Prince Harry's flirty Facebook messages to Daily Mail reporter surface in privacy lawsuit

By Marissa George
updated on April 1, 2026

Prince Harry exchanged playful, familiar Facebook messages with a Daily Mail journalist, calling her "sugar," referencing "movie snuggles," and recounting a "weekend of naughtiness", in exchanges that have now emerged as evidence in his own privacy lawsuit against the paper's publisher. The messages, sent between December 2011 and January 2012, paint a picture of a young royal on friendly terms with the very tabloid press he would later accuse of systematic lawbreaking.

The Duke of Sussex, now 41, is suing Associated Newspapers Limited alongside six other claimants, including Elton John. The suit alleges widespread unlawful activities, hacking voicemail messages, bugging landlines, and obtaining private information by deception, spanning more than two decades from the early 1990s. But the Facebook exchanges with Charlotte Griffiths, now 40, complicate the narrative of a prince perpetually at war with Fleet Street.

The messages, first reported by the New York Post, show Harry initiating contact with a casual introduction and Griffiths responding warmly, complete with nicknames, inside jokes, and sign-offs dripping with familiarity. The Telegraph reported on Griffiths's characterization of the messages and her testimony about the events surrounding them.

The messages: 'Mr. Mischief' and 'H-bomb'

Harry opened the exchange simply enough:

"It's H, incase u were confused by the name and picture."

Griffiths replied in kind, greeting him with a nickname and an enthusiastic tone:

"Hello Mr Mischief, was indeed confused by both, effing awesome pie."

The conversation grew warmer from there. Griffiths wrote about wanting to repeat a social gathering they had both attended, signing off with affection:

"Can't we all get up to no good in the countryside every weeked [sic] d*** it?? Smooches, CG String. Xxx."

Harry responded with equal enthusiasm, calling the event "without doubt the best of those weekends I've been to." He pushed back lightly on the nickname Griffiths had given him:

"What a crowd. Never laughed so much in 24hrs!!! Mr Mischief? How did I get that title... I was surely no worse than anyone else."

In a later message, Harry told Griffiths he was unable to attend another event, writing with unmistakable warmth:

"I wish I was there sugar but unfortunately stuck in Cornwall doing Army stuff."

He added that he would otherwise have been "playing and then drinking u under the table, obvi!!" By January 2012, Griffiths was sending messages about a ski holiday and referring to Harry as "H-bomb." The exchanges stopped, the record indicates, soon after Harry referenced missing their "movie snuggles."

A cozy relationship with the press he now accuses

Harry has claimed he only met Griffiths once and cut off all communication after he realized she was a reporter. But the messages themselves tell a different story, one of repeated, voluntary contact, pet names, and social plans discussed over weeks. These were not the exchanges of a man keeping a wary distance from the tabloid press.

The timeline matters. The messages were sent before Harry dated actress and model Cressida Bonas. Griffiths testified that she and Harry attended a party together in June 2012, the night before Trooping the Colour, and messaged the next morning. A mutual friend, Arthur Landon, was mentioned in the exchanges. None of this suggests the adversarial dynamic Harry has built his public persona around in recent years.

The broader royal family has had its own complicated dealings with the British press. Prince William once threatened Fleet Street over the leak of topless photos of Kate Middleton, a genuine privacy breach that drew widespread sympathy. Harry's case, by contrast, now includes evidence of the plaintiff cozying up to the very reporters he accuses of wrongdoing.

The lawsuit and what comes next

The Duke of Sussex and his fellow claimants allege that Associated Newspapers engaged in a pattern of illegal information-gathering stretching back to the early 1990s. The claims are serious: voicemail hacking, bugged landlines, and information obtained through deception. If proven, they would represent a damning indictment of tabloid culture.

But lawsuits are not one-sided affairs. The defense has every reason to introduce evidence showing that Harry maintained friendly, even flirtatious relationships with the journalists he now accuses. Messages like these raise fair questions about the nature and boundaries of Harry's dealings with the press, and whether his grievances are as clean-cut as he has presented them.

The presiding judge warned Tuesday that a ruling would take some time. That delay gives both sides room to shape the public narrative. For Associated Newspapers, the Facebook messages are a gift, evidence that the prince was not merely a passive victim of press intrusion but an active, willing participant in social exchanges with reporters.

For Harry, the messages are an awkward footnote in a case built on the premise that the tabloid press violated his privacy at every turn. Friendly banter with a Daily Mail journalist does not disprove illegal hacking. But it does complicate the story of a man who has spent years casting himself as the press's foremost victim.

A credibility problem years in the making

Harry has staked enormous personal and legal capital on his war with the British media. He left the United Kingdom. He gave interviews. He wrote a memoir. He filed lawsuits. At every step, the message was the same: the tabloid press destroyed his life, invaded his privacy, and treated him as a commodity.

Some of those complaints may be legitimate. Press culture in Britain has a documented history of overreach, and phone hacking scandals have already brought down editors and led to criminal convictions. Nobody disputes that.

But credibility is earned through consistency. When a plaintiff suing for privacy violations turns out to have been sending "smooches" and "xxx" to a reporter at the very publication he's suing, and calling her "sugar" while discussing weekends of mischief, the jury of public opinion starts doing its own math.

Harry claimed he met Griffiths only once. The messages suggest otherwise. He claimed he cut off contact as soon as he learned she was a journalist. The weeks-long exchange, complete with escalating familiarity, does not square with that account. These are not minor discrepancies. In a case built on trust, they matter.

The full text of the "movie snuggles" message has not been disclosed publicly. Nor is it clear from the court record whether the exchanges were Facebook messages, text messages, or some combination, the record uses both terms. What is clear is that the messages exist, that they were introduced as part of the legal proceedings, and that they do not help Harry's case.

The real question

None of this means Associated Newspapers is innocent. Large media organizations can behave badly, and the allegations in this lawsuit are grave. Courts exist to sort through exactly these kinds of disputes.

But the emergence of these messages raises a question Harry will have to answer, in court and in public: How do you claim the press systematically violated your privacy when you were voluntarily sliding into a reporter's Facebook messages, calling her "sugar," and lamenting that you couldn't make it to the next party?

The judge will take time to rule. The public will take less.

When you spend years telling the world you were hunted by the press, it helps if the press wasn't getting "smooches" and "xxx" from your own keyboard.

About Marissa George

Marissa is a staff writer for Real Talk Digest. She is en expert in breaking down the political boondoggle into the real facts for real people.

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