to trick us, and so you'd choose D, when the answer was CLEARLY A. As long as Auntie Helen-and her lawyers-don't know any better, why not let me enjoy my well-earned little vacation? Placate this neighbor of hers. That's all I'm asking. Just take over the dog-walking duties a few nights a week.
I think it's a very small price to pay, considering that I kept you from making the worst mistake of your entire life. You think old Mimsy would still be inviting you up to those soirees on the Vineyard if you had a Vegas showgirl for a wife?
I think not. I think you owe your buddy Pete, but good.
Peter
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
He wants me to walk his comatose aunt's dog while he's off partying with a supermodel.
I guess it could be worse. A lot worse.
So why do I have such a bad feeling about it?
James
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
You're right. It could be worse. Are you going to do it?
Sirius
PS Spica says to tell you she's got the perfect girl for you: Haley's dressage instructor. Twenty-nine, size four, blonde, blue-eyed, the works. What do you say?
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Why not? I mean, walking an old lady's dog...How bad can that be?
James
PS You know I can't stand dressage. There's something unnatural about making a horse dance.
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
The horses don't dance in dressage, you moron. They step. And have you ever considered that you and Heidi might have been perfectly suited for one another? I mean, with the kind of luck you've been having with women lately, Heidi could very well have been your
last chance at real happiness. Just think, if you'd followed your heart, instead of Peter Pettigrew's head, you could be the one providing Mim with a grandkid next December, instead of me.
Sirius
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate you?
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: SOS
Okay, I'll do it.
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: Operation Snuffles
All right. I'll let the neighbor know to expect you (I mean, me) tonight for the big key exchange. She's got my aunt's spare. It has not apparently occurred to her to wonder why Aunt Helen never gave me a key to her place (that fire in her last apartment was not my fault. There was something wrong with the wiring).
Remember, you're supposed to be me, so try to act like you care about the old lady's hemotoma, or whatever it is. And listen, as long as you're being me, could you try to dress with a little...what's the word I'm looking for here? Oh, I know. STYLE. I know for guys like you who are born into money, the instinct is to downplay the trillions you're worth. And that's cool with me. I mean, I can understand this whole thing you're doing, getting a real job instead of the cushy family one your big brother offered. And I'm totally fine with it. If you want to pretend like you're only making forty five grand a year, that's just great. But while you're being me, could you PLEASE not dress like a grad student?
I am begging you: No Grateful Dead T-shirts. And stone-washed jeans? Yeah, those are OUT, James.
And those deck shoes you always wear? Would something in a tassel kill you?
And for the love of God, invest in a leather jacket. Please. I know it will mean touching some of those precious millions in that trust fund your grandfather left you, but really, something NOT from the Gap would be good.
That's all. That's all I ask. Just try to look good when you're imitating me. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.
Peter
PS The neighbor left a number, but I lost it. Her email's ( (a)thehogwartsjournal. com)
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: SOS
Merlin, Pettigrew, she works for the Hogwarts JOURNAL?
You didn't say that. You didn't say anything about your aunt's neighbor working for the Hogwarts Journal. Don't you get it, Peter? She might KNOW me. I'm a journalist. So is she. Yeah, we work for rival papers, but for God's sake, the field's pretty small. What if she opens the door and it turns out we've been to the same conferences-or crime scenes?
Your cover will be blown. Or do you not care?
J
PS And how am I supposed to email her? She's going to know I'm not you when she reads my address.
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: Operation Snuffles
Of course I care. And don't worry, I already checked her out. She does the gossip page. I doubt you've been running into any gossip columnists at the crime scenes you've been covering lately.
Peter
PS Apply for a second email account. My God, it's not like you don't have the money.
PPS Quit bugging me. Vivica and I are trying to watch the sunset.
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: I'm not happy
Gossip? She's a gossip columnist, Peter? She's going to know I'm not you for SURE.
Peter? PETER?
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Oh my God, Milly! I heard from him!
He's on assignment in Ethiopia, photographing little starving kids for the Save the Children Fund! And I've just asked him to leave to come home and take care of his aunt's dog! What kind of a horrible bitch must I seem to him? Oh God, I knew I shouldn't have tried
to contact him. Now he's going to hate me.
Lily
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
What's more important to him, a bunch of starving kids he doesn't know, or his aunt's dog? I don't mean to sound cold, but starving children or not, the man has to take some responsibility. Besides, his aunt is in a coma, Lily. I mean, if your only living relative is in a coma, you come home, for God's sake, starving kids or not.
When's he getting here, anyway? Are you going to be able to make the pool party? Because Remus's threatening to break off the engagement if I don't go.
