[Bits of crumpled parchment found scattered about Luna's bedroom.]

 Harry,

 I'm sorry I made a total arse of

 Harry,

 Please ignore everything I said last night.  I've never considered you to be more than a frie

Harry,

Don't hate me.

[The entire entry is a bit tear stained.]

 I made it home.  Barely.  I was shaking so hard I'm surprised I didn't splinch myself.  That would have been the perfect end to the perfect evening, wouldn't it?

 I haven't lost my temper like that in a long time.  Since after Mummy died, really.  But could anyone blame me?  Harry and Draco were using me in their petty little fight.  Just when I think I'm making headway with Harry, when I think I have a true friend in Draco, they use me like that.  How could they? 

 I feel sick, again.  I've already vommed my toenails, I think.  There can't be anything left in my stomach.

 I'm glad Daddy is out with Medi-Witch Dane tonight.  He doesn't need to see me like this.  The last time...  Well, I'm older now and can deal with my emotions better, surely.  Even now the anger has faded and I'm beginning to feel that overwhelming sense of embarrassment.  I want to bury my head in the sand, snuggle Artan, and sleep now.  A grown girl, needing the comfort of a stuffed bear.  If Susan Bones can do it, so can I.  For tonight, at least.  Tomorrow he'll go back into the chest.  After I feel better.

 Now, I just want sleep.  I have no more tears.  I surely can't vomit any more.  Tomorrow will be better.  What was it that Colin always said?  "I'll think about it tomorrow."  I don't want to think about it ever again.

 I surely blundered up any chance I might have had with him.  At the moment I'm not sure that's a bad thing.  I still  He

 Oh!  Circe's Tit!  I told him I fancied him!

 I'm never getting out of bed again.  At least then I won't doing anything else to make an arse of myself.

Later:

 Was lying in bed, torturing myself over the events of the evening when Draco's words came back to me.  Something happened between he and Ginny.  He all but said so.  And he did something to screw it up.  Git.  Must go to Catter's End soon to find out exactly what happened.

Dear Daddy,

 Contrary to the Ministry's pamplet on the area, Siberia is rather lovely once you get used to the isolation.   Dasha Chikov, the Minstry Liason assigned to me, still grumbles about the snow every morning and the fact that her tent doesn't have something called Centrifical Heat, which is apparently some bit of tenchology muggles in developed to replace heating charms.   Of course, we don't have elek-tri-city to run the machine, but Dasha still complains about the lack.

 We're currently in the Byrranga Mountains, overlooking the Kara Sea.  I'm sure that this is the perfect spot for capturing evidence of the woaden tetexrin.   I, however, am not as confident in the charms that were cast to keep the camera and film warm.  Yesterday I checked the equipment and found that the film had developed a solid layer of ice.   I defrosted what canisters I could salvage and can only hope that the cold did not do irreparable harm.  Arkadiy, our guide on this trip, says that the weather often breaks through even the most powerful of heating charms.  I trust his word and sixty years of experience and thank my luck that as of yet my personal heating charms have held up.   Just in case, I renew them every evening.

 Owl post here is spotty at best, no doubt because the canack family that lives in the mountains has been grabbing owls.   Dasha receives the Tiski Tribunal once a week, usually a copy that is at least a week out of date.  She obligingly reads the articles aloud for me, as they are inveritably in Russian.

 Is it true?  Has the Ministry declared that all the Death Eaters were under undue influence and arranged for their release?   I find it difficult to imagine that Minister Scrimgeour was taken in by the pleadings of murderers such as the Lestranges.  Obviously a kreedle bug must have been placed in his ear, making him believe anything that he is told.   I'm sure it would not be hard for a secret supporter of You Know Who to gain access to one.  As you yourself told me, He Who Shall Not Be Named and his Death Eaters had a breeding population during the first war.

 I must sign off now, as Dasha is calling me to dinner.  I hope to return, triumphant, by the end of the month.  

Much love,
Luna