Monster.

Someone needs to put you down.

Happy early Birthday, Turpin.

I think the leg's almost healed up. I'm healing faster, but I won't look too much into this.

Bloody hell, let's not repeat that any time soon.

You are not a bloody whale.

I don't believe a word of it, for the record. Not like it should surprise anyone of you.

But I am, however, hurt a great deal by the words of someone far more attractive. Love of my life, apple of my eye, I can't say that I have ever been so hurt. Woe.

I shed a single tear.

Cold over. Humiliation can commence. I know, I'm a big, big baby.

Tonks? Any way I can make it all up to you?

Tonks?

I'm coming home from work early. Don't feel so hot.

Tonks?

Don't look in the kitchen.

She spent yesterday fixing her hair. And by fixing, I mean regrowing.

I swear to God, come near her again again and you'll see just what I'm capable of. And you will NOT like it.

Less ow. More grr.

Stay the fuck away from me, Montague. That is NOT a request.

Bought Tonks and me a lovely present. Weasley family and other selected parties will get directions to it soon, never fear. Right now we're going to play hideaway though. Harry mate? Sending you an owl by the by. Need to talk about some things after Friday, I reckon.

These things are ruddy bizarre.

They soak up the ink like ickle sponges, look!

Oi, so everyone can read this?