The Dungeons

Don't make that face at me. ( I'm rather certain you can get wine here as well as vodka. )

Chickens. ( Really. )

Draco,

The next time you attempt to bring a bundle of joy into this world, I think it would be wise for you to discuss with your nixiecidal fertility specialist other living creatures to murder. Something less sentient. A very large salmon perhaps? (Because when a salmon ends up quivering on top of little clumps of rice, other salmon don't congregate and wonder about its disappearance.)

The coat, I think, is my purchase of the day. Not that there are not many excellent purchases.

Shopping with you, or in this case you and Pansy, is always more pleasurable than shopping alone.

No, I'm telling you that he'll be expecting me. And if he isn't, won't he be surprised, what?

What do you mean, I'm not allowed in after visiting hours? Do you know who I am? You must be new here, mustn't you. Don't worry, I have plenty of photographs left. Now you say you want my autograph?

There you go. Now if you don't mind, just turn around and go back to your station while I just pop in here to visit my old friend Ronald. There's a good lad.

AAH! Ronald! What a surprise to see me here, isn't it? Aren't you pleased? I can see that you are.

Here, I've brought you some sweets for the holiday.

Carolina, sweetheart, let's take off your party dress and get you into your nightgown.

Finola.

It is good to see you. I do hope that I'm not intruding too seriously.

On Sunday, I will be TEN years old. That's almost eleven, and that means almost Hogwarts!

So just in case anyone is still wondering what to get me for my birthday, which is a VERY IMPORTANT birthday because it's DOUBLE DIGITS, I have a list. (Here it is.)

Pansy,

Thursday evening's brilliant. Say half-seven? I could meet you at your place, or at a restaurant if you prefer. There's a brilliant French place right off Diagon Alley. Very small, but the food is amazing and I know the chef from ages back. He's a crotchety old bastard, but he's charming when he wants to be, and his Coquilles Saint-Jacques is brilliant.

Let me know.

Thinking of you,
Ginny

Dear Ginny,

Finally. I'm glad to hear from you. You do remember I had told you to stay in touch? And yes, that kind of touch, too. I wouldn't have said so if I hadn't meant it.

I did feel the world move a bit that night, but yes, it did not spin off of its axis in the broader sense. So perhaps we can risk it again. I'm not sure the space-time continuum is safe, but I daren't ask Draco.

How's Thursday?

Pansy

PS The rose is lovely. Thank you.

Dear Pansy,

I've tried to write this note at least twenty times now, and managed to convince myself every single time that it's a bad idea, or I'm mad, or you'll laugh at me for being such an idiot. Well, perhaps the latter you should, given the way I'm fumbling about here. I suppose I'm hoping you'll think it's a charming Gryffindor quirk.

I know I'm a Weasley and you're a Parkinson and never the the twain should meet lest the world go spinning off its axis into oblivion, but, well, we already did that, right? And the world's still here. And I suppose I'm hoping that if Harry and Draco can get past seven years of loathing each other without the space-time continuum collapsing on itself, and if Elle and my brother Charlie can sort through the whole Gryffindor and Slytherin conundrum, then maybe you wouldn't object to me taking you to dinner one night this week?

Ginny

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Along with the note is one late-blooming white rose from the garden at Celyn Cottage.

Harry?

Everything is all right, then? I was sure it would be. Issy is really so reliable, I feel as if we should reward her in some way because I don't know what I would do...

Everything was all right, wasn't it?