Dear Charlie,
It's your sister again. You must be getting sick of my letters by now, but keep in mind that you did ask me to keep you updated on what's going on around here. I guess you know already that Bill and Fleur have decided not to come for Christmas this year. I know it's just Fleur wanting to keep Georges and Rose safe, but I can't say I understand why Bill is letting her push him around and keep him away from the family. I hardly ever see my own nephew and niece! I hope you'll be here, though. I've never known you to let a little danger stop you, after all. You and Harry. My husband is, as usual, right in the middle of it.
The investigation doesn't seem to be going well. Harry's rarely home anymore; he's always talking to people who think they might know something or snooping around Knockturn Alley. Sometimes he's investigating another crime scene. They haven't made any progress toward finding Tyrell's hideout, and it seems that he may have a couple of goons now. I refuse to admit it to Harry because I don't want to fuel his paranoia, but I'm getting worried. This kid worships Voldemort's memory, and I'm afraid he thinks he's got some kind of destiny to start an epic clash with Harry or something. I'm just tired of this, you know? I thought we were all finished with this kind of thing. And now we've got another possible dark lord gathering up followers. I'm worried about Mum and Dad, too. You know they're getting on in years. They think that staying in the Burrow is keeping them out of the way, but who knows how Tyrell thinks? Maybe he'll decide they're valuable for some reason, with their connections to the Order. I haven't mentioned it to Harry yet, but I'm sure he'd agree with me that they should come back to London and stay with us for awhile. I think Sirius and Charlotte are missing their dad, and having Grandma and Grandpa around might help.
Speaking of Sirius—you'll be surprised by the change in him when you see him! We finally realized why he's so klutzy. It's almost laughable, considering how much he looks (and acts) like his dad. He just got his first pair of specs. He's been running around just looking at everything, and he's amazed by how bright and detailed it all is. He doesn't run into everything quite so much anymore, but we're thinking he'd better get used to his glasses before we let him on a broom. He's been begging, but I don't think he's fully cured of his clumsiness yet.
Well, I'd better end here. Charlotte ought to be waking up from her nap any minute. Did you ever picture me saying something like that? I sure didn't think it would come for a while longer. Anyway, I hope you're well. Let me know how everything is over there.
Love from your sister,
Ginny