A/N: …the continuation. I know several of you have been begging for me to continue, so here it is. I have put a lot of heart into this, and the letter from Harry took an exceptionally long amount of time. So, read on.

Disclaimer: If you want a disclaimer, read the one at the beginning of chapter 1.

*****

Mr. H Potter

Ginny stared at the name. She had forgotten....forgotten about his disappearance. Where was he now? She questioned opening the envelope. She knew reading the bit of parchment inside would bring tears to her eyes. Nonetheless, she opened it, fingers trembling terribly.

Dear Ginny,

Before I begin, I thought I would let you know that it pains me deeply to write this. I am not sure if you have forgiven me for what I have done, but I hope you will take this letter as a mark of utmost apology.

No words can describe what pain and suffering I have endured for these past years. I have reason to believe that you can say the same.

There is no reason to explain the memories that I have recalled in mind during this time. I can think of nothing but why I left you when you needed me most. Percy has been writing non-stop, saying you, of all people, have been taking this the hardest. It was terribly selfish of me to think it was I who experienced the most pain.

Yes, it was my two best friends who passed. But I should have realized it was your brother. By all means, the death of a trusted family member is even more tolling than the death of a friend. This is even more intensely expressed by the fact that I have put the past behind me. You have not.

But Ginny, I want to help you recognize that you are at fault here, as well. You have done things I would never have believed possible, and I want you to see them now.

Percy has said you won't stop grieving, even to the point of ridding your mind of all the memories. I hoped the business about you becoming a Muggle was not true. I didn't think you would do such a thing. Why did you do it, Ginny? Why would you just throw it all away? Not even Ron's death saddens me more than the fact that you have chosen to ignore your magical roots.

Snapping your wand in half isn't going to bring Ron back. Pretending to forget Hogwarts won't erase that night, in which we all witnessed Hermione die. Do you actually think that becoming a Muggle will reduce the pain you are suffering? Nothing in that sounds logical. And it hurts me even more that you have abandoned your family, and all contact with old school friends, including myself.

I have listened to Fred and George and your brothers ramble on about how you will not respond to their letters. You will not call them. You don't make the slightest effort to help them.

I bet you think this is all about you. As if you are the only one struck by the sudden deaths of those two people I like to call my friends. Ginny, the rest of us are sad, too. We grieve as well! But are we becoming Muggles? Are we locking ourselves up in our homes, unable to communicate with the outside world? No. But are we looking to each other for support? Are finding ways to live on, even though a part of us seems to be lost? Of course.

All I am trying to say is that there are other ways to deal with emotional pain, Ginny. You don't have to live in a dungeon. Nothing would make me happier than to see you walk down the streets of Diagon Alley and buy a new wand. We would all be happier if you just learn to live again.

I remember you the way you were when I last saw you. Young, beautiful, slightly naive (but that could have been all for the best). I have been told you have lost that radiant smile. The brightness and cheer in your face has withered away. That's not how I want to see you, Ginny. I am coming back to London, and if I see you, I want to withhold that familiar twinkle in your eyes. I will be in Diagon Alley on June 9. If you choose to accept my advice, perhaps you will once again walk out into the sunlight, and recapture the magic of your past.

Harry

Tears were streaming down Ginny's face. Harry was right. She had made a mistake. She couldn't believe it took a letter from a friend to realize she was doing wrong. She reread one of the paragraphs: "Snapping your wand in half won't bring Ron back..." Harry was right. She had been incredibly foolish. Becoming a Muggle hadn't helped her at all. She thought of those days at Hogwarts, the days when she was so naive and foolish, the times when she always felt that Harry Potter was so much more knowledgeable than her. Now it was coming back. Those feelings of helplessness returned like a tidal wave of salty memories. Salty with tears, and with unfathomable pain.

When her shock from the letter was over, Ginny asked herself: "Should I really go to Diagon Alley?" She started listing the pros and cons, finding no pros, but a number of disadvantages. She would be so overtaken with sadness. But, perhaps a walk down that familiar cobblestone street would help. Maybe it would convince her to go back to the magic. Thinking very hard, she rested her head on the table, until sleep overtook her....

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione.

The light, it dims....

Herm....

The voice. How it fails to speak coherently....Ron? Are you there?

Don't go.

Ron. He is pained. He is grieving. But why.…?

You can't go.

Go where? Where am I going?

Hermione, please!

Please? What is he talking about? Am I upsetting him?

No!

What do you mean? Ron, answer me!

No....

Stop it! Stop crying! What do you want from me??

HERMIONEEE

Blackness....utter darkness....

No.

The light....it fades....where am I going? I seem to be lifted up, up to the skies....

No.

What is happening? Where am I going? Ron! Don't go!!

[screaming] You cannot leave me here alone!!

I'm not! I am not leaving you!! Look, I'm right here! I would never leave you. Fred, where are you taking him? Stop, stop!! Don't....

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ginny awoke, startled. The dream had been completely black, no visible shapes....nothing at all....nothing but the desperate voices of two long lost friends....

Ginny had had the dream many, many times before. When they occurred, it seemed the voice wasn't her own....like she was in somebody else's mind. They seemed to make perfect sense when she was asleep, but when Ginny woke up, she could hardly remember what it had been about.

It had happened a hundred times before, but before she could work out what had been said in this dream, she remembered about the letter.

Ginny thought of how she could get to Diagon Alley....floo powder? But where would....there could be some upstairs....the Underground.....no, doesn't seem right....although Harry did once say he took it there…an automobile, perhaps....maybe I could get Penelope to lend me her enchanted Oldsmobile....

But the Leaky Cauldron; surely you needed a wand? To tap that particular brick, leading into the Alley? Maybe the pieces would work....

"Mom?" Julia's voice took her out of her trance. "Mom, come here." Extremely tired, Ginny trudged into the other room, where her daughter sat on the sofa. She looked up at her mother. "You dropped this on the way from the mailbox...." Ginny stared at the envelope her daughter had in her hands. Julia was eyeing it suspiciously.

Ginny's face fell. Her breath caught in her chest. Her palms shook. There was no mistaking that heavy yellow envelope. The familiar green writing. No....the last thing Ginny wanted at that very moment was to lay her eyes on that paper...

It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Not…Hogwarts?

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A/N: Don't you just hate us cliffie writers? Haha…you should be glad, actually, that I did this after a measly six reviews (read: six). But, nonetheless, I did it. Be grateful :)

love,

fleur