"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great,
And would suffice."

The letter that Ginny had dispatched to Hermione Granger earlier that night, never reached its destination – it was intercepted on the way by grubby, dirt-caked hands, hands almost unhappy in their gnarled folds of veins. Ginny’s owl returned as expected the next morning, no signs of its internal daze apparent.

[L'Sowolio - smell like the rose that your are]

[Ron had told her this might be a sign that she was 'aging,' and she had practically punched him for that.]

She was reaching for the morning's Daily Prophet when the glass of orange juice fell from her hand.

In another time - perhaps in the same -

Round her lay spilled orange juice, the glass that had contained it broken, cracked right through the middle.

Like Atara’s heart.