Milly :-/
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Cissa Black (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Darling, I could hear you shrieking all the way in the art department. I thought at the very least the cast of Friends was breaking up. But now I find out it's only because Peter Pettigrew emailed you. But what's this I hear about him doing it from in Ethiopia? Peter Pettigrew would
NEVER go to Ethiopia. My God, it's so...dusty there. You must be confusing him with someone else. Now, listen, about Severus: I am bound and determined to make him into something I wouldn't be ashamed to introduce to Stephen. So do you think he'll resist strongly to my steering him over towards Barney's? He's simply got to have some linen pants, don't you think? He'll look so devastatingly F Scott Fitzgerald in linen. Can you say something, darling, next Time you pass him on your way to the copier?
Something completely cutting like, Nice khakis, ought to put him exactly where I want him.
Cissa XXXOOO
To: Blake and Rosalind Evans BlakeRose(a)dnr . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Debbie Phillips
Hi, Mom. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Things here have been pretty busy, like I mentioned to you over the phone. I'm still walking Mrs. Pettigrew's dog, but tonight her nephew is supposed to come by, and hopefully we'll work something out. Which is good because I've been getting into trouble at work for being late every day. Working stiffs. It's like they think they're special, or something, because they control what goes into our performance files.
Anyway, other than the stuff with Mrs. Pettigrew (don't worry, Mom, I always lock my door, and I never open my door to strangers-besides, Ralph, the doorman, would never let a stranger up without buzzing me first), things have been going okay. I'm still stuck on Page Ten-I can't convince Mr. Sanchez, my boss, that I really could do hard reporting, if he'd let me.
Let's see, what else? Oh, I broke up with that guy I told you about. It wasn't going anywhere. Well, at least, I didn't see it going where he saw it going. Besides, it turns out he was cheating on me with Fluer Delacour. Well, I guess he wasn't really cheating since he and I never really did anything anyway-don't let Daddy read this, all right?
Oh, there's the buzzer. Mrs. Pettigrew's nephew is here. I have to go.
Love,
Lily
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Blake and Rosalind Evans BlakeRose(a)dnr . com
Subject: Strange men
Lillian! You call me as soon as that man is gone! How could you let a man you've never met before into your apartment? He could be that serial killer I saw on the Inside Edition! The one who puts on his vicAmoss clothes and strolls around in them after he's done hacking their bodies into pieces! If you don't call Daddy and me within one hour, I'm
telephoning the police. I mean it, Lily.
Mommy
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
So? What was he like?
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Remus Lupin foodie(a)fresche . com
Subject: Well?
DON'T TELL MILLY I WROTE THIS.
But listen, Lily, you have GOT to get this guy to take over the dog-walking thing for you. Because if you don't, and you can't come to this engagement party at my uncle Casper's, Milly's going to have a nervous breakdown. I swear to God. Don't ask me why, but she's got this thing with her weight, and she needs like your moral support or something every Time she has to get into a bathing suit. So as her maid of honor, it is your duty to appear with her at this party on Saturday. So get this dude to walk the dog that day, okay?
If he gives you a hard Time, let me know. I'll take care of him. People think guys who cook can't be tough, but that's not true. I'll do to the guy's face what I did to tonight's special, which happened to be veal picatta-pounded flat and swimming in the lightest white wine sauce you ever tried. I'll give you the recipe if you want later.
NOW DON'T FORGET!
Remus
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: Operation Snuffles
You wore tassels, right? On your shoes? When you went to see her tonight?
Just tell me you wore tassels.
Peter
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: How'd It Go?
Just wondering how your little performance this evening went.
And Spica wants to know if you're still coming for dinner on Thursday like we planned.
Sirius
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: HI!
HI! THIS IS VIVICA, PETER'S FREIND, WRITING TO YOU ON EMAIL! PETER IS IN THE HOT TUB BUT HE ASKED ME TO ASK YOU HOW IT WENT WITH THAT WEIRD LADY WHO HAS THE DOG PROBLEM. DID SHE BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE PETER? IT IS WEIRD TO BE WRITING TO YOU SEEING AS HOW I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU. WHAT IS THE WEATHER LIKE IN NEW YORK? HERE IT IS EIGHTY AND BEAUTIFUL. WE SAW SOME PERFORMING CATS TODAY. IT WAS CRAZY! WHO KNEW
CATS COULD DO THAT? OH PETER SAYS TO ASK YOU TO CALL HIM HERE AT THE HOTEL AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS MESSAGE. THE NUMBER IS 904-555-6576. ASK FOR THE
SOPRADILLA COTTAGE. SOPRADILLA IS A FLOWER. IT GROWS ALL OVER KEY WEST. KEY WEST IS ONLY NINETY MILES FROM CUBA, WHERE I ONCE DID A SWIMSUIT SHOOT. UH OH I HAVE TO GO PETER IS HERE IIEEIHHILZHMND V...
