16th July 1980
Dear Sirius,
So it's agreed. Should my liver ever fall victim to the ridiculous amounts of Firewhiskey and that Muggle stuff you've been giving me, I shall take some of yours. I consider it apt payment for putting up with your endless messing for all these years. Though I must admit, I find myself rather at a loss without it.
The situation here isn't exactly fantastic. The others a little…sceptical of us. They think we will fail rather unspectacularly and we'll jump like rats for the nearest lifeboat. They are convinced I'll return to them once Voldemort is in power, begging them to allow me to return. To be honest, I'm finding it a little hard to doubt them at the moment.
And I swear to Merlin Sirius, if you're hurt or you've got yourself into some ludicrously dangerous situation, you needn't worry - I'll kill you myself.
I'm afraid I'll have to finish here; my supply of ink is a bit limited.
All my love, and a promise of my liver,
Remus