Owl Post

[All messages written with a Dictaquill, so no clues from the handwriting!]

To HANNAH ABBOTT:
Why did I wait this long to lose my virginity?

To SUSAN BONES:
There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves.

To MANDY BROCKLEHURST:
I thought you knew what you were doing! For the record, the holding cells at the DMLE are not that comfortable.

To LAVENDER BROWN:
So many men, so little time.

To STEPHEN CORNFOOT:
She smiled at him, making sure that the smile gathered up everything inside her and directed it toward him, making him a profound promise of herself for so little, for the beat of a response, the assurance of a complimentary vibration in him.

To TAMARA CRUMB:
I’m so sorry about last night! I was drunk. Also, I stole your broomstick.

To ALEXANDER DERRICK:
It is hard that a man’s exterior should tally so little sometimes with his soul.

To PORTIA DIGGLE:
One day this will all make sense.

To BARNEY DUNSTAN:
Last night was amazing. Can’t stop thinking of you. xx

To FELICITY EASTCHURCH:
The situation is more serious than we thought. Prepare for Phase 2. The password is ‘armadillo’. Destroy this message after reading it.

To SYLVIE FAWCETT:
Thanks for telling my parents we’re engaged. My gran’s already started knitting baby clothes. Don’t know how the fuck I’m going to explain this one.

To ASTORIA GREENGRASS:
For the record, a muffin top is not a good look on anyone.

To JENNIE HOPKINS:
Your tests results are ready for you to collect.

Yours sincerely,
The Administration Department at St Mungo’s

To WAYNE HOPKINS:
It’s all gone horribly wrong. We need to leave the country ASAP. Meet me under the clock at 6pm. Bring only what you can carry.

To HEIDI MACDONALD:
She wishes to preserve her dignity, put up a bold front. But that’s not so easy with her chest ripped open like this and her heart exposed for all to surely see; her heart, which is on fire and dripping blood.

To ERNIE MACMILLAN:
I like a man with the strength to flip a table.

To BENJAMIN MACNAIR:
When you have been just told that the girl you love is definitely betrothed to another, you begin to understand how Anarchists must feel when the bomb goes off too soon.

To LOUISA MACNAIR:
You were right. Musical theatre IS my true calling!

To TRISTAN MONTGOMERY:
There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.

To SALLY-ANNE PERKS:
You look cute when you’re asleep.

To ANDREW SINGH:
I know you said it’s over between us. But you’re the only person who’s seen me naked, and I think that means something, you know?

To AUDREY SINGH:
I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.

To RONI SMETHLEY:
Don’t worry, I’ve burned the evidence. No one will ever know. But you owe me now. I’ll be calling in this favour later.

To ZACHARIAS SMITH:
Even as a boy, hardly capable of connected thought, he had been convinced that his specialty, the one thing he could do really well, was to inherit money.

To MATILDA VANE:
All you need is love! And money. Money helps. Actually, forget love. Love can be bought. All you need is money!

To ROMILDA VANE:
If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

But—

I won’t kiss you. It might get to be a habit and I can’t get rid of habits.

To GEORGE WEASLEY:
TFRZ P JFPZB QAUKJ HUK P JUKCF SHYRNL

(EKYJ BPVVPZX)

To WENDY WICKERSHAM:
One girl is more use than twenty boys.

To BLAISE ZABINI:
I think you left your underwear at my house.