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: What he's like
Okay, the stats:
I would say six foot one or two. Big shoulders. I mean really big. Dark messy hair, but not too dark. Hazel eyes. You know the kind. SomeTimes green. SomeTimes brown. SomeTimes searing into my soul... Just kidding. As for the rest:
I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain. He wasn't what I was expecting, that's for sure. I mean, from what I'd heard, about the modeling shoots and everything, I was expecting a real smooth operator, you know? But what kind of smooth operator goes around
in a Grateful Dead T-shirt? And he had on jeans. And deck shoes with no socks.
I expected Gucci loafers at least.
And he was so modest-I mean, for a guy who entered a nude picture of himself into the Biennial. I think Cissa must be exaggerating about that. Maybe he wasn't really nude. Maybe he was wearing one of those flesh-colored body stockings they wear, you know, in the movies.
And he didn't want to talk about his trip to Ethiopia at all! When I mentioned the work he was doing for the Save the Children fund, he actually seemed embarrassed, and tried to change the subject. I tell you, Milly, he doesn't seem at all the way Cissa described him.
Even Mrs. Pettigrew didn't do him justice. She's always talked about him as if she thought he was a little irresponsible, but I'm telling you, Milly, he didn't seem that way to me. He asked all sorts of things about what happened-I mean about the break-in, and all. Although I guess it wasn't really a break-in, since the door wasn't even locked...
Anyway, it was really touching how much he seemed to care about his aunt. He asked me to show him where I found her, and how she was lying, and if anything was missing...
It was almost as if he'd had some experience dealing with violent crime...I don't know.
Maybe there were some catfights at the Victoria's Secret shoot?!
Another odd thing: he seemed kind of surprised at how big Snuffles is. I mean, considering that I know Mrs. Pettigrew had Peter over for dinner at least a few months ago, and Snuffles five years old, so it's not like he could have grown any. When I mentioned how last week Snuffles practically wrenched my shoulder out of its socket, Peter said he didn't see how a frail old lady could walk such a big dog on a regular basis.
Isn't that funny? I guess only a nephew would think of Mrs. Pettigrew as frail. She's always seemed like a tough old bird to me. I mean, considering that last year she hiked all over Yosemite...
Anyway, Milly, I'm so glad you made me get in touch with him! Because he said he didn't feel right about me walking Snuffles with my hurt shoulder and all, and that he was going to move in next door, to take care of the animals and sort of keep an eye on things.
Can you believe that? A man who actually takes care of his responsibilities? I am still in shock.
I have to go-someone's at the door. Oh, God, it's the cops! My mother called the cops! I forgot to call her back!
Gotta go-
L
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: What he's like
Okay, the cops are gone. I explained about my mother and her obsession with the transvestite killer. They didn't even get that mad.
Anyway, Milly, do you want to know something else? About Peter Pettigrew, I mean. If you can stand it... From where I'm sitting, at my desk at home, I can see into his apartment-I mean, Mrs. Pettigrew's apartment. Right into the spare bedroom. Mrs. Pettigrew always kept the mini-blinds in that room down, but Peter opened them right up (to look at the city lights, I guess-we do have that nice view here on the 15th floor) and I can see him lying on the bed, typing something on his laptop. Tweedle-dum is on the bed beside him, as is Snuffles,
of course (no sign of Crookshanks, but then, he's shy). I know it's wrong to look, but, Milly, they look so nice and happy in there!
And I guess it doesn't hurt that Peter really has very nice forearms...
Oh, God. I had better go to bed. I think I'm getting slap-happy.
Love,
Lily
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: How'd It Go?
She's a redhead. Help.
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Cissa Black (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Darling, did I overhear you correctly when I ran into you and Milly at Starbucks this morning? Did you say Peter Pettigrew actually moved in next door to you? And that you were actually spying on him? And that you saw him naked? I seem to have gotten some water in my ears last weekend at Stephen's, so I just want to make sure I heard you right before I call every single person I know and tell them.
Cissa XXXOOO
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Cissa
Lily-
Would you stop obsessing? Who is she going to tell? Cissa doesn't know that many people. And the ones she does know all hate her and wouldn't believe her anyway.
Trust me.
Milly
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Severus Snape (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: You
Lily, did I hear this from Cissa correctly? Did a naked man move in next door to you?
