November 4, 1975

Dear Sirius Black,

You caught me on a bad day. That also happened to be your sixteenth birthday. I don't have a single clue why I showed up at your party. I have never even spoken one word to you before. Unless you count the time when you spilled a potion on my shoes once which completely melted them. Just so you know, I loved those shoes.

The truth is, my friends dragged me over to the Gryffindor common room. Alvis and Indie love parties. That's an understatement. I doubt you know either of them—or at least that was before you helped me drag their drunk asses back up to the Hufflepuff dorms.

I have never really cared for parties much. That doesn't mean I don't like letting loose. I'd just rather not party in front of strangers. Alvis and Indie practically dragged me to your party because they thought it would be good for me to get out more. I had just gotten this letter from my mother saying I shouldn't come home for the holidays. She said it was because Waylon, my six-year-old brother, wanted to visit the countryside and she wanted to spend some more time with him.

I knew what she really meant.

If the bruises all over her arms and chest are anything to go by since the last time I saw her, I would say that my father finally decided to come back home with a gift especially for her.

Whatever. You don't care. Why would you? With your perfect pureblood family and your stupid perfect friends. That's why you caught me on a bad day. Or maybe one just shittier than the rest.

Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for being a complete jerk when you were only trying to help tonight. I really do appreciate you bringing up my friends, and I'm sorry for doing such a poor job at showing it. I felt incredibly bad about it all night, so I got up to write this letter.

I hope you won't hate me too much for how I treated you, but then again, I don't really care much what you think.

Adira Hassan