P.S.
Dear Harry,
The Prophet says you've been improving lately. The Healers are supposed to have put you on a load of anti-psychotics, or something. Are you okay?
Things are weird around here without you. Malfoy's been trying to bully me into joining his little clique, but Susie says I'm better off staying as far away from him as possible. She says Malfoy would become a second You-Know-Who if he had the power.
It's just starting to get really cold in the dungeons, now. I expect they're keeping you all snug in the ward, though. It feels strange not being able to kick you out of my bed every morning before anyone wakes up, like I did when we were little.
Father wrote to me last week. He said I'd be able to come and visit you at Christmas. Susie and Neville can come too, if you don't mind. I've already got your present: I got it by mail order from the Prophet. I hope you like it. Is there anything else you'd like me to bring when I come to see you? Like that practice snitch that Diggory gave you after he first saw you fly?
I'll see you soon,
Yours, Blaise.
P.S. I love you.