What happened to the old lady? Did she end up dying? I hadn't heard. I'm very sorry for your loss, if that's the case. I know the two of you were fairly close, for Manhattan neighbors. But I don't think it's appropriate for a man to parade around nude in front of his neighbors. You really ought to complain to the co-op board about this, Lily. I know you are only renting, and that you don't like to make waves because you have such a good deal on the place, but this kind of thing could be perceived as a sexual assault.
Really, it could.
Lily, I was wondering if you'd given any thought to what I said in the elevator the other day. I really meant it. I think it's Time. I remember that day when we went walking through Central Park during your lunch hour. It seems so long ago, but it was only last spring. You purchased a hot dog from an outdoor vendor, and I urged you not to, because of that story I did on carcinogens in street cart food. I'll never forget the way your blue eyes flashed at me as you said, Severus, in order to die, you have to live a little first.
Lily, I've decided: I want to live. And the person I want to live with, more than anyone else in the world, is you. I believe I am ready to make a commitment.
Oh, Lily, please won't you let that commitment be with you?
Severus
Severus Snape
Senior Correspondent
The Hogwarts Journal
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Albus Dumbledore (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Tardiness
So Cissa tells me you finally got in touch with the dog guy. That would explain why you were on Time this morning for the first Time in 27 days.
Congratulations, kid. I'm proud of you. Now if you'd just start handing in your copy on Time, I won't have to fire you. But I guess I shouldn't count on that happening, since I hear this new neighbor of yours looks pretty good in the buff.
A
To: Cissa Black (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Cissa, I swear to God, if you tell one more person that I saw Peter Pettigrew naked I will personally come over there and put a stake through your heart, which I hear is the only way to stop people like you. He was not NAKED, okay? He was fully clothed. FULLY CLOTHED AT ALL TIMES. Well, except for his forearms. But that's all I saw, I swear it.
So stop telling people otherwise!
Lily
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Cissa Black (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
Darling, have I struck a nerve or something? I've never seen you use All Caps quite so strenuously. Peter must have really made an impression on you for you to be so heated up. But then, he has that effect on women. He can't help it. Pheromones, you know. The man is lousy with them. Well, must go. Cornelius Fudge is taking me to lunch. Yes, that's right, Cornelius Fudge the editor in chief. Who knows, when I get back from lunch, I just might have a nice fat promotion. But don't worry, I won't forget the little people.
Cissa XXXOOO
PS What do you think of Severus's new pants? Aren't they just the thing? Hugo Boss. I know, I know. But it's a start.
To: Remus Lupin foodie(a)fresche . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Saturday
Hi! Just a quick note to tell you not to worry-I'll be there Saturday.
Yes, the dog guy actually showed up! See you then-
Proud to be your future wife's maid of honor-
Lily
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: How'd It Go?
She's a redhead? That's IT? You're just going to leave me hanging here? WHAT HAPPENED?
Sirius
PS Spica wants to know, too.
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: How It Went
Sorry. I got hung up on a story, and then I had to go back to Pettigrew's aunt's place to walk the dog. Peter failed to mention that the misleadingly-named Snuffles is a GREAT DANE. The dog weighs more than Mim. So what do you want to know? Did she believe I was Peter Pettigrew? I am sorry to say that she did.
Did I play the part of Peter Pettigrew to perfection? I guess I must have, or she wouldn't have believed I was he. Do I feel like a grade-A heel for doing it? Yes. Self-flagellation and a big scarlet letter A for me. The worst part is...well, I already told you the worst part. She thinks I'm Peter Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew, the ingrate who doesn't even seem to care that someone cold-cocked his eighty-year-old aunt. Lily cares, though. That's her name. The redhead. Lily. People call her Lily. That's what she told me.
People call me Lily. She moved to the city right after college, which makes her about twenty-seven years old, since she's lived here for five years. Originally, she's from Lansing, Illinois. Have you ever heard of Lansing, Illinois? I've heard of Lansing, Michigan, but not Lansing, Illinois. She says it's a small town where you can walk down Main Street and everyone goes, Oh, hi, Lily.
Just like that. Oh, hi, Lily.
On her bookshelves are, among a great many other books, copies of every single thing ever written by J.K Rowling. Lily has a theory that for every century, there's a writer who sums up the popular culture of the Time, and for the nineteenth century, it was Dickens, and for the twentieth, it was J.K Rowling. She says it has yet to be determined who is going to be the voice of the twenty-first century. You know what my ex Heather (you remember Heather, don't you, Sirius? She's the one you and Spica referred to as the Mouth Breather?) Had on her bookshelves, Sirius? The complete works of Kierkegaard. She'd never read Kierkegaard, of course, but the book covers matched the color of her sofa cushions. That's what she saw me as. Heather, I mean. A six foot two checkbook that could pay off her decorating bill. Remind me again why Mim was so upset when Heather and I broke it off?
