Merry Christmas, Lily – or, as I've heard so many times in the past couple days here in Paris, Joyeux Noel! Sirius and I are currently sleeping beneath a pretty, quaint little bridge near the damp shore of a little, not quite frozen creek in wizard Paris. Really quite charming, apart from the snow, whores, and rats. Scratch that middle one – Sirius quite likes the whores, the bloody hound.
I doubt you're much for the vagabond lifestyle, but there really is nothing like looking up at the Eiffel Tower at night, snow falling down with the lights glowing, a pack on your back and a lovely, frigid bridge to return to. Then again, there's also nothing quite like attacking your best friend under the aforementioned bridge because, like the thickheaded git that he is, he forgot the bloody hotel reservations (the prat). Ah, holiday cheer!
I know this is short, but I really didn't write this one to tell you about my ongoing trip (we leave the day after New Year's); I just wanted to say that I'm thinking about you and hope you're having an excellent day. You're supposed to spend Christmas with the people that you love, your family and best friends, so I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish you were here.
Merry Christmas, Lily.
—James