Zanna

[Faye Stanley]

Sister Dearest,

How's it going, old timer? I bet you've gotten grey hairs since I've last seen you. 

Mum's telling me not to be sarky to you via letter, but she's saying it fondly and dreamily, so I don't think she really cares either way. Just going through the motions. To update you on the goings on at home: I'm running out of fags and am sending money with this so you can buy me some, Dad bought a stack of books on philosophy yesterday and about a million weird postcards, Mum nearly set the house on fire trying to cook because she wanted to give me a break (fine break it would be, with all my stuff gone crispy from the flames), Sam called around yesterday and acted like a general dickhead (I mean, he works in Floo Maintenance, forgive me if I'm not in awe) and I snogged a delicious guy last weekend. 

So, you know. Everything's much the same as usual.

I hope your demon cats have ran away. 

Faye

[Suzanne Stanley]

Faye (Sorry, I thought about writing some endearment, then realised that I couldn't keep it up, and you'd probably be more weirded out by it than anything.)

If I had grey hairs, kiddo, you can be damn sure you'd never see them.

That's nice, tell her I'm very grateful for the thought. I'm sending the fags, minus one which I took as payment for getting them. Don't smoke them all at once.

I enjoy all this news from home in the full knowledge that you're the one who's going to have to listen to Dad spouting philosophy for hours on end, not me. How is our stalwart and respectable brother? As disapproving of you as ever? Actually, I meant to send him a letter of complaint - my last floo journey was decidedly sooty, and I thought he'd appreciate me letting him know. Thanks for the reminder.

Who was this guy? Anyone I know? Anyone you know? Do I need to give you the safe sex talk? (I hope not, because I think that would end badly.)

My demon cats are sitting beside me purring happily at the thought of your hate for them.

-Z

[Faye Stanley]

Zanna (I don't agree with endearment unless it's dripping with sarcasm)

'Kiddo'. You're sounding more ancient by the second.

I told her. She didn't know what I was on about. She's distracted by something artsy, I think. Cheers, appreciate it. And oh dear, that was exactly my plan.

I have a strategy. I either lock myself in my room so I don't have to listen to it, or I interrupt him before he's gotten into his stride and act incredibly interested and suggest he tell Mum or Sam because they'd be sure to be interested. I like it when he goes for Sam. He looked all hunted the other night, Mum on one side stuck in a daydream, Dad on the other spouting philosophy, me across from him making sarky comments. And yeah, he gave my jeans a really filthy look when he came in. I thought he'd be impressed 'cause I wasn't wearing a grotty band t-shirt, but that's Sam for you. And I wouldn't if I were you, he'd probably take you seriously and try and get a meeting with the Minister just to discuss sooty floo.

I don't know, I don't know, and I sort of know him now, don't I? Had his tongue stuck down my throat. Well, that's a slight exaggeration, he seemed to know what he was doing more so than the the twats in Hogwarts. And no thanks. Kind of you but I'll pass.

Bastards.

Faye ('Z'. How cool and trendy. You're really down with the kids, Zanna.)

[Suzanne Stanley]

Faye (Well, that was what I thought.)

That's the idea.

Dear old Mum. Well, if you must, then at least do it where Sam can see you.

Seriously, if you're hoping to impress our brother in any way at all, I think you're in for general disappointment. He and Dad can entertain each other though, good plan. To be honest, he can arrange as many meetings with the Minister as he wants, I'd quite enjoy him making the effort. If he thinks I'd turn up for any meetings, though, he can think again.

Approximate age? Where'd you meet him? I won't ask if he was attractive, since I hope I can trust your taste, however drunk you were.

And don't they know it.

-Z (More so than you, clearly.)

[Faye Stanley]

Zanna,

Your magazine might not be quite so trendy if you go on like this.

'Dear old' your arse. I'm the one who feeds everyone in this house. Don't know what they do when I'm gone. And that's a good idea, actually. He may pass out.

It's quite sad, really, how pathetic and boring he is. And Dad's actually quite amusing, but Sam couldn't entertain anyone if his life depended on it. And why wouldn't you want to meet the Minister and discuss the Floo Network? Poor form, Zanna.

I don't know, I'm bad at ages. Older than eighteen, younger than twenty-four? Out. And he was. And I was not that drunk.

Still bastards.

Faye (you're an embarrassment)

[Suzanne Stanley]

Faye,

Oh, I think it will. Not everyone aspires to sound like a teenager.

They probably live on burnt sausages and biscuits. Actually, that sounds like my diet. Feel free to come and cook for me any time you're tired of cooking for the old folks.

Well, him and most of the rest of the world, to be fair. But Dad is entertained by talking, so he ought to be happy. I know, though - obviously, I'd jump at the chance to meet the Minister if only I wasn't so very pushed for time. Actually, I'm not too sure the Minister would want to meet me.

Well, that could be worse. At least he was a good kisser. That all you did with him?

-Z (My dearest ambition in life to be honest)

[Faye Stanley]

Zanna,

Yeah, well, most people don't like stuff written by a moody old fart, either.

I don't cook because I like it. I cook because it's bloody essential. Jesus Christ, I don't know what you lot did before I was born. A bit of practicality does no harm every now and then.

What, you think all of the rest of the world is pathetic and boring? Lord, and you're ticking me off for sounding like a teenager. I mean, whatever, you're right. But just saying. A tad hypocritical. And I have high doubts the Minister knows who you are. Or cares. I'd say you're in the clear.

Maybe, maybe not.

Faye