Oh, and when I got there, she offered me beer. Lily, not Heather.
Not seltzer. Not wine. Not Glenfiddich on the rocks, or a Cosmo. Beer. She said she had two kinds: Light, and root. I had root. So did she. She showed me where Peter's aunt keeps the dog and cat food. She told me where to buy more, in case I ran out. She told me what Snuffles' favorite walks were. She showed me how lure a cat named, and I kid you not, Crookshanks, out from underneath the bed. She asked me about my work for the Save the Children fund. She asked me about my trip to Ethiopia. She asked me if I'd been to visit my aunt in the hospital, and if it had upset me very much, seeing her with all those tubs coming out of her. She patted me on the arm and told me not to worry, that if anyone could come out of a coma, it was my aunt
Helen. And I stood there and grinned like an idiot and pretended I was Peter Pettigrew.
Anyway, I'm moving in. To Helen Pettigrew's apartment. So if you need to call me, the number's 212-555-8972. Only don't call. Loud ringing noises, I've discovered, upset Crookshanks .Gotta go.
James
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Who are you?
And what have you done with my brother? He used to be a rational human being, until he started pretending to be Peter Pettigrew and met this Lily person.
ARE YOU INSANE? You can't move into that woman's apartment. What is wrong with you? GET OUT NOW WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
Sirius
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: I think it's sweet
Hi, James. It's Spica, your sister-in-law. Sirius let me read your last email. I hope you don't mind. I also hope you don't listen to him. I think what you are doing is very sweet, helping out that poor girl next door with the old lady's pets. Sirius is trying to tell me that
you aren't doing it to be nice, and something about red hair, but I am not listening to him. He has a very sick mind. He told me just the other day that the music on my pregnancy exercise video sounds like the music from a porno! When has he ever watched porn, is what I would like to know. Anyway, I'm just saying, don't you feel bad about pretending to be this Peter person. It's for a greater good. And why don't you ask the little redhead over for dinner on Sunday
night? I'll make sure I tell the girls to call you Peter. They'll think it's fun, I'm sure. Like a game! Well, that's all for now. Hope to see you soon.
Your loving sister-in-law,
Spica
To: Rufus Scrimgeour (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Contact
Please note that for the next several weeks, I will be available only by cell phone. Do not leave messages for me on my home phone. I can always be reached by email, either at this address, or my new one, ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com.
Thanks
James Potter
Senior Crime Correspondent
The NY Chronicle
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
Subject: For Spica
Dear Spica,
I'd just like to thank you for being so understanding about my current situation. You see, my brother, your husband, has a tendency to take a very cynical view of everything. Don't ask me how he got this way, since Sirius has always been the lucky one: he's the one who got the head for business, while all I got was, if you'll excuse the cliche, the body for sin. He was also lucky enough to get you, Spica. I guess it's easy for a guy who's got such a gem for a wife to sit back and criticize the rest of us poor slobs, who can't even find a geode out there, let alone a jewel. I guess Sirius doesn't remember how hard it was for him to meet a girl who was actually attracted to him, and not the Potter family fortune. Apparently, Sirius doesn't remember Michelle. Be sure to ask him about Michelle, Spica. Or Fiona, for that matter. Or Monica, Karen, Louise, Cathy, or Alyson. Go on, ask him. I'd be curious to see what he has to say about any of them. What Sirius doesn't seem to realize is that he has already found the best girl in the world.
He forgets that some of us losers are still out there looking.
So tell your husband to cut me a little slack, will you, Spica?
And thanks for the invitation, but if it's all right with you, I'll skip dinner this Sunday.
Love,
James
PS Write back to me at my new address, listed above. I'm not sure whether it works yet.
To: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: Your new email address
James:
LeviOsa? Are you insane? Have you lost your mind? THAT's the address you chose as your redhead safe account? You might be surprised to know that most girls aren't really into Harry Potter, Jamsie. They like the Hunger Games. Female power and all that. And stop writing to my wife. All I've heard from her all day is Who's Alyson? Who's Michelle? Next Time I see you, Jamsie, you are a dead man.
Sirius
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
Subject: Harry Potter
You're wrong. Most girls prefer Harry Potter to The Hunger Games. I just took an office poll, and Harry Potter won over The Hunger Games by a margin of nearly five to one-although the girl from the mailroom doesn't like either of them, so her vote doesn't count.
