Ced,

George and me looked in on you earlier, after we left Terry's bedside, but you were asleep. Are you up to a visit from the two of us later? And maybe Lee Jordan?

We have loads of ideas about what might be next for the two of us, now that the war is over. Of course, there's still a lot to do for willing hands, but now's the time to do some thinking and brainstorming about new directions, isn't it? George says to tell you that his life is completely different now than he thought it could possibly be a year ago, since he lost his magic. And that sucked, and he was plenty hacked off about it for awhile, but now he's thinking about ways he can sort of...work around his limitations, to the point he can see new ways to do things he thought he would never be able to do again. Like flying, for instance--he wants to learn more about Muggle aeroplanes.

Anyway. The point is, we're dead sorry about your injury, but we want to talk over some ideas with you and make sure you know that there still can be plenty bright about the future. So we'd be honoured if you'd think through some of this stuff with us (Charlie's another one we need to talk with about this, but the git still has his head up his arse and is refusing to see us for now, but don't worry, we'll wear him down eventually).

We'll bring a chess set. Or Exploding Snap, or dumb magazines or--well, not Firewhiskey, because if we tried, Madam Pomfrey would throw us out of there. But anyway, we'll bring our charming selves. So, up for a visit? If not tonight, let us know when.

We're seeing really weird effects: sort of...coruscation in the gloaming, bowed out lighting, suggestive of a portal or a door, but they don't stick around longer than a few seconds. It's hard to describe. We've seen a few of their people popping in, trying to evacuate, and we're playing Chaser/Bludger with them, fighting in midair as they circle around, waiting for those weird gaps to open, and they try diving through. One's made it through. Another made a dive, only to slam into something that snapped back just as he reached it. Broke his broom, and he slid down to the ground like an egg smashed against glass.

No injuries on our side yet.

Wait. Here come some more.

Pans,

Passing along a request from George: it's not Sunday, so it's not the expected Weasley get together day. But could you join us for dinner anyway?

Mom's inclined to go spare, as she still hasn't seen Ginny. Or Charlie, who has his head up his arse about seeing us, for some reason we can't fathom. AND today is Percy's birthday, which is making Mum sad. She could use some bright, distracting chatter.

Plus, of course, George wants to get some snogging in afterwards.

Ow, George, quit it.

you berk

Frank, Alice, Evelyn, Kevin and Terry,

Thinking of all of you today.

George and I have been kicking ideas around since we got up this morning.

Look. Both Bill and us have managed independently to create secret locks piggybacked on the journals' magic. We want to figure out a way for Ginny to be able to communicate privately with us. If she's allowed to have her journal. If we can figure out away for it to happen without Bella harvesting her mind afterward. We realise those are big 'ifs.' Still...

We can't use the Order lock for her anymore. Ginny was never on the I Solemnly Swear lock. Both of those groups would have security issues because of all the knowledge stored under those locks which mean we can't allow Ginny to use them. Bella will order her to read to them any message that they see has a journal entry that's headed 'Private message to Ginny Weasley' or 'Private message to the Weasley family.'

But what if we set up a lock, just for her to use, with no secure secrets on it? An age-defined lock would be good, like the I Solemnly Swear lock was. That way Ginny's hosts wouldn't be able to see the journal header. (That's why we're including Luna and Evelyn on this message--they could write to her.) Or maybe a group that it wouldn't occur to Bella and Dolohov she's a part of, and so wouldn't think to order her to read it to them. 'Gryffindor Quidditch Team' or 'Rising Seventh Year Prefects' would be obvious. Something more off ball. I dunno: Redhaired Purest Sparkle Ex-Models. Honey Hive Tenders. Something.

Maybe we could figure out a way to set up some way that she could write securely? Even if we never talk to her, and so there are no incoming messages for her to report to them?

If we did something like the I Solemnly Swear Lock, with a password, I don't know how we could get it to her. Anyone might be there if we sent her a Patronus, and I doubt Pig could get to her. Maybe someone has another idea?

