Peter glared down that the note. It didn't take a genius to figure out why the little Potter boy had sent this. Well, fine then, he thought. He didn't need anyone. And if he had to push down the hurt to make way for anger, well no one had to know that but him.
It wasn't like he was going to miss the games or anything. They'd been a waste of time, and had only led to headaches for Peter in the form of new vows Snape had forced him to take. Bastard.
He considered burning the books, but in the end just bundled them up and sent them back, along with a little note.
Potter,
Keep the precious books. I won't be needing them. Turns out the experiment was juvenile and no better than what the infants in my class try to pass off as essays. I would advise you find a new interest, as your expertise in Arithmancy is about equal to your intelligence.