Besides, I looked at Lily's books when she was in the kitchen getting the root beer, and I didn't see a single book from the Hunger Games series. You know nothing about women.
James
To: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: You know nothing about women
And you do?
To: Sergeant Kingsley Shacklebolt KingShacklebolt(a)eightyninthprecinct . nyc . org
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Helen Pettigrew
Reese-
I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I need a look at anything you've got on Helen Pettigrew, 12-17 West 82nd, Apt. 15A. She was a B & E with, I believe, an assault-a pretty serious one, since she's been in the ICU ever since, comatose.
I appreciate it, and no, it's not for a story, so don't worry about your CO.
James Potter
Senior Crime Correspondent
The New York Chronicle
To: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
From: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
Subject: Helen Pettigrew
Don't worry. Everything went fine. I safely evaded Ms. Evans's queries about my work for the Save the Children Fund. Nice one, by the way. I suppose by children you mean those 18-year-old gum-chewing sticks you spend your days photographing in fashions only 48-year-old divorcees can afford?
You really are a bastard, you know.
J
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Peter Pettigrew photoguy(a)stopthepresses . com
Subject: Lighten up
God, I forgot what a stick in the mud you could be. No wonder you haven't had a girlfriend in so long. What was wrong with the last one? Oh, yeah, I remember: the Kierkegaarde collection that matched the sofa. Dude, you need to chill. Who cares what books a woman's got on her shelves? It's what she's like between the sheets that matters,
heh heh heh.
Peter
To: James Potter (a)thehogwartschronicle . com
From: Sergeant Kingsley Shacklebolt KingShacklebolt(a) .org
Subject: Helen Pettigrew
Potter-
File's on its way. Or should I say some copies of the file that were accidentally made while the CO was at lunch. If any of this shows up in your paper, Potter, you can kiss that Mustang of yours good bye. Consider it impounded.
Brief summation of incident involving Helen Pettigrew:
Call came in at approximately 8:50AM, reporting unconscious female in her home. We had a unit in the park nearby. They arrived on the scene at approximately 8:55AM.
Found victim being given first aid by woman purporting to be neighbor. Later confirmed woman as one Lily Evans, living next door in Apt 15B.
Victim approximately eighty-year-old woman. When originally found, was facedown on living room carpet. Witness claims in her statement that she turned the woman to check for heartbeat, respiratory distress, etc. Victim breathing with weak pulse when EMS arrived at 9:02AM. No sign of break-in or illegal entrance to home. Outside lock not tampered with. Door unlocked, according to neighbor.
According to doctors, victim was struck on the back of the head with blunt object, possibly small-caliber pistol. Assault occurred approximately twelve hours before discovery of victim.
Questions put to doormen and neighbors revealed that:
a) No one called upon Apt. 15A the night previous to the discovery of the victim.
b) No one heard any sort of disturbance at or around 9PM that evening.
One added note: there were a number of the victim's clothing thrown across her bed, as if previous to accident, victim had been trying to decide what to wear. However, victim, when found, was in nightclothes, including hair curlers, etc.
A reporter might try to make something out of the fact that this could be construed as another attack by the transvestite killer. There is one major difference, however: the transvestite killer actually kills his victims, and tends to stick around to make sure they are really dead.
Additionally, the transvestite killer's victims have all been in their 20s, 30s, and 40s.
Mrs. Pettigrew, though apparently spry for her age, was unlikely to be mistaken for a younger woman. Well, that's it. We got nothing. Of course, if the old lady croaks, that'll change things. Then the thing shifts to a homicide, and we'll get the dicks in and dust for prints, etc. But unless that happens, this is being treated as an interrupted robbery.
That's all I can think of. Good luck, and tell your colleagues to knock it off already on the Street Crime Unit. Yeah, some of them are scumbags, but most of them are good guys.
Kingsley
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: He didn't mean it
Milly, you know he didn't mean it. At least not the way you think he did. All Remus was saying is that if you're going to sit around and complain about your weight so much, why not do something about it and join a gym? He never said you were fat. All right? I was there. HE DID NOT SAY YOU'RE FAT. Now are you seriously going to tell me you didn't you have fun at the party? And Remus' uncle Casper is a doll. That toast he gave the two of you...it was so sweet! I swear, Milly, sometimes I'm so jealous of you I could burst. I would give anything to find a guy with an uncle Casper who'd throw me a pool party
and call me a Botticelli Venus. And you did NOT look fat in that suit. My God, it had enough Gortex in it to keep Marlon Brando's flab in check. Your tiny belly didn't stand a chance. So would you snap out of it and act like an adult? If you're good, I'll let you come over and spy on Peter Pettigrew with me...Oooh, look, tonight he's got on a muscle T...
