Mischief Managed

My dearest potswabbling hornsnarker:
I do believe that you may have accidentally lost your body. Now, I realize that is a trivial matter, considering I have lost my ear, but I did think you would like to know. I must say, you managed it in a rather lack luster manner. I mean, really, a wall?For shame. And you made fun of me for 'holey'. I am afraid that is just pathetic. You should go out with fireworks. At LEAST.
You know, mum has been constant water works. We thought she was bad with that poncy git of a brother (sorry, old habit. Plus, he is.) Well, you've made her outdo herself. Whoever could have thought that behind that tough angry exterior she might actually miss one of us short ones.
By the by, I am considering Charlie for official membership in the SWC. Just so you know when I come get you.
Yeah.
That is kind of the point of this.
I am coming to get you.
Because, really, there isn't much point without you around. No one else is dumb enough to test skiving snacks with me. And who else could I have be a best man? Bill? Mr. Head Boy? Our ikkle prefect Ronnikins? I don't think I could stand the shame of it.
Anyways.
It is almost time.
I'll see you soon.
One way or the other.

Mischief Managed.