Daisy's father said, and she herself agreed, that the Weasleys were one peculiar bunch.
They weren't as affluent, sociable, and affable as her other neighbours. They never came to the local kids' birthdays, they never invited the local kids to their...
DAISY PUT A stone over her letter on the Burrow's porch, to prevent it from being blown away by the wind.
Dear the Weasleys,
Considering your lack of news for the last two days, I really hope that Ginny is alive and safe.
I hope everyone is doing okay, recovering well from the shocking news, and I hope you are supporting each other as a family. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Harry are well, too. I hope whatever ruse going on right there in Hogwarts is under Professor Dumbledore's control. I hope everything is going back to the way it should.
I hope you can contact me soon. Not knowing is metaphorically killing me. Mrs. Weasley, I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't concentrate on studying.
I need to know what is happening. Please.
Please contact me soon.
Happy birthday to my favorite twins. Wishing all the best for you two. I'll bake your favorite cookies and hand over your gift as soon as you get back from school. So be safe.
I love you all.
Sincerely, DJA
✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿
April 1st, 1993
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FRED HAD BEEN to countless Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this.
It was more than festive. It was infinitely merrier than Halloween, his favorite holiday. And he was buoyant. He meant, how could he not?
Everybody was dressed in comfortable pajamas.
The food was heavenly.
Hermione and the other victims had been revived, and they had stormed into the Great Hall, shrieking in glee, just after midnight.
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