on empty rings around your heart

I need things to actually stop sucking for pretty much everyone I care about. It'd also be helpful if they stopped sucking for those I don't really know or like either (I suppose it's only fair). I get that war is meant to be hell, that it was hard when I was there, but it seems so much worse and there isn't a damned thing I can do.

I just want it to be over. I want us to win. I just want a lot of things I can't have.

I miss you, Dem. I miss that you can't read this and that I can't tell you all of the recent hijinks. (Muriel has told me that paisley will clash with my freckles, but she supposes it will have to do.) I wish that we could storm the castle together and kick arse, take names and get a parade in our honour after saving our friends.

I wish they hadn't Snatched you. I hope they get what's coming from them. I'll be waiting when you get out with chocolate. Or to break you out by turning your cell to chocolate. Whichever happens first.

I feel like I am losing my mind. Honestly, it got so terrible today that I felt nostalgia for detention. Detention, Dem. Clearly a sign I've gone round the bend.

Then I caught up on the journals and holy beans and toast, I am taking all of you with me. What sort of hell has befallen all of you? I need details. And I need distractions, so tell me how things are with the Home Fuzz.

Oh! And give me a list of things that you want. I'm going to try to see what I can sneak into the school via the post. How about from yours and Megan's darling wayward uncle Merytoile Jones?

DON'T PANIC!

I'm alive. I'm not on the train (clearly) and I won't be going back to Hogwarts. I figure most of you have gathered from the papers that my family and I aren't exactly the most welcome people in the entire world. We're fine. We're all fine except that we're trapped in hell.

I've still got my coin. I've still got my journal, but I'm not exactly going to in open about things, for obvious reasons. It was all sort of a rush to get us going that I didn't get a chance to say anything sooner.

Give 'em hell for me, okay mates? Think of what I would do and then do it tenfold. You're all brilliant.

I'm so sorry. If you need anything, let me know. Even if it's just sex or booze or whatever. Something to kick.

How much does your everything hurt? And I've got something to tell you.

Happy birthday.

Want your present sooner or later?

What can I do? Cause that was bloody awful.

Not only have the Carrows managed to ruin the bliss that comes from a cancelled class, but they've also added another way to horrify us.

And the term isn't even half-over. This is bullshit. I need a distraction.

Who wants to sneak me their notes on Apparating after the lesson? Cause there is no way that I can pay to take it. Which I think was sort of the point.

Sides all of that, how are my fave folks doing today? No one is down any limbs that I don't know about, right?

I'm taking the fact that I was the only person left without a partner means that I am going to be the chandelier or something else equally terrible. Please remember me fondly and not as a statue.

This puts a serious cramp in out 'just fuck it' epic dance plans. Figures.

I declare tonight a pillow fort night.

So we've got a whole bunch to contend with. Dance, Carrows plotting, IS madness. Where do you think we should start?