27 November 2001
To: Andrei Capper
From: Imogen Stretton
Darling Andrei,
Guess what? I’m getting married! Isn’t that wonderful? I’d invite you to the wedding but I really don’t want any desperate single people glooming up the event. Still holding out for true love? Let me know how that’s working out for you. I know you weren’t made to be alone; you told me that yourself how much you hate it. Gosh, I do hope you find someone before your soul withers and dies.
Still, unlike the rest of us, at least you do have a fall-back option. Your mother can find you someone! I can’t wait to see the day you admit defeat and submit to your destiny.
Love,
Imogen.
PS: I didn’t actually write this just to gloat. Diagon did a smash-and-grab job on Hogsmeade on Saturday so when they play you next round they’re going to be really, really angry. It’s gonna be carnage. I’ve got the tickets already!
PPS: Or you could forfeit upfront and save us the trouble. Though that would be a pity. We were hoping to use you as match-day training.