• A LETTER •
Ginny beside a window in The Burrow; to a casual on-looker the red head looks relaxed, but to those who know her well, they could see the tense outline of her small shoulders and the constant clenching and unclenching of her fist.
She hadn’t heard from him in days and she was getting worried. Suddenly when all hope seem to have left her, a gray owl came flying into the window with a square of parchment on its beak.
“It’s dangerous right now. May not be able to owl for a while”
Ginny sighed. That didn’t make her feel better.