Lily
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: My butt
You are lying. About the muscle T and about what Remus meant. You know good and well he meant that he's sick of looking at my size sixteen rear end. I am sick and tired of looking at my size sixteen rear end. And I fully intend to join a gym. I just don't need Remus suggesting it. It's his fault I'm this size, you know. I was a size
twelve until he came along and started making me his trademark pappardella alla Toscana with four cheeses and a Marsala wine sauce every night. Oh, baby, come on, just try a taste, you've never had anything like it. Ha! And what about his rigatoni alla vodka? Vodka my ass. That's a cream sauce, and nobody can tell me any different. And as for being called a Botticelli Venus, believe me, there are better things to be called. Now what's the dog guy really wearing?
M :-/
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: What he's wearing
What do you care what he's got on? You're engaged. But if you insist...
Let me see, he is laying (or is it lying? No wonder they stuck me on Page Ten) on the bed in jeans and a T-shirt (sorry, no muscle T-you're right, I was lying to see if you were paying attention). He has his laptop out again. Snuffles is there beside him. Snuffles is looking disgustingly happy, I must say. That dog never looked that happy when I was over there.
Maybe- Oh my God! No wonder that dog is happy! He's feeding him Alpo-on the bed! That dog is getting Alpo all over Mrs. Pettigrew's guest room's chenille bedspread! What is wrong with this man? Doesn't he realize chenille has to be dry-cleaned?
This is so pathetic. This is so pathetic, Milly. I mean, the pathos of it all just suddenly came washing over me. I am sitting here in my apartment, recording the guy next door's activities for my best friend, who is engaged. Milly, you are getting married! And what am I doing? Sitting here at home in my sweats emailing my girlfriend.
I AM PATHETIC! I am worse than pathetic, I am- OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD, Milly! He just saw me.
I'm not kidding. He just waved! I am so embarrassed. I am going to die. I am going to-
Oh my God, he's opening the window. He's opening the window. He's saying something to me.
I'll get back to you.
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: WRITE BACK!
If you don't write me back tonight, I swear I am calling the cops. I don't care if I'm just like your mother. You don't know anything about this guy, except that his crazy aunt lives next door to you and he has a naked picture of himself up in the Whitney. Which I think you and I need to take a little field trip on Monday to see, by the way.
WRITE BACK TO ME- or the boys from the 87th Precinct will be paying you another visit.
Milly
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Remus Lupin foodie(a)fresche . com
Subject: Cut it out
I've been trying to get through to you for the past two hours, but your phone's been busy. I can only assume that either it's off the hook because you don't want to talk to me, or you are yakking it up on-line with Lily. If it is the latter, go off line and call me at the restaurant. If it is the former, stop being such a spaz.
All I said was if you're that freaked out about this whole wedding dress thing, get a personal trainer, or something. I mean, jeez, Milly, you're driving me crazy with this whole size twelve crap. Who CARES what size you are? *I* don't care. I love you exactly the way you are. And I don't give a rat's ass how many of your sisters have worn that stupid dress of your mother's. I hate that dress anyway. It's ugly. Just go out and buy a new dress, one that fits you the way you are NOW. You'll feel better in it and it will look better on you. Your mother will understand, and who cares what your sisters think? Screw your sisters, anyway. I have to go. Table 7 just sent back their salmon because it was undercooked.
See what you made me do?
R
To: Remus Lupin foodie(a)fresche . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Excuse me...
but I do not appreciate your attitude towards my sisters. I happen to like my sisters. What if I said screw your brothers? What if I said screw your uncle Casper? How would you like that, huh? It's all very well for you to talk. All you have to do is throw on some rented tuxedo. *I* on the other hand have to be radiant. DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? God, it's so easy to be a man.
Milly
To: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: No big deal
He just couldn't figure out how to work his aunt's electric can opener. He bought Crookshanks some actual tuna in order to lure him out from under the bed. It didn't work, of course. I suggested next Time he buy tuna in water rather than olive oil. I don't know that cats like olive oil so much. Anyway, while I was there, he asked which was the best place in the neighborhood to order Chinese from. So I told him, and then he asked if I'd had dinner, and I said no, so he asked if I wanted to order with him, and so I said yes, and we had barbecued spare ribs, cold sesame noodles, moo shu pork, and chicken with broccoli at Mrs. Pettigrew's kitchen table. And I know what you are going to say now, and no, it was not a date, Milly.
