With a Little Help from My Friends

Letter:

Dear Ginny,

Remember what I said about Bailey being the most singular person since Luna Lovegood? Let's just put it this way: if Bailey keeps up like this, she'll make Luna look like your brother Percy before the week is out. Do you know what I found on the tenant's board below your brother's wanted poster (see if you can convince him to pay that rent, by the way...)? No, it's too odd, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'll enclose one of the fliers. I'm still not entirely sure I can believe it, and I have seen my share of oddities over the years. I'm going to have a long chat with Bailey about the rules we are going to have to lay down if we are to continue sharing an apartment happily. And no, I haven't found out what's on the shopping list yet, but I am starting to develop a mortal fear of that notebook. It seems that every time she starts to write in it, she gets a new crazy idea.

As much as I appreciate you trying to free my inner romantic, I'm afraid you'll only be disappointed as it's not there. I still maintain that Casablanca is simply an excellent film that represents the artistic attitude of a decade in America and features highly skilled actors. It has nothing to do with the fact that Humphrey Bogart was once something of a heart throb.

But where was I... Did you enjoy your date? I'm glad you're having fun, but I hope that it's not interfering with your training. Try not to plan them on weeknights, all right? I don't mean to nag, but it's important that your social life doesn't conflict with your working life. Do give me the details on how training is going, as well. Speaking of which, I start work tomorrow, so I should probably stop for now. I can only pray that I don't return to find the flat in shambles.

Love,

Hermione

P.S. Don't call me Hermy!

P.P.S. I've had an idea to make correspondence easier, since we send a letter back in forth nearly every day now. Give me a week or so and I may be able to simplify the whole process.

Enclosed Flier:

Nothing to do on Friday nights? Interested in taking up a new, challenging, and exciting muggle sport? Starting this coming Friday from 5-8 pm in apartment 8D, join ABSEILING CLASSES! They will be hosted by qualified instructor Bailey O'Callaghan out of her window. Hurry, limited spaces available!

Letters:

Ron,

Thanks about the offer for help, although since we have about a dozen real Aurors who haven't wimped out on the case, I would hate to deprive Hogwarts of its weirdest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since Mad Eye Moody himself. However, I give you fair warning; if you start to drink only out of a personal hip flask, I will be forced to instantly put you out of your misery. Since you've been such a good friend in the past, I'll try to make it painless.

If you have the guts to ask Hermione for help is stealing back your furniture from her own landlady, you're much braver than I am; I'll take a Hungarian Horntail any day instead. Good luck, you'll need it. Oh God, is there seriously a Mrs. Norris II? I take back what I said about coming over for Christmas; you won't get me within a mile radius of that place. Does Filch still complain about not being allowed to use torture as a punishment? How long has the list of prohibited items gotten? When he hits 1,000, you should throw him a party.

Wow, Ron actually eating at the staff table. Now there's a site I'd love to see. Do you still call the other teachers Professor, or are you allowed to be on first name terms? As for Snape, I never thought I'd miss him, but I do. He was a good man to have on our side. A terrible teacher, but still an asset.

You've got to be kidding me! They let the FERRET teach at Hogwarts?! But he'll be around all the time! Are the other teachers taking bets yet on whose remains go home in a matchbox? (Don't worry Ron; I'll put my money on your survival. However, considering how often that slimy git will have access to your drinks, I'm beginning to think the whole hip flask thing may not be such a bad idea after all). Look, I know you hate him, but at the risk of sounding like Hermione, just ignore him, okay? Seriously, he's not worth losing this job over, and if he provokes you into a fight that's almost guaranteed to happen. Even Dumbledore won't hold on to you if you're attacking your colleagues. Just avoid him as much as possible, and don't let him get to you. Yeah, he may belong in Azkaban, but you can't prove that, so there's nothing we can do. All you've got to do is stay cool until everyone comes to their senses enough to send him packing. Say hi to Hagrid for me, all right? How's Fang?

