Mischief Managed

14: Oh Deer

^^^You're welcome

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"All good things must come to an end."

People say love is the most beautiful thing because there are no definite beginnings or ends- that in one undefinable moment, you are plunged into infatuation and tangled in ropes and snares never permitting your thoughts to dwell far from your love.

Perhaps it is because love is a blur, because there are no solid lines, that the saddest words on Earth are "I don't love you anymore."

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Another month of summer passed much the same as the first week- Sirius came over each morning, he'd watch me practice, then we'd spend the day in London or a park. We'd stay out late, as late as we could, and then repeat our routine the next day.

And it was most decidedly a routine; everyday we'd grow a little closer, everyday we talked and I learned little things about Sirius Black that I hadn't found out in five years.

We wrote letters to our friends together, (Sirius and I finally agreed to have all of their letters sent to my house), while sitting in the park.

During a particularly memorable writing session, Sirius was starting a letter to James while I updated Remus on a book I was reading.

Sirius's eyebrows were knit in fierce concentration and his lean, tan form knelt over the paper as if he were deciphering an ancient relic.

I sat across from him with A Farewell to Arms laid open on the wooden picnic table. The pages flickered in wind, the words flying and twisting until I pinned them down with my fingers.

I peered over Sirius's shoulder. So far he'd written-

Deer Prongs,

I miss you deerly. Doe I am having a relatively good summer, I doen't like feeling forests away from you.

He was now chewing on his quill and staring at his letter, deep in thought.

I rolled my eyes. James and Sirius had such a strange friendship, it was quite entertaining to watch their exchanges from the side, (Remus and I had done so for years and we had yet to grow bored).

"Running out of deer puns?" I teased.

"No, and it's very hurtful that you could think such a thing," Sirius replied, his gaze still focused on the half-finished letter.

He chewed on his quill more fiercely.

"You know," I began helpfully, "You could say-"

"Shut it!" he said, slapping a hand over my mouth. "This is my letter to Prongs, and it shall be filled with my deer puns."

"Fine," I conceded loftily and sniggered.

I shook my head, biting back another laugh, and continued my letter to Remus, adding:

Padfoot is being his usual, annoying self. I think he has separation anxiety from being apart from Prongs for so long. Honestly.

I glanced over at Sirius again. He must have been struck by sudden inspiration, because he begun to scribble entire lines of pun-stuffed sentences.

After he'd completed two full paragraphs, he concluded:

Deerest Regards,

Padfoot.

He signed his name in an overly-elaborate cursive scrawl, his loops and curvy letters an obvious mockery of my signature.

I sighed. He was hopeless.