January 22, 1971

Dear Teddy,

You are considerably smart for a Hufflepuff. Yes, I suppose my closing was rather affectionate. Fine. I agree to your proposition. Andromeda Cassiopeia Black is now friends with Theodore Thomas Tonks. TTT, really? Your parents gave you all "t"s for initials? Sad.

Nova didn't give the scrap to my parents! You would never guess this, but Nova is a mother! I found her nest up in the abandoned scrying tower. Can you believe it? She stole your letter for her nest. She has four beautiful Ferruginous Pygmy Owl chicks. There were five eggs, but one didn't make it. I have named them as follows:

Nebula- a girl, most definitely, and quite feisty.

Dwarf- a boy, but incredibly small, and shy. I'm worried he won't make it.

Asteroid- boy, large and noisy.

Meteor- boy, almost an exact twin of Asteroid, except the stripe down is head.

And the little egg that never hatched is "Black Hole".

I was wondering if you might like one, once they grow up. I'm sure they'll be rather magnificent.

Thank you so much for lunch. I had a great time, and apparently, so did Evie. She will not shut up about Aiden Finch. I had a lovely time. Truly. I do have one question though. Are Arthur and Molly dating? She's all he seems to speak about. Quite adorable, when you think about it. Oh! I appreciate you not eating five sandwiches. I fear I will never be able to look at such food the same way again.

I told you. It. Is. A. Basement. A large basement used when we disbehave, yes. Dungeon, no. I have never been hurt, per say. Just locked in there for a few hours when I use slang or tease the governess. It really is not a big deal. Truly. But, I suppose you are right. I really do not want to be a Black. My mother says I will not be soon, but she doesn't understand. I will always be a Black. I will be on the tree. I will be forced to go to formal dinners. Did you know I have never used my bare hands to eat anything besides a sandwich? I guess… I never really thought about the tree. My family just made it seem like a crime worse than death, you know. I guess it wouldn't be that bad. I could be friends with you, and being blasted off wouldn't hurt. But you could still get hurt, Ted. I can't let that be on me.

Teddy! That's brilliant! You could make me look like someone else, and we could go to Hogsmede! Maybe we could do Evie too, and Aiden, Arthur, and Molly could come along! Next Saturday, is a Hogsmede weekend, if you're ready.

Ted, thank you. Goodness knows, I might have to take you up on your offer soon. Easter break is coming up, then the next two summers. I'm not sure I can bear my family talking about "mudbloods" if all the while I'm writing you.

You like a girl? Oh, Ted, that's adorable! How do you know she doesn't like you? Have you told her?

Well, I suppose I will match your own admission, since that seems the pattern here.

I think I may like a boy, but I don't talk to him enough to know for sure.

Your friend,

'Dromeda

Assez avec le donjon!