Look, we know you all have loads of other things to do, and we're not asking anyone to drop whatever they're doing to work on this. Maybe everything she reads they're gonna know. Maybe this is hopeless. But we want to be able to noodle around a bit on this and we thought some other devious minds might be able to help, if anyone is interested.

Anyway, it gives us something constructive to do other than sitting around imagining everything awful that's happening to her. And keeping the Weasley twins busy and out of trouble is always a bonus.

This is for the press/public relations committee:

Fabius and Saul asked us to sound out the people we were meeting with on our rounds to find out what people were thinking and saying about the old Protectorate versus new Albion.

One thing that came through loud and clear is that no one believes that it's the Order of the Phoenix who's showing up wearing our armbands to kill people: 'Do they think we're that bleeding stupid?'

(I should say, no one in the camps believes it. We should keep an ear out for any refugees arriving from the New London area, to see what they have to say.)

Mostly: people can see the changes happening, but they're grumbling because they want them to happen faster. We think that keeping regular news coming out about progress on these various fronts will help people stay patient.

They've heard about the new banks being planned and set up, and everyone's eager to know when a bank's coming to their neighbourhood. Now that people are starting to actually earn wages instead of working as slaves, naturally they want a place to be able to keep their money safe (word is filtering out about the shakedowns happening in New London. Fidelius is one thing, but stuffing pots of money into the mattress makes the mattress lumpy. Besides, people want to be able to earn interest and invest).

The directory project for family reunification is generating a little bit of fear but even more hope (I think people are starting to believe that we're not taking down their names to make it easier for Bellatrix Lestrange to descend on their home and kill everyone inside). The only thing keeping some of them from picking up stakes and going out searching for lost loved ones is the hope that long lost family members will be able to find them more easily if they stay put.

There's a lot of excited talk about the plans going forward for new schools to open this autumn, as well as hospitals, municipal centers and universities. The camps and communities are doing a great job with the push for individual and community gardens, and there's a lot of hope that there'll be enough food for everyone next winter. We heard a suggestion from Beatrix Beerling at Sevenoaks: the workers there have voted to donate one day a month to the community labour pool to get transportation infrastructure from town to town up and operating again (repairs to rails, teaching the next generation about how to get old lorries running again, and so on).

I would say that there is a bit more willingness to trust us than there was even two weeks ago. We estimate that about 75% of the camps can receive programming from an Albion-loyal radio station now. And the people are definitely listening. They like the children's programming and the how to stuff, and music is appreciated, but they're really hungry for news. Presenting the news in question-and-answer format is even more trusted than just someone reading off announcements, particularly when they know the people asking the questions (like that program Lee did last week where we had the camp representatives posing them). Since the Protectorate didn't allow questions, the contrast with the old regime is really stark.

Let me know if there's anything else you want us to find out about, and we'll try to follow up--Frank, Tonks, George or me, I mean. Or Jeremy's lot: I know the supplies and requisition people have been taking the pulse on people's opinions, too.

The team dealing with the camps and their personnel and the team tasked with stitching together the network that's going to be the spine of our new economy are overlapping quite a bit. Stands to reason, since the camps are our source for new helping hands, as well as nodes for trade and the repositories of goods we'll need to move around.

We have a GIGANTIC map of the Protectorate Albion in its entirety, and Mum, Charlie and I have inlaid reporting charms on twenty or so spots on it. Those spots are cross-indexed to the twenty corresponding regional maps that lay out these areas in greater detail. (We have this all set up in the Charms classroom). These regional maps, in turn, are keyed to duplicate maps we've distributed to our information sources within that region. We've infused the maps with about six charms so far, and we'll add more as we find them useful.