I hope you're enjoying living in the lap of luxury while your best mate is slaving away to keep the wizarding world safe. I'll try to keep you updated in the maniac Voldemort re-incarnated front. Read the papers, though, because it seems nowadays they know before the Aurors do half the time.

-Harry

P.S. I'm going to talk to Hermione and Ginny, but how about this Friday we all meet up in The Three Broomsticks? It'll be close to work for you, and it's been a while since we all got together.

Dear Harry,

I'd love to meet you all on Friday. Just let me figure out someway to make sure my roommate doesn't hold abseiling lessons while I'm gone (Please don't ask).

See You Soon,

Hermione

Harry,

I don't know, there are days when I seriously consider packing my bags and heading back to the relaxing and care-free life of destroying evil. If I have to eat breakfast with Trelawney one more time, only to have her give me dire warnings about how you and I both are goners, I may lose it completely. She's still totally off her rocker. Apparently her inner eye informed her of the new additions to the staff (I'm sure Dumbledore's letters he sent out had nothing to do with it whatsoever), and she felt it was her duty to descend and greet us. Malfoy wasn't here yet, so I was stuck. I don't think she picked up on the sarcasm when I told her that as a matter of fact, I had been feeling a bit under the weather lately, maybe I was going to catch a deadly virus because of the alignment of Jupiter and Venus in the eleventh house, because she looked positively giddy with excitement. It's so nice to be valued. Suddenly death-via-Harry seems like a tempting prospect.

I think Filch hit 1,000 a while ago on the forbidden items list. He tried to appeal to Dumbledore to search my things, but thank goodness Dumbledore decided that my privacy was to be respected. In the meantime, I should probably get rid of the canary creams Fred and George sent me, just in case Filch decides to go ahead even without the headmaster's permission.

Actually, I'm supposed to call them all by their first names now. However, conversation usually ends up something along the lines of:

McGonagall: I'm so glad you could join us, Ronald. I trust you still remember where everything is?

Me: Err... yes; I think I'm all right, thanks Professor.

McGonagall: Nonsense, we're colleagues now, so I'm Minerva.

Me: Yes, Profess- I mean, err... M-m-minerva.

McGonagall: *Sighing* Well, don't say I didn't try. If you need anything, just let any of us know.

Me: *Ears turning red* Thanks, Professor.

I'm telling you, Harry, it's really, really weird. The only person I can talk to without stuttering like a madman is Hagrid. As for Fang, he's quite old now, but he still found the energy to give me a welcoming slobber when I arrived. I think Hagrid is thinking about getting a new puppy to keep him company. I don't have the heart to suggest he gets something smaller.

I know, I know, I'll hold my temper around Malfoy. Still, I can't believe he's here. I keep darting surreptitiously around the castle, trying to avoid him at all costs. I took such a big detour to avoid his office the other day that I ended up paying a visit to good old Sir Cadogan ("Stand and fight, ye scurvy fire-headed mongrel!").

I make it a rule to never read the papers, although Fred and George send me the Quidditch articles. Actually, check out yesterday's, it's on the Cannons.

Can't wait until Friday, I'll be there.

-Ron

Daily Prophet Article:

Fingers Crossed for the Cannons

Once again, the Chudley Canons are living up to their motto, 'Let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best.' As their Saturday game approaches, that is exactly what the Cannons will be doing; hoping for the best! "Our new chaser, Talmere, shows real promise," says manager Steven Flurry. "We really think that he could turn this team around. We think we may even be able to close the gap so that we lose by less than ten points!"

It is with this promising outlook that they face the Wigtown Wanderers at eight O'clock Saturday evening. Twenty-one year old Robert Talmere was signed on in June, and will be actually playing for the first time this weekend. Talmere grew up in Surrey, and has been a Cannons fan his whole life. Although he was unavailable for comment due to extensive training, sources say that he is thrilled to be a part of the team.

However, not everyone is sure that Talmere is the Cannons' big chance. When asked to comment, Wanderers' seeker Timothy Ream just grunted and replied, "We'll slaughter them. It's the Cannons, and anything less would be embarrassing." The Prophet wishes the best of luck to both teams.

