On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur.

Happy Christmas to all; friends, family, and my city.

May you have peace, health, and happiness for the holidays, and the future.

To all of those who've been lost in this, rest in peace.

To all of those who are still living, stay strong, and I hope that we all can find peace in the future, when this has ended.

Please, if you have the names of anyone who has died, forward them to Christopher Warrington. He is the Registrar, and is keeping track of the dead. I want to make sure, when this is all over, we have an accurate record of who was here. I don't know what we'll do to memorialize them, but something will be done, since they can't all be buried.

I know that if I was to come to the city later, I would want to be able to ask and see if my family was there. I don't want people to be left wondering forever if their family is still out there if we can help it.

We're trying to make sure food is getting distributed, but it's hard, with people being afraid to go into the city, and others being encouraged not to leave their homes if anyone is sick. We're managing as best we can, and I suppose that's all anyone can do.

Thank you to everyone who is doing what they can to help. I hope that this all ends soon, but I'm honestly terrified of what the eventual cost will be. Every day the death toll climbs higher, into the thousands now as far as I can tell, and no end in sight.

There's no time to rest, but I'm tired. So damn tired.

It seems like things are starting to calm down again after the fire, at least on some levels. Maybe it's just that I've fallen into a new pattern of "normal" that seems to involve a lot of going from place to place, trying to make sure that if people need help it's being provided, checking in at the school where the children are still sheltered until they can be moved back to the Minster or housed elsewhere, and talking to as many people as possible, just trying to figure out where there are still gaps in what people need and what they have.

I've talked to a lot of mundanes in the past few days, because it was pointed out to me that I had up until this point neglected to really try to find out what their concerns are. It's interesting to see how things are similar and how they differ on each side of the wall. I don't tell people I'm a wizard, generally, although a few have asked. Reactions differ when they find out, but for the most part, no one has reacted horribly. A few have stopped talking to me, but no one's threatened violence, so I guess that's a step in the right direction.

It was really heartening to see people pull together to get things done, regardless of what side of the wall you come from, and who you report to for your work, and who you would go down the pub and have a pint with. I'm hoping that in the future, we'll be able to get to that point where people are working together on that level without needing a disaster to focus on to put our differences aside.

I hope everyone else is doing well, and that anyone who was injured is on the mend. I suspect I need more sleep than I'm getting, but at least I've stopped coughing. Despite my best efforts to keep my face covered while helping at the Minster, I think I breathed in a lot of smoke. I know it took two baths and a lot of scrubbing before I managed to wash all of the soot and grime from my skin. You can't really scrub your lungs out, though.

( Private )

[Note: This ward is subject to change. Anyone included on the ward can ask Ash to include others. Also, the ward is set in such a way that no one can make it more private than it is, unless it is private to Ash. He spent a lot of time setting it so it worked the way he wants it to. Also, it is visible in the entry who it is warded to.]

( Warded to: Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Ana Flint, Hestia Jones, Neville Longbottom, Morag MacDougal, Graham Pritchard, Augustus Pye, Romilda Vane, Bill Weasley )

( Private to Lavender Brown )

( Private to Bill Weasley )

( Private to Neville Longbottom )

( Private )

Graham is back, and we are home.

There are probably other things I ought to talk about, but right now, that's all that matters.

I haven't properly slept in days. It's gotten to the point where I've actually attempted to drink Gra Pritch's so-called coffee just to stay awake, and I'm seeing things out of the corners of my eyes. Dark skittering things that I know aren't really there, or if they are they're very good at getting out of the way no matter how fast I turn my head.

Two nights alone and I won't can't don't sleep. The darkest hours are just before dawn, and still he's not here. I'm starting to worry something has happened, but I sit here, afraid to leave because I promised I would be here and what if I leave to go find him and that's when he comes back and he thinks I've left?

The place is clean, or as clean as it's going to get, and now I'm just fussing with things and driving Demp crazy. He wants to toss me out on my ear. He would have by now but Fiona told him not to.

He'll come back. I know he'll come back. I just don't know when.

( Private )

( Private to Theo )

I can't stop grinning, and I'm sure people passing me by on the street think I'm absolutely bloody mental. I can't quite bring myself to care, because I've had the best news this week, and I apologize to Tante Lavender and Uncle Connor, who I wasn't able to tell before now because I couldn't find them, and this is a terribly impersonal way to get the news, but...

My father got out of London. As of July 12, he was alive and well, and helping people make their way home, and then looking for family. I don't know where he is now, but knowing that he's out there, out of London and looking for me... well, as I said, I can't stop grinning.

It's sort of amazing what a bit of good news can do for a person. Suddenly, everything seems just a little less daunting, a little more possible. Combine that with good conversations I've had with people about solutions to some of York's problems, and I'm feeling even more optimistic about the possibilities here than before.

It's probably wrong of me to include the death of the Inner York Minister as another positive sign. My sincerest condolences to those that were close to him, but if this forces the two governments to start working together and cooperating and becoming one York instead of two? I can't think of it as a bad thing.

Now I really need to start focusing and making other contacts. There's a lot to do before winter.