What we have so far:

• Top ten resource available to offer for trade


• Top ten resources needed (shortages)


• Key representatives - economic (colour-coded to show if they're wizard or muggle)


• Key representatives - political (again, colour-coded)


• Transportation (the colours show if they're lorries, trains, boats or something else)


• Population breakdown (This can be queried to find out all sorts of information: wizard vs muggle, men vs women, adults vs children, able-bodied vs dependent, Protectorate loyal vs Albion loyal, and so on)

So this is how it works: say you have a yen for kippers and you want to find out which locations have fish available for trade. You do the first query charm over the large map, and titles of the regions that have fish will glow. You see that Norfolk has fish, and you do the charm again over the Norfolk map. That will show you which locations (towns, camps, cities) have surplus fish to trade. Or say you have extra fish you want to get rid of before it starts to stink. You can use the maps to find out which locations are looking to get fish. See what extra resources they have, and then you have an opportunity to set up an exchange.

We have the charms laid, as I said, but the searches aren't showing much yet. This'll become more useful as we go as our reporting sources embed the information within their own maps ('Yarmouth reports it has three thousand extra barrels of kippers'), and we can then draw upon those facts and figures here.

Our muggle counterparts are brainstorming to try to come up with a similar method for doing this a muggle way--without using magic, in other words. Can't imagine how they can do it, but Davidson's people are working on it.

Alice and Remus: would it be all right for us to add the fideliused locations that we know about? If you approve, let Colin know to stop on by to give us the list we have so far.

If any of you lot can think of other information you want the maps to show, let Mum, Charlie or me know.

George and I saw two camps yesterday and two today. It takes longer than you would think.

Okay, we had one lucky break, and that's something that we realised when the two of us showed up, obviously twins, and one of us could do magic and the other couldn't. When they asked at Dacorum why George hadn't been done away with as a squib, we explained about the neo-fidelius spell George cast. So yeah, we magically secured a place from inferi during battle that we used to put up an armoury where we made and stored weapons. And those weapons helped to overthrow the Ministry of Magic. That thawed the ice for the suspicious very quickly.

It made us realise: any wizard who shows up at one of these camps this week (without being flagged by the button network first) is courting the possibility of being brained with a shovel. When camps are overthrown, if the people at the gate don't know about the Order, they don't want anything to do with wizards, and who could blame them?

We think these delegations to the camps should be mixed parties: both wizards and muggles, in other words. By doing that, we're showing how we're different than the Protectorate better than any argument we could make. Asking how we can help disarms them, too.

Another thing we realised very quickly in our first conversations. Aside from the immediate physical needs, these people want their families. They want freedom to travel, and they want help locating their lost parents, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles, grans and children. In fact, there is already a lot of turmoil, people packing up to leave, determined to walk fifty miles to where they saw a family member ten years ago. It's going to be chaos as more camps turn over leadership.

Another thing that occurred to us: whenever Dad and Frank and Kingsley and Tonks took a muggleborn kid from a camp, they left a sketch with the parents that showed them the changes as the kid grew up, right? Dad told George once that those sketches would be used when the Protectorate was overthrown to help reunite the kids with their parents. We think the Moddey Dhoo kids should go with the delegations back to their birthplaces and reconnect with their parents. They'll be living proof that the Order has a different agenda than the Protectorate: each kid and their parents, can make the argument for us. Lots of those parents are on the button network anyway.

To facilitate family re-unification, they want some kind of, I dunno, record of information set up. From the sounds of what they wanted it to do, it would have to be magical--but they were very clear that they want Muggles in control of it. No one wants to give their name and personal information to a wizard and then tell them where they last saw their mum. If we could figure out a way to do that, help them magically, but put the controls for doing it in their hands, it would help us win back some of the trust that's been beaten out of them over the past decade.

All right, specific camps:

1) Dacorum. You asked us to looked for Linda Toulson, the filing clerk there on the button network. She's safe, and she acted quickly enough to get people to stop the administrators from setting fire to a huge dormitory complex. Still, there were scores of injuries and about sixty deaths. The triage stations at the nearby safe house really cut the death toll as people were injured during the fighting, so they were pleased about that at least. Linda said about half of the camp administrators fled, a quarter of them surrendered and a quarter of them were killed (included in the death toll). She says she'll stay there for now, as there's a lot to do, but the people there are used to and trust the button network, and so things seem stable for now. We'll hand over a list of what she said they need over to Jeremy.

