Hey, Remus!

The moment Harry started to push himself upright, Maria knew exactly what was about to happen. With practiced ease, she stepped forward, planted both hands on his shoulders, and shoved him right back down onto the hospital bed.
"Oh no, you don't," she said firmly.
Harry blinked up at her, startled.
"Oi!" he protested, attempting to sit up again. Maria simply pushed him down once more.
"Do you want your skull to crack open again?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I want to find McLaggen and kill him," Harry grumbled.
From the next bed over, Ron snorted.
"Well, I'd help you, but I almost died this week, so I think Mum would kill me if I got involved in a murder plot."
Maria sighed in exaggerated patience.
"I get it, really, but unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey would put my head on a pike if I let you sneak out." She tilted her head. "And honestly, I'm a little scared of her."
"I heard that, Miss Scamander," came Pomfrey's voice from across the room.
Maria winced. Ron grinned. Harry scowled.
And then, as if on cue, Madam Pomfrey bustled up to them, wand already raised like a weapon.
"Potter, you will stay in that bed until I discharge you, or I shall call the Headmaster."
Maria raised her hands in surrender.
"See? Not my fault."
Harry groaned and flopped back against the pillows, scowling at the ceiling. Maria shared a glance with Ron, and they both smirked.
"So, McLaggen?" she asked innocently, pulling up a chair. "What exactly happened? Did he actually think the Beater's bat was for hitting teammates instead of the Bludger?"
Ron immediately launched into a dramatic retelling of the disaster, complete with wild hand gestures and a reenactment of McLaggen's "utter incompetence." Harry, despite himself, started to look less like he wanted to commit murder and more like he wanted to bury his face in his pillow. Maria leaned in conspiratorially.
"Don't worry, Harry. I promise we won't tell anyone you got taken out by friendly fire."
Ron snickered. Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands. Maria grinned. If she had to bite her tongue about Malfoy, at least she could keep Harry from storming out of bed and making things worse.

A week later, Maria sat at her small desk in the hospital wing, candlelight flickering over parchment as she dipped her quill into the inkpot. It was late, and Madam Pomfrey had already retired for the night, leaving her alone with only the soft rustling of the wind against the windows.

Dear Moony,
I have officially survived another week without falling down the moving staircases again, but the temptation to jinx them out of sheer spite remains strong. If they ever find my body at the bottom of one, tell everyone I lost the battle but won the war.
McLaggen nearly finished off Harry this week—if you could have seen Madam Pomfrey's face when she realized she had two Weasley-related hospitalizations in less than three days, you'd have laughed. I think she considered hexing Slughorn just for sport. Harry woke up furious and tried to storm out, but she gave him The Look (you know the one) and he actually listened. It was a miracle.
Speaking of miracles, did you ever think I'd end up bonding with half the staff? Because I certainly didn't. Flitwick is an actual delight—he's been sneaking me lessons when he has time, just small charms here and there to help me sharpen my magic. He says I have "potential," which is generous of him considering I nearly set my sleeve on fire in my first attempt at a simple warming charm.
Speaking of miracles, I think I might be officially inducted into the Slug Club. I say "might" because I haven't technically accepted anything, but Slughorn has taken to calling me his "most fascinating young Scamander" and keeps inviting me to his little gatherings. I haven't gone—yet—but I feel like it's only a matter of time before he corners me with a tray of crystallized pineapple.
And Hagrid—oh, Remus. I should have known it was a trap when he invited me for tea. He told me he had a small pet that needed looking after for a few days. Turns out it's a bloody griffin. He named it Munchkin. Munchkin, Remus. I'll never be the same.
Madam Pomfrey has properly taken me under her wing. She reminds me of you, you know—always grumbling about reckless behavior but still the first to patch people up. She acts like she doesn't care about students throwing themselves into danger, but I've caught her checking on them after they've gone to bed.
But the truth is, I miss you. I know you're going to say something rational about patience and how we'll be fine, but it doesn't make it easier. It's not fair that Dumbledore gets to see you and I don't.
You always keep your emotions so in check, but I know you feel it too. I told you how I wish I had half your self-control. Then again, if you had half my impulsiveness, we'd be doomed.
抖阴社区 soon. I'll be waiting.
Your Mary
P.S. – If I ever go missing, tell the world that Hagrid's "tiny" creature did me in.