Dear Hermione,
It's wonderful to know that the three of you are safe; I'll admit, I've been rather nervous about your journey. I know the constant moving must be rough, particularly the bit about the sleeping arrangements. You little devil, you know you enjoyed every minute of that. I'm grinning as I'm writing this.
No matter what you say, I'm still angry with Harry. Well, angry is a bit of a strong word. I'm annoyed. Severely annoyed. He has insulted me by acting as if I'm three years old; I have to take that from everyone else and I refuse to take it from him. I realize that he's doing it to "protect me". I also realize that he still cares for me, but I don't think he understands just how important it is to take advantage of the time we have. The possibility of death is around every corner, which is exactly why I want to be with him while I still can. What's the point in waiting if it simply wastes time that could have otherwise been put to good use? I'm not necessarily saying sexually, although I could really use a good snog-fest right about now. I'm talking about everything, about getting to know one another, about being together, and about doing things, fun things, things that it seems everyone besides the four of us get to enjoy. Yes, occasionally we experience a nice holiday at the Burrow, but it so rarely happens that I think we sometimes forget we ever did. I'm being blunt by saying this, but I don't want either of us to die and I not have had the opportunity to truly be with Harry James Potter. How would you feel if Ron died tomorrow, and you had never gotten to tell him exactly how you feel? You never got to hold him, or kiss him, or consider him yours and you his? It's depressing to think about, I know, and I'm sorry for bringing it up, but it's true, and it seems that Bill, Fluer, Tonks, and I are the only ones that get it. Well, Lupin got it after a while. Maybe Harry will too.
I do have some news, although it's not nearly as exciting as your quest to destroy you-know-who. Neville and I restarted the DA! McGonagall suggested it; she brought me up to her office and told me how important it was that we train people for what's out there, and to keep an eye out for future members of the Order. He and I went around school all Saturday, to recruit people. We convinced several people to come, Luna had of course, immediately volunteered, Seamus and Dean came, along with Parvati and Lavender, though "Lav-Lav" agreed somewhat reluctantly. Having anything to do with Ron, indirectly or not, didn't seem to be on the top of her priority list. It's ridiculous, really, that she would care more about the fact that the DA is related to her ex-boyfriend…well, ex-snogger's cause, then that the training will most likely safe her life in the future. She's so shallow. Anyway, the Creeveys were slightly over-eager to join, Demelza was all for it, and our beaters Peakes and Coote said they would come. Several younger Gryffindors that I don't know as well overheard what I was saying and seemed willing to give it a try. Neville said he'd ask the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and when the meeting started we had around thirty people willing to join.
It went fine, I suppose. Neville made me so proud; when I said we were training for defense he spoke up and said firmly, "Not just defense, Gin, how to fight as well. We can't always run away." I promise you that one day, Neville Longbottom will be Minister of Magic, or Headmaster, or Head Auror. He'll be someone very highly respected and admired, and he deserves it. He has fought with us numerous times, willing to give everything to us, to Harry. I'm really glad he's helping me with the DA.
After we explained what our objectives were, and reminded them what the DA stood for and that we were keeping the name to honor Dumbledore, I split them into pairs and we began working. There's definite progress to be made, but I will say, from our first meeting two years ago, people have improved greatly. I think Harry should be the one credited there. Overall, I'm greatly looking forward to upcoming meetings, mainly because Zacharias Smith decided he was to busy to join (thank Merlin!).
On to more important things. Hermione, I'm worried about the three of you. You know how Harry gets, he'll want to rush into things, play the hero; he would probably give his life for some bloody Death Eater or something stupid like that. Use your logic and common sense. You'll be able to tell if something doesn't seem right, when our wonderfully clueless boys won't. Sometimes I wonder if they would remember their own names if we didn't remind them. Just…look out for Harry, alright? He's rather important to me. Keep an eye on Ron as well, but I know I don't have to remind you to do that. It might be better for me to suggest you watch something besides my brother for a change.
Good luck on dealing with that goat-lover and thief, the latter can be a right pain in the arse. I hope to see you soon, perhaps in London? I miss you all. I wish I could be with you.
Love,
Ginny
She stretched and slowly rose out of the warm armchair in which she had been curled up. Yawning, she stuffed her quill into her bag and slipped out the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's chastising for being out so late. She began strolling down the familiar path to the Headmistress's office. As she turned a corner she could have sworn she saw a tiny disturbance at the end of the long corridor. She started and glanced at her watch, it read ten after ten. Students weren't supposed to be out this late. Then she reminded herself that she was out this late, so why would she for one moment believe herself to be the only rule breaker in the entire school? The movement was probably just some first year testing out their new dung bombs. But something made her feel like it wasn't…like someone who wasn't supposed to here was hiding, preparing to strike…she shook the disturbing thought from her mind, continuing to walk briskly towards the stairs, her heart beating slightly faster than normal.
Ginny reached the stone gargoyles at last, and couldn't help but feel relieved.
"Ginger Newts," she said clearly, and they sprang away from the door as the entrance revealed the spiral staircase. When she reached the landing, she lightly tapped the door.
"Professor McGonagall," she called softly, "It's Ginny Weasley." The knob turned and the door swung open to the sight of Professor McGonagall in her traditional tartan nightgown.
"Miss Weasley?" Her eyes looked somewhat unfocused and her hair was not as tightly pulled into her bun as usual. Ginny had the impression that the Professor had just woken up.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, but I wanted to give Fawkes a letter to deliver to Hermione."
"That's alright, Weasley, I was just grading some essays, and I—I fell asleep." She sounded embarrassed. "I haven't done that in years, I can't believe…normally I wouldn't…" she trailed off into nothingness. She walked towards the Phoenix's perch, where she began to prod Fawkes who had his beak tucked under his wing, his chest rising and falling slowly. He seemed to be refusing to woken up. Ginny took the opportunity to observe Professor McGonagall.
In the past few months, the Transfiguration Professor had changed. Her hair, normally black with only slight touches of white, was now streaked liberally with grey. The crow's feet and frown lines which had existed, but had not been distinct, were now fully prominent. The eyes hidden behind her square-rimmed glasses were as determined and intelligent as ever, however, they now held the look of someone who had lost everything that had ever mattered to them, who spent far too much time wishing that it would all come back, and be the way things used to be. Her posture, which had already differed after the attack in Ginny's fourth year, had continued to decline, her shoulders were hunched forward, as if trying to protect herself from the outside world. She was still regal, yes. She was still brilliant Professor McGonagall. But she also had the appearance of someone who was completely alone.
Fawkes was finally annoyed enough to open blearly eyes and snatch the letter from McGonagall's outstretched hand, perhaps a little harsher than what was typical of the loving bird. Seconds later, it disappeared in a burst of flame.
"Thank you, Professor," Ginny murmured, feeling ashamed that she had intruded upon the sleep that the Headmistress no doubt needed, and most likely deprived herself from. McGonagall was exactly like Hermione in the way of priorities: work came first, then sleep.
"You're welcome. Be careful on your walk back to the tower." Ginny nodded meekly, and stepped back onto the staircase. She exited the office, and began a small jog towards the Gryffindor tower. She didn't know why, but she felt slightly nervous. The cold, empty corridors held as little light as the moonless night which could be observed through the arched windows. Everything was completely still. She shivered, and pulled her nightgown tighter around her; the castle had never felt this foreboding.
As she rounded the final corner, a large, dark figure materialized in front of her. As the massive outline grew gradually nearer, her heart began pounding agonizingly against her ribs, and then she felt something hard strike her on the back of her skull. Searing pain, numb emptiness, followed by confusion, until everything went black.
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