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( November 1995 )
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NOVEMBER CAME RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER JUST AS FAST AS OCTOBER. It was a cold Friday night in the castle of Hogwarts, rain poured relentlessly on the school pushing every student to stay indoors for their after-class activities. Whether it be playing a game of Wizards Chess, studying, or reading, someone was doing something. Gingers after class activities just so happened to be moping in the Hogwarts library.
The rain was one of the things Ginger dreaded most about the sky. It always put her into a gloomy mood thinking all kinds of sad thoughts. Her parents were the main subject.
Things with her parents were complicated. She hadn't received a proper letter from them in years but every year they always seemed to have the time to ask for holiday pictures of her and Cedric and in return, they would send some of their own. That was the most communication she would get.
They were on an international expedition that mostly took up their time with being underwater. That's as much as Ginger knew. She was far too young to remember exactly what it was they were exploring and for what purpose and they were too far away and busy to answer that question.
The letters from them ceased in her second year of schooling. After living with the Diggorys for three years already, her weekly letter from them suddenly didn't show up in the mail. For a few days, she waited patiently for it thinking it had somehow gotten lost along the way or delayed, so she sent a letter back to them. And another. And Another. And another. And another.
By the seventh letter she sent it had already been time for holiday break to begin and she hadn't heard a single word from either one of her parents. She panicked. Cedric panicked. Amos panicked. They contacted the phone number the older Lunettes gave them but no one ever responded. Just until Christmas morning. An owl arrived for Ginger with a letter attached to its leg. The only thing it had been was a poorly filled out postcard with their picture on it smiling brightly. The back of it read Bonnes vacances, petite lune! We can no longer respond to your letters as sending them is now a bit dangerous and far for the owls. We love you so. That was it.
