Harry,
You may be wondering why I am writing to you. I am wondering too. You know, it's obvious, that you will never be able to read it. Not only that you are gone for Merlin–knows–where, also I don't feel like showing you all this stuff when you come back. If you come back.
You know I just feel like I must tell someone what's going on with me now, or my head will explode. Or I will lose my sanity. Not that I like the idea of writing down my all feelings, you know – even it is mine and definitely not enchanted diary. I just don't like this thing. Unfortunately it's the only way I can throw up things out of me, so, I hope that you wouldn't mind that you are the one who must… hear? Read? Who must know what's up with me.
But, for Merlin sake, you should know it! And you should be just here to support and comfort me as any other boyfriend would do! And you shouldn't be gone. And you shouldn't dumped me just like you did!
Yes, of course I understand who you are and that you've got "a stuff to do". And this is so damn unfair!
Ok, I took a deep breath and I think, that I'm over complaining and getting frustrated. So, to the point: it's almost a month after the school get started.
You know, I've never thought about Hogwarts the way you did – as home. For me it wasn't a place to be in loved with. Beeing in it was ok, I think, especially last year, with you so close. But now it's so different.
It's dark here, Harry. I can barely find words to describe it for you. The place you loved is gone. There are only walls from Hogwarts you've known, love. The Carrows are terrifying. You know, Umbridge was bad, but they are so much worse. They are Deatheaters, for Merlins sake, what else can I expected? But that what they are doing is just bad…
And we riched the point. You know, the why I am writing to you now it's that I can't handle it by myself anymore. I need you, even if you are only the figment of my imagination.
Today, at the DADA classes we started to learn the Crucio curse. And we practiced at a boy, a second–year Ravenclaw. A boy, Harry. Just a child. He was so scared that he cried, and everything I wanted to do was to hug him. But I didn't. I cowarded. He was there all alone in the class full of people, because all of them was as big fucking cowards as me. And that son of a bitch tortured him! He was screaming in pain and I did nothing! I feel like shit now.
If it had happend just two weeks ago I would be there for him. Two weeks ago I was still fighting. But today I just know too good how the Crucio tastes. And I am afraid of the pain. I'm sorry. I'm not a hero like you.
At the moment, Harry, I feel broken. I just came back from Hospital Wing – Neville is better. He is conscious, after all. See, Harry? At least he's still fighting.
Maybe, some day, I will be able to fight again. But not now. I'm sorry, love.
Ginny.