Dear Mr. Prewett,

I hardly know what to say but you seem to have all the right words. I confess myself a little bit apprehensive - especially as I had not heard from you in so long, though I know now it was not your fault, but still it plagued my mind - as I thought you must know more of the world than I do.

Now I'm beginning to wonder if anyone really knows anything at all and simply speaking from the heart is the truest thing one can do. If only it were easier. When we're together it all feels a great deal easier.

I can ask my brother to escort me to Hogsmeade in the next week? Kris doesn't care enough to ask questions so we can be alone again...unless that is a terribly indecent thing to suggest? I find myself forgetting what I ought to be every time I think about you.

Sincerely,

PS: You're a shameless flatterer. Perhaps you are a cad after all and I ought to have my brother intervene? (Please don't worry, he won't. He'd probably rather like you but not as much as I do.)