Hello, it's me, the one and only Elizabeth Reynolds. And I've just graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How do you feel about that?
Yeah, I figured you were a bit intimidated. You've got the likes of me free to roam around now, don't you? Tad frightening. If you were Peter Pettigrew, you would've wet yourself, much like he did after that amazing Shrine Hunt.
And not only have I completed my schooling, I'm also a registered animagus. Which, I must say, is bloody wicked.
Even my boyfriend of a little over a year agrees, and he doesn't usually find such things to be relevant in the very least. But you know what, World? I love him. Because he accepts me for the barmy human being I truly am.
I'll have you know that he's the reason why I will shortly be going out and exploring you properly, hopefully writing about my travels and getting published. Who's "he"? Remus Lupin, obviously. Quite possibly the love of my life, but it might be a tad early for that. He still hasn't seen Monty Python, you know, yet I'll occasionally catch him singing "Fetchez La Vache: The Song."
You're welcome, by the way. Pure brilliance, that song. And that isn't just me being stuck-up about it, or compensating, or what have you.
Sadly, I realise that this letter will never reach you, World, because it's stuck inside my seventh year journal. But perhaps one day down the road, a descendant of mine or someone will read this and think to themselves, "Wow, my ancestor Elizabeth Reynolds was quite the amazing person."
Which I am.
Anywuggles, I'm just attempting to fill up the last few pages here. As it were, when I went to buy a new journal before the start of term last summer, I picked a journal that had a few too many pages. That, or I ended up documenting much less of my seventh year than I had anticipated. (Unlikely.) So, here I am, blithering on about this and that.
And there you are, World, wondering why I insist on being so ridiculous and mad all the time. Well, I don't have an answer for you, so ha.
Just letting you know, I'm in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express for the very last time with aforementioned boyfriend, Sirius Black (who really isn't a prat all the time, I'll have you know), James Potter and his girlfriend (finally!)/one of my best mates Lily Evans, Bridget Jane and Anne Mackey (my other two best mates), and the ever disgusting yet impossibly entertaining Peter Pettigrew.
Sadly, I have no bloody idea what I'm going to do without these people around me everyday. It's going to be quite difficult.
Well, I won't miss Peter at all. He's a little twat.
I'm sorry, Descendant Who Is Reading This/World. That wasn't very nice. It isn't right to use language like that. Don't run off and tell your Mum you learned a new world from Lizzie, alright?
Right, well, I'll refrain from using such vile and vulgar language from now on.
The whole lot of them have started up a game of Exploding Snap, the card game I love to hate. While I do have a fear of evil paper cuts from the cards, it is somewhat entrancing. Bit of a predicament, eh? I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. ... The rock clearly being playing Exploding Snap and the hard place the fear of paper cuts. Yes, well, glad we cleared that one up.
So, World dearest, whatever do you suggest I do when I start off exploring you? I was thinking I'd perhaps backpack, like a muggle, you know, around Britain. I read in Muggle Studies that it's a popular thing to do. And in History of Magic, that bloody ghost actually talked about the Roman Great Wall of Hadrian, or something of the sort. Sounds fascinating. Perhaps I'd find some Runes or something to translate. Though I doubt it.
Speaking of Roman, I was thinking a trip to Italy might be nice. I hear the food's great. And, from the photographs I've seen, the men aren't exactly hard on the eyes either. Not that I should be concerning myself with that, since I am dating the most wonderful bloke.
Said bloke is currently giving me that "Lizzie, why must you spend this momentous occasion writing in that silly journal of yours even though I secretly love when you write because that means you peer at me from over the top of your journal and it's really quite hot when you do that?" look.
Quite the look.
Sigh. He is a fabulous man-bloke, you know. I don't think I could've found a better one.
That's quite enough of that silly romance stuff, though. I don't want to tire you with that, especially seeing as I am finally on the last page of my journal.
Not that I don't love my journal, mind you. Because I do. It's second in my heart after Mr Lupin who's tied with my parents. So I suppose that really means that this journal is in third. But that's still pretty high up there on the List of Things That Are Important to Lizzie.
But enough of that, World. You don't need to be bored by my silly ramblings. Not in this letter. No, you'll have plenty of books to be bored with. Except you won't be bored, because they're going to be the best adventure books ever published in the wizarding world. Which I suppose is a part of you, since you contain both the wizarding and muggle-ing world.
How fortunate! Not only do you have access to magic that I probably can't even comprehend, but you get muggle tevelisions and Monty Python too. I'm quite jealous, World. Quite jealous, indeed.
Well, it is now I must bid thee adieu, as I am almost out of space to even sign my name. And, since this is a letter signaling the end of my school years and my dive into the "real world", I have to close it properly with just the right amount of pomp and circumstance. So, here it goes.
I will see you soon.
Most Affectionately Yours,
Elizabeth P. Reynolds
Former Spaz Goddess, Her Royal Hotness, and Girlfriend of R. J. Lupin
So, I lied. I decided to add a little something to this after almost a year has passed since I finished Confessions. You see, I missed Lizzie just as much as everyone else, though I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I figured I'd write this up and post it after the epilogue as a final "hoorah", as I myself am about to go off into a new chapter of my life, and it's really quite exciting. I hope I managed to capture the Lizzie you all love, only she's a year older than she was when we last heard from her. Surely you know by now that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and I really own only Elizabeth, as mental as she may be. Review or not, I don't care (though it would still mean a lot if you did). Most humbly yours, SAS.