Brief report by Angelina Johnson, Daily Prophet Sports Writer.

Letter:

Dear Hermione,

What exactly is abseiling? Would I like it? Obviously this week I can't make it because we're all meeting up in Hogsmeade, but...

Just kidding! As far as Bailey goes, I'd say just breathe in and out a lot and try to make sure you're never around on Friday evenings. It's her apartment too, so there's not much you can do, other than do your best to be home at very different times. Except meals. You need to eat something besides takeaway; it'll rot that brilliant mind of yours.

Only you would worry about falling behind in my work when I'm going out with the boy of my dreams. Who is, coincidentally, you and Ron's best friend. So you see, all you have to do is marry Ron, and we'll all be one big happy family! (That was a joke, by the way, so you needn't hex me into next week. Not that I'd mind if you married him, it might distract him from his plans to ensure that Harry and I never so much as hold hands.) However, since you ask, I loved my date. We went out for lunch this time, much more casual, and then played some Quidditch. Next Saturday we're going to an actual match. Harry got Cannons vs. Wigtown Wanderers tickets. We have a bet going; if the Canons win, I get to pay for dinner, and vice-versa. Oh well, a girl can dream, right?

As for training, you've probably heard through the ministry grape-vine that we're getting a new commander for our physical training. Well, he's here, and he's terrifying. Seriously, I've seen You-Know-Who, and I've seen Allen "Trainee-Muncher" Rawson, and I know which one I prefer. He's no taller than me, but when he shouts he gains a good three foot every time. His face screw up and turns a little purple and he bellows in a way that makes me think, "Excuse me sir, but I think they haven't heard you in Australia, could you speak up a bit?" And the he glares at me like he knows that's what I'm thinking. It's really creepy. Catharine Waters and I have been working on the latest project assigned in the afternoon desk-classes. She's really nice, and knows what she's doing, and it's nice to have a friend at school. Apparently Rawson thinks we should all be able to survive in wilderness situations (Err, we're aurors, not the muggle army...), and he's hinted that at any day we may come into work only to have our wands collected, be put on the knight bus, and be driven to the middle of nowhere, only to be kicked off and told to find our way back. Isn't it amazing how a good leader can motivate us all to be just thrilled about getting up in the morning?

Well, I'm going to get some sleep just in case tomorrow is said bus-experience day. Good luck at work tomorrow, I'm sure you'll be fine.

Ginny

A Note on Hermione's Fridge:

HERMY!! LOOK HERE! ON THE FRIDGE! IT'S A NOTE FROM YOUR FAVOURITE FLATMATE!

Hi Hermy! I'm glad you found the note! I'll have to pick up some brighter-colored paper later on, so it'll be clearer. I've just got home from my Quidditch practice. Isn't it fantastic that there's a local team? I really think you should join; the fresh air will work wonders! Speaking of wonders, I've left what remains of my omelet in the fridge. It's all yours if you want it for breakfast. You need it, honestly, you're as skinny as a thranian! Anyway, since you will no doubt be all busy getting ready for work tomorrow morning, I thought I'd drop you a line about the abseiling thing, since I'm going to sleep in. They don't need me until the afternoon on Mondays. Speaking of work, you can't go in wearing the grey suit you'd set out, it's the dullest thing I've seen in years! I've put a green jumper on the couch for you. Wear that, it was a hit in my department, and I'm sure everyone will love it. Do you own one of those big swishy skirts? I really think green is your color. Actually, green is everyone's color. I think it would be just lovely with the top. But anyway, where was I? ...Oh, right, abseiling. I understand completely that you wish to have privacy. I absolutely should have discussed it with you first. No doubt you don't want the disruption on Friday nights. I'll tell everyone that we'll meet on Thursdays instead, when you'll be at work. That way, we'll be silent as a lethifold, in and out in seconds! Of course, I'm sure the group will be just lovely, much more fun than lethifolds. What I'm trying to say, however, is that you'll never even know we were there! Have a great day tomorrow, and don't forget the omelet and the jumper!

~*Bailey*~