2) North Kesteven. Gideon Knight. He's all right, although he received a cut over his eye during the fighting--they healed it at the triage safe house the next day. Blimey, when we told him our names, he immediately asked whether we were related to Arthur Weasley. He remembered meeting Dad almost six years ago. Reckon it was a memorable conversation; anyway, he said it was. Told us Dad was about the only bloke who ever came to see him from the Ministry who seemed to have an ounce of sympathy for muggles.

Things are okay there for now, but they're really short on food. Apparently the senior Camp Administrator thought his salary wasn't high enough. So he supplemented it on the side by taking a good quarter of the camp allotment and selling it on the black market. Everybody knew it, too. That bloke was one of the first they killed.

Gideon said he wants more anything to get back to Norwich, because that's where his family was, but he's too busy trying to keep things from falling apart, now that the camp is more or less in his hands.

3) Chipstead. Irene Young. Irene said, sheepish-like that she might have 'anticipated' the Jerusalem signal. The camp staff had a special banquet served to them that night--and they all fell ill, supposedly with food poisoning. They were too busy vomming to give Irene and her hand-picked team much trouble when the signal came. No injuries at all, and the entire camp administration is in custody. (And the lock up smells buggering awful. Irene says she might get around to arranging to have it cleaned tomorrow. Or next week. Eventually. Some day.)

We told her we love a good prank, and we swear, her eyes were twinkling like Albus' used to do.

She had her list all ready for us, and we'll give it to Jeremy.

4) Purbeck. Luke Palmer. Things weren't going so well here. Luke was blasted by an enforcer and lost a leg in the fighting. Almost bled to death. The camp administrators took the camp back for almost twelve hours until there was another fight and they were finally routed. The camp staff escaped almost entirely in the end, leaving a trail of dead bodies and burning buildings in their wake. About seventy killed and a hundred and twenty injured. Their most urgent needs, of course, are medical. The healers at the triage safe house wasn't able to see the wounded quickly enough, which made the toll worse.

I have notes for Alice from all four of them.

George is up and about. He been dead sore, and he has a wonky appetite, but Poppy says on the whole he's in good physical shape. 'As good as can be expected.' Right now, he's sitting at my elbow, watching me write this.

Mum wanted to let people know right away, but he told her to bugg hold off, until he was ready to say it. But things haven't changed since he woke up, so he's saying it now.

He doesn't have any magic.

At least we hope it's just that he doesn't have any magic now.

He's chosen me to be his amanu-whatsis, the person who'll be writing journal entries for him, the way that Colin did for Frank. And he gave me a black eye made me promise that I'd always make it clear when I'm writing versus when I'm writing for him.

We're planning on re-opening the store on Monday, and I'm going to play both Fred and George, as necessary, in the front, and George will be the other twin (whichever) working in the back. I hope George's wand won't give me too much trouble, especially if George asks it to behave. Anyway, we're going to try it, see how it goes.

His spirits are good as can be expected for now. Everyone's been great to us, Fu and Frank especially. Mum

(Bill and Charlie, Mum's going to head home to the Burrow, and she said that she particularly hopes that if it's at all possible, you could be there for Sunday dinner tomorrow. I'll be apparating George, so we'll be there, too.)

And now, if you'll excuse us, the two of us are going to go for a walk on the beach, taking along a certain stick for a Professor to chase.

He woke up this evening, about a quarter hour ago. He's groggy, and keeps asking me to repeat things I tell him, but he did manage to laugh when the Professor just about licked his nose off.

He's managed to sit up, and he's eating a bowl of soup under Mum's anxious eye.

As for magic, I don't know. I have his wand, but he hasn't asked for it yet.