"I would not be 16 years old again for all the Galleons in all the vaults in Wizarding Britain for precisely that reason," Angela smiled at Hestia, more softly this time, "But that is always what I liked about Gryffindors: You're just as nervous as the rest of us, but you act anyway. I admire that."
Sometimes she wished she could see the world as simply as Hestia did. Good. Evil. But it was almost never that easy. Almost. Even Angela would agree that the Dark Lord was rather loathsome as a human being. She simply couldn't dismiss every single Death Eater nor condone the effect war had on the rest of the population. She sighed.
"Perhaps. I have a few ideas, I shall explore them and send them to you via Gilbert," Angela was sure she could come up with SOME sort of communication method. It would be so much easier if everybody just had a bloody mobile. Birds were too conspicuous, "But I would like at least periodic reassurances that you are still alive and well, given your situation. Perhaps if I were to visit under Polyjuice?" If she was never seen as herself, after all, it would be much harder to track her.
"He has at that," Angela laughed, "I feel sorry for him, really. How many times he would try to talk me out of doing something insane, only for me to do it anyway." Poor Gilbert. He really had put up with a lot.
"Well then I'm pleased that people like you are trying to make it less complicated." She smiled, "It would be nice to be only concerned with House Quidditch matches again, wouldn't it?"