For God's sake, it was only Chinese food. In his aunt's kitchen. With Snuffles sitting there, waiting for one of us to drop something so he could vacuum it up in his jowls.
And no, he didn't make a pass at me. Peter, I mean, not Snuffles. Although I don't see how he could resist seeing as how I'm sure I was quite stunning in my It's-Saturday-Night- And-I-Don't-Have-A-Date sweats. The fact is, Cissa has to be wrong about Peter. He's no ladies' man. It was all very casual and friendly. It turns out we have a lot in common. He likes mysteries and so do I, so we talked about our favorite mysteries. You know, he is quite literary,
for a photographer. I mean, compared to some of the guys in the art department at work. Can you picture Larry conversing knowingly about Edgar Allan Poe? I don't think so. Oh, God, a horrible thought just occurred to me: what if all that stuff Cissa said about Peter is true, and he IS a ladies' man? What does that mean, seeing as how he didn't make a pass at me? It can only mean one thing!
Oh, God, I'm hideous!
Lily
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Go take a Midol...
would you, please? You are not hideous. I'm sure all those things Cissa said about Peter Pettigrew aren't true. I mean, it's CISSA, for God's sake. She used to have YOUR job.
Only unlike you, she wasn't exactly scrupulous about what she reported. For instance, I sincerely doubt she'd have felt your moral outrage over what Matt Damon did to Winona.
I'm sure he's a very nice guy, just like you said.
Milly :-)
To: Cissa Black (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: Melissa (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
Subject: Peter Pettigrew
All right. Spill it. What's the truth about this guy? Because he has basically moved in next door to Lily and she's clearly smitten, despite her protests to the contrary. Is he really as bad as you say, or are you exaggerating, as usual? And remember: I am the head food critic at the paper. I can make sure you never get into Nobu again with a single phone call, so don't mess with me, Cissa.
Milly
To: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: So?
You're not speaking to me now, or what? All I said was that what you don't know about women would fill the Grand Canyon. What are you so touchy about all of a sudden?
Sirius
PS Spica wants to know if you've asked the redhead out yet.
To: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
From: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
Subject: So?
I am not being touchy. What do you want from me? Not all of us have a personal assistant, a driver, an au pair, a housekeeper, a gardener, a team of pool maintenance workers, a tennis instructor, a nutritionist, and a job our grandfather handed to us to on a silver platter, you know. I'm just busy, all right? My God, I've got a full Time job and a
Great Dane I have to walk four Times a day.
James
PS Tell Spica I'm working on it.
To: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
From: Sirius Potter (a)pottercapital . com
Subject: You ought to seek professional help
Listen, you psychotic freak: where is this hostility coming from? You know, you could have a job in your grandfather's office if you wanted one. Ditto a personal assistant. I don't know about a team of pool maintenance workers, as, living in the city, you don't have a pool. But everything I've got you could easily have if you would just give up this absurd quest you've embarked on to prove you can get along without Mim's money.
I'll tell you the one thing you really need that you don't have is a psychiatrist, buddy, because you seem to be in grave danger of forgetting something:
You do not have to walk that damn dog four Times a day. Why? Because you are not Peter Pettigrew. Got it? YOU ARE NOT PETER PETTIGREW, no matter what you're telling that poor girl.
Now get over yourself.
PS Mim wants to know if you are going to the dedication of that new wing we've donated to Sloan-Kettering. If you are, she requests that you wear a tie for a change.
To: Lily Evans (a)thehogwartsjournal . com
From: ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com
Subject: Hi
It's me. Peter Pettigrew, I mean. I'm ItsLeviOsa(a)freemail . com. That's a reference to
Harry Potter. That was the spell Ron said wrong in the first movie. In case you didn't know. How are you? I hope you didn't actually try those leftover cold sesame noodles yesterday. My share congealed overnight into something resembling stucco.
Look, I think some of your dry cleaning got delivered to my aunt's apartment last night instead of yours. At least, I don't think my aunt owns any leopard blouses from Madam Malkins-or at least, if she does, she unfortunately hasn't had much opportunity to wear them lately-so it must be yours, right? Maybe we could meet later for a dry cleaning exchange. Oh, and I noticed there's a digitally-restored re-release of Shadow of a Doubt playing tomorrow night at Film Forum. I know you said that was your favorite Hitchcock film. I thought maybe we could catch a seven o'clock showing, if you don't have other plans, then maybe grab something to eat later-preferably not Chinese food. Let me know.
Peter Pettigrew
PS I've been meaning to tell you, my friends call me James. It's a college thing that sort of stuck.
