Clipped Wings

[Private from Death Eaters.]
Please, everyone, just stop. Unless you plan to offer up a meeting place next time you taunt a death eater and actually go and fight them yourselves, just don't taunt them. Don't try to make them mad. I know, I was doing the same thing not long ago. I'm a hypocrite. You can call me one if you want to, but I don't care.

Fight them. Physically or subversively, I'm not saying don't fight. I'd never do that. But people are getting hurt that have NO way of protecting themselves. They're in the HOMES of the death eaters you are provoking. They're sitting in prison cells just waiting for the next person to come to the door and torture them. They can't fight back. We're fighting for them, not against them, but lately we've been more like enemies.

Just a little discretion, that's all I'm asking for. If I can do it, anyone can.

[Hexed to friends/family. i.e. no death eaters. No death eater supporters. No Rita Skeeter. That sort of thing. All Weasleys are welcome to apply as well as most Order/Legion members, former teammates, etc. You guys know who you are.]

This is amazing. We're in a treehouse just a short walk from the beach. Me, Fred and puppy. He needs a name but we haven't gotten around to that one yet. Anyway, we're having the time of our lives. I learned, however, that I am incapable of surfing. The sunshine, however, is heavenly. I do not miss the chilly weather back home one little bit. I know we won't get to stay long but I'm certainly going to remember every moment. Fred is wonderful. He hasn't even pranked me yet, unless you count dunking me in the water when I wasn't paying attention. Don't worry. I got him back.

I think I'm going to go lay out on the beach some more, maybe take a little nap.

[Fred]
Come to the beach with me. Let's have a nap.

And by nap, I mean shag. But you knew that already, I'm sure.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEE!

Who: Angelina, Fred, and the Johnsons
What: A long-awaited reunion
Where: From Ang and Fred's place to Poitier, France.
When: Monday afternoon
Rating: PG?

People I've loved, I have no regrets
Some I remember, some I forget
Some of them living, some of them dead
( All I want is to be home )

[Private: Fred]
Fred, can we make a trip to France tomorrow? Poitiers? They were in Rennes until day before yesterday, but I talked to them again and they moved. Mum was getting nervous, especially since they'd sent an owl from there. I told them I'd try to come tomorrow, but I... I really want you to come with me.

[Private: Aberforth]
How does Wednesday sound?

[Private: Free Order]
I'm feeling better. Not quite up to running about the place yet, but I think I would probably survive if the wardens (also known by the names Fred and Trish) would let me out of bed to walk a bit. I can't stand lying around like this, even if I know it's supposedly necessary. I feel like the world is going on without me and I'm just missing out on it all. At least I'm next to a window. Too bad Fred keeps saying I'll catch my death if he keeps it open for too long.

Trish, can I please go home now? I promise I'll stay in bed. I'll make Fred promise that I'll stay in bed and not hurt myself, and you know he'll hex me down if he has to.

[Private: Friends/Free Order"
[Shaky and uneven, hardly legible in places]
since no one telLs me
ANYTHING, is evEryone okAy? Was anyone elSe hurt?

[Hexed from Death Eaters/Death Eater Supporters]
Everyone, we need to help each other out. I know I sound like a bloody hypocrite right now, because I am, but we've got to stop baiting them. Even me. From now on, if you see someone pissing them off, write them and do what you can to stop it. I don't care if it makes your friends angry with you. Hell, I've taken swings at people who've tried to wrestle my journal away, but people are going to get killed because the lot of us can't keep our bloody mouths shut, and I think that's been made painfully obvious. Seriously, if you need someone to air your frustrations with, write me. I'll get angry with you. We can have a drawn out dialogue of mutual hatred for the bastards.

And please, if I start saying something stupid, knock me the hell out if you have to. Hex me. I don't even care. I'm not saying I'll be happy with you, but I'll likely thank you for it later. And if I don't, I should.

If you can hex your entries from death eaters, do it. If you can't, maybe we should come up with a code word or a few of them for when you have something to say. Anyone have any ideas? I'm all for Quidditch terminology. Quaffle is a good code word, if you ask me. Not like anyone is having enough fun in their lives to talk about Quidditch any more other than that, so it's unlikely we'll get confused.

I'm not saying we won't muck up. I know for a fact that I will. I have a lack of self-control when it comes to my temper, and those marked sons of bitches are really good at setting it off. So please, knock some sense in me if you can, even if it's just through the journals. I don't think any of us can be expected to keep our heads down and not say anything, which is why we need to help one another.

[Private: Fred]
I mean it. Hex me if you have to. Take the bleeding journal away. Hell, maybe I shouldn't keep the damn thing at all. Just causes trouble.

I think I'm going to try and talk to Andromeda Tonks. Charlie said I could trust her, and I trust Charlie, so... maybe she can help.

[Private: Andromeda]
Would you happen to be free on Thursday?

[early Tuesday morning]
This is frankly getting a bit ridiculous. Anyone who believes this rubbish has utterly lost it, and you need to look no farther than the insane monosyllabic rants about killing and longer manifestos about 'heads on pikes' to see who the real barbarians and murderers are around here. If you think she's all talk and no action, you truly are stupid. They aren't called 'death eaters' because it's catchy. They thrive on causing suffering, on killing. It's the entire base of their power. A reign based on fear that if anyone dissents, they'll wind up just another mangled corpse or shell of a human rotting in Azkaban. Valid fears.

But that doesn't make it okay to not act.

( Private: Fred )

( Kates/Ang )

( Alicia )

( Private: Dean )

[Hexed from death eaters]
Um... Fred? When you come back, don't panic if it smells like something is on fire. I tried to cook again. Apparently that micro-wave thing doesn't like me. I needed to reheat the frosting I made for the brownies that I only slightly burned and it caught on fire! I don't know what was flammable, really... it was just icing, a plastic bowl, and a spoon.

So um... we have brownies but no frosting. Sorry? And I kind of thing I broke the micro-wave. I'm not gonna check and make sure because I don't want it to explode or anything.

BUT I MADE BROWNIES! If you scrape off the black stuff on the bottom, they're even edible!

( Private:Free Order )

Who: Angelina and Fred
What: Distractions of the R-rated kind
Where: Ang's (uncle's) place, Kildare
When: Thursday afternoon/evening
Rating: Oh, high.

( Cut tag soon )