Dear James,

It happened. The moment I had been dreading for so long. The moment when I, as a sister, would fail. The moment when Regulus gets branded. When the sickly trademark etches on my beloved brother's arm. 

Yesterday. It was the breaking point, of everything. I hate myself. Regulus hates himself. I could've stopped it. I could've run away with him, escaped to the order. But Dumbledore ordered me not to. Said it would provide him more information. He said he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Reg. He said it himself. Never have I ever wanted to kill that nasty old slug more. TO HELL WITH DUMBLEDORE.

But I'm the one to blame. I could've stopped it. Stopped them. Stopped him. I can't stop blaming myself. I've been comforting Reggae since yesterday, he was a crying, shaking mess. He needs me. I'm all he's got. I need him. He's all I've got.

He pretends he's got it under control, in front of them all. He pretends to be proud of it, wears it like a badge. A crown, presented to him by the Dark Lord himself. He keeps his stoic, unbothered act, unwavering. And everyone buys it but me.

Also, my parents, they're hoping to marry me off after I graduate. They've gotten a list of suitors, and the only ones I can tolerate are Rabastan Lestrange - he might be mad but not more than Bella, and he respects women- and Barty Crouch Jr.- he's a nice fellow, just a bit dark-art obsessed.

They feel like Barty would be perfect for me, because he's from a respectable family, and he's sure to get a good job in the Ministry. They've even started planning everything that'll happen after he graduates, seeing as he's a year younger than me. But I don't want to marry anyone so soon, especially not Barty.

If ϐׁ:•~tׁׅᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ ꯱ׁׅ֒hׁׅ֮ᨵׁׅυׁׅ!6 ϐׁׅ֒ꫀׁׅܻ ꩇׁׅ݊ɑׁׅᨮׁׅ:•ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ anyᨮׁׅ֮ne, ꪱׁׅtׁׅ'꯱ׁׅ֒ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ᧁ̵̴ׁ̣̪̭̦͖͖͎͎͔̰̺͓̤̝͂̓̓͛̋̈́̃̿̌͐̐̑͑̈́̅͂̄͝͝ɑ̷̵̸̶ׁ̧̯̲͈̦̲̲̮̜̫͖̻̼͇̖͕̹̹̳̞ׅ̼̳̥̱̞͙̫͇͈֮̑͗̾̐͊̿̄̔̆͐̊̈́̀̈́̒̋̚͜͝ͅꫀׁׅܻ. tׁׅhׁׅ֮eyᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ꪱׁׅn ᥣׁׅ'᥎꫶ׁׅ, ɑׁׅ֮nd ţ̸̴̸ׁ̠̫̱̟̟̤͓̹̥̳̦ׅ̥͈͚͍͕͂̊͛́̓̎́̓̓͊̀̾̊̎͆͛́̂͒͂͝͝h̴̸̷̵ׁ̨̛̹̠̤̟͈͎̬̥̪̮̩͇ׅ̘͎̞̜֮͂̋͒̈́̄̈́͆̓́͐̈́̊̈̽͗̈́͝͝͠͠ꫀ̵̶̷̶ׁ̢̨̞͚̙̻͓̦̳̩̜̜̤̟̟̤̫ׅ͉͓͈͍̹͙͓̤̺̳ܻ̖̩̰̱̪̠͖̆͒̅̔͗̽͆̈́͛̈́̒̿̓͆͌̈̋͋̓́̅̆̀̈́̓̈̉̌̊̕͘͝͝ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮'᥎꫶ׁׅꫀׁׅܻ  ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ꫀׁׅܻɑׁׅ֮ᝯׁhׁׅ֮ ᨵׁׅtׁׅhׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻꭈׁׅ ꯱ׁׅ֒ꪱׁׅꪀׁׅᝯׁꫀׁׅܻ tׁׅᨰׁׅ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮꯱ׁ. ϐׁׅ֒υׁׅtׁׅ ꪱׁׅtׁׅ'꯱ׁׅ֒ ꪀׁׅᨵׁׅtׁׅ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻϐׁׅ֒ᥣׁׅ֪ꫀׁׅܻ, ꪱׁׅtׁׅ꯱ׁׅ֒ ⨍-:•ϐׁׅ֒iժׁׅ݊ժׁׅ݊ꫀׁׅܻn. ꪀׁׅᨵׁׅtׁׅ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ•~ tׁׅᨵׁׅ ϐׁׅ֒ꫀׁׅܻ, ꪀׁׅᨵׁׅ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ hׁׅ֮ᨵׁׅᨰׁׅ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ᨰ:•n- ꪱׁׅtׁׅ. hׁׅ֮ᨵׁׅᨰׁׅᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ꪱׁׅ -:• ꪱׁׅtׁׅ. ꯱ׁׅ֒ᨵׁׅυׁׅꪀׁׅժׁׅ݊꯱ׁׅ֒ ⨍̴̬̥̫̘͙̩̼̪̐͂͊͌́͂ɑ̵̶̵̶ׁ̙͈̗͕̟͎͇ׅ̩̻̣̳̪͈̙̮֮͂͌̈́̈́̊̒̀̐̊̀̓̅̀͂͌͗ ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻꭈׁׅ, no?

Love, 

Cassie

Harry ran his hand across the letter, his fingers skimming over the  unintelligible words. With an inquisitive look he turned to his companions, "What d'you think this load's about?". Ron, ever so obvious, raised an eyebrow, muttering, "'Arry, I reckon its some code or something, I reckon that." "Yeah, no shit Ronan" the third entity in the room snorted.

"Well have you got anything better to say?" an annoyed redhead shot at her. "Of course I do, she must've been plastered while writing that!" she smiled cheekily.

Hermione, failing to conceal an amused smile just silently took the old crinkly parchment, and then squinted her eyes at the weirdly shaped writing. She shook her head, eyebrows furrowed "This doesn't look like any runes at all, do you think we should keep reading?"

"Any opinions on that, Pony?" Ron directed towards said person, who had taken to itch the tip of her nose to relieve herself of a sneeze. "What? Yeah no, I totally— AKCHOO— bless me, anyways yeah keep reading Hardy." 

"Alright"