If there's one thing the past few days have taught me, it's to be careful what you say, and when, and how, and to who. I suppose this ought to be common sense, but in the end, it's not. Even those who you once thought you knew, you have to stop and think, "Who are they now?"

It's been a long few days.

Some days it's one step forward, two steps back. Sometimes it's the opposite. Some days I just fall flat on my face.

Whatever the day brings, though, I keep moving forward. I refuse to surrender to inertia, no matter how much easier it seems like it would be sometimes.

At least I'm finding more and more that I'm not the only one willing to work for change. So thank you to everyone who's doing things on their own, and who's helping me, and who will help me in the future (whether you know it yet or not).

( Warded Private and Written In French )

( Private to Bill Weasley )

What are those things called, that you see in mundane tourist shops in London and wherever, with Big Ben or what have you in a plastic bubble and you turn it upside down and shake it and then little white bits of something-or-other snow down?

Whatever they are, that's what I feel like right now. Turned upside down and shaken, only it's not bad. The snow's kind of pretty. (But Merlin, not for real, not yet, thank you.)

It's lovely to be able to get up and have a cup of tea (which isn't really) and see an actual back wall on the house and the entrance to the greenhouse which is completely done and only needs to be planted, and know there are wards around the place to keep things will ill-intent out as well. It feels like a place where people intend to stay. Now to get the rest of York feeling that way as well.

I need to get focused on that again, only I've rather lost track of what I was doing again. I know I'm supposed to be contacting someone around the 10th to discuss housing, and I've got the list from before of things that need addressed. I can't help feeling like I'm forgetting things, though. Please, if you've asked me to do something and I haven't done it, let me know.

( Private )

I'm tired. Just flat out knackered. It's a good tired, though, and worth it for the look on Pansy's face when she came home and found the frame of a greenhouse up, and some of the glass already in place.

There's nothing quite like starting something in the morning, and by the time the sun sets, you've got something to point to where you can say, "Look what we've got done."

We should be able to get it finished tomorrow, I think. It'll be brilliant.

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who's come to help, and thanks in advance for anyone who's there to finish it up tomorrow. I couldn't ask for better friends, honestly.

In case anyone thought I might have forgotten about the ideas I had a few weeks ago, I haven't. It's all sort of been percolating, and I've been trying to figure out how to address the issues that I see in the city. But before I do that, I'd really like to solicit the thoughts of others. So I propose to you a fairly simple (I think) question:

What do you see as the primary problems York faces?

They might be problems you see right now, or they might be things you foresee could become problematic in the future. Either way.

I'm looking to compile a list of what people think are the biggest problems, and from there, start working on solutions, or at least figuring out who is supposed to be addressing the issues, and getting people more or less on the same page.

Lofty goals, I know, but someone's got to have them. So let me know what you think.

Today I've seen something that I haven't seen in a long time - people smiling, and laughing, and joking with each other. You see it here and there, but it almost seems sometimes like people don't feel like they've got the right to be happy, when the world has come crashing down around our ears. Like laughing in public has become a crime, because you don't know if the person next to you might not be miserable.

For me, though, seeing so many people talking about things that are maybe trivial or silly or utterly ridiculous, even if it's just for a little while, gives me hope. It gives me hope that people haven't given up on there being good things in the world, things worth fighting for and trying to preserve.

I haven't been in York that long, only about a month now, and in that time, I've seen and heard of a lot of really terrible things happening. I personally have been mugged while walking home in York, and pursued by thugs trying to get my broom out in the Borderlands. Others have been killed, so I count myself lucky not to be among that number.

I've also met a lot of people that I consider friends. I've found members of my family. I've been reunited with a friend I haven't seen since the Summer of Rage. I've been proven wrong about my theory that no one was willing to give any part of themselves away, for fear of losing it completely.

I came here because everywhere else I went, things were degenerating. I came because people said York was safer. York was doing better than other places. In a lot of ways it is. There is more organization than in other cities. As much as people grumble, there is at least some effort being made to ensure that everyone is doing something to contribute to the city. (I'm referring to the militia, but I really think it should be expanded. There's more that needs to be done than just basic defense, and I think people might not be so resistant to participating if they knew they were going to be something more than cannon fodder.)

I came here because this seemed like the only place left that had hope. I'm afraid that without the concerted effort of a lot of people, though, both magical and mundane, that will start to waver and fade away, because nothing is changing for the better.

Call me an optimist if you like. I am an optimist. I won't give up on this place, because this is my home now. I'm willing to put in the work, whatever it takes, to make sure that it remains a place that people can call home, and feel safe doing so.

Are you?

The good news is, my shoulder is back in its socket where it belongs.

The bad news is, I lost the race.

Good is the fact that it's my left shoulder I've banged up, and I'm right-handed, so I can still write. And such.

Bad is that it still hurts. It's rather swollen, and purple. It would actually be sort of fascinating, if it wasn't so painful.

Cheaters never win, apparently. Especially when their efforts to cheat lead to them running into trees. But I only ran myself into it, the broom is fine!

And thank Merlin for Hannah.