Mid-July
Moony,

Something's definitely in the wind, mate, and it isn't the amiable and agreeable aroma of wet dog, I'll have you know. Buckbeak and I have moved just a little closer to home. No, not close enough to be familiar to anyone, but somewhere there are lots of tourists. I heard a couple of chaps talking, and the name Bertha Jorkins came up! Doesn't that just beat all? I don't know what she's got her conk stuck into this time, but they said something about her getting lost in Algeria or somewhere. Maybe Albania, but that seems just as unlikely, doesn't it? It wasn't so much what they said, though, as how they said it. Furtively, not wanting to be overheard. The big question I have is why the lovely Bertha would be such a mystery woman, and at her age, too. Call it instinct, Moony, but I smell a rat.

See what you can find out. I imagine Arthur Weasley is fairly high placed in the Ministry after all these years, so maybe he's onto something. Nice bloke, but that red-headed witch he's married to used to scare the piss out of me.

And while we're mentioning all the nice witches we know and love, who the hell is Dolores Umbridge? I hate her guts. People like that rarely get far though, so I wouldn't worry overmuch. Eventually they'll have to figure out that a law like that is just pants. Not that that helps you at all right now.

Remus, I can't say I noticed your scars at all. As I was lying there on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, with Harry trying to kill me, yours was the last face in the world I expected to see burst through that door. And the one I most longed to see, so it was the most beautiful face in the world to me at that moment. I'm looking a little rough these days myself, mate, in case you hadn't noticed. We'll just have to take comfort in the fact that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards look even worse, won't we.

I'm glad you found someone to make the potion, Remus. The mental picture I have of you skulking about Knockturn Alley trying to look sinister is quite terrifying. If I were there, I'd have a go at that potion myself. Bet I could do it, even if I had to let Snape condescend to show me how. Which reminds me, Moony. What's keeping you from joining me and Buckbeak here? If you don't have a job yet, why don't you? We could use some time to get caught up and, well, see where we stand, if you've a mind. Think about it and let me know.

Much love,
Sirius

P.S. Before leaving my previous location, I picked up these chocolate-cashew-caramelly things for you, but I moved before I could send them. Don't eat them all at one go, or you'll be a sick little wolf cub.