Dear Mia,
Your brother's letter arrived this morning. Please tell your mother
he can have his stupid broom back, but I am enclosing his "apology" so that
perhaps your parents can see the type of ludicrous things I have to put up
with on a daily basis from him. And, though you would be a wonderful
sister, (and I would love to replace Petunia with you; she's being an arse
lately) my answer to his continual proposal is still a resounding: Over my
dead body!
I'm sorry to hear about Remus. Has he written yet? I'm sure it's
nothing. He told me before that he goes camping with his dad a lot, and I
doubt they'd bring an owl along unless for emergencies.
We've all known that you both were in love for a long time, but it's
so sweet to know that you finally admitted it to each other! Mary is positively
beside herself and wants to know when you'll get married and start popping
out lots of little Lupins! I told her that our Mia was going to have a proper
career and not end up someone's little house witch.
Let me know immediately when he writes you.
Love,
Lils
PS: Of course you know what films and pop are. Can you, Madam
Muggle, please educate the rest of pureblood Wizarding society? Is it too
much to ask that people don't look at me like I'm speaking Martian when
I mention a telephone?
PPS: A telephone is a machine that we use to communicate, similar
to fire-calling only without sticking your head in a Floo.July 24th, 1975The Potter family—currently sans Sirius, who had been required to return to
Grimmauld Place at the beginning of July—was comfortably enjoying the late evening,
listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network that played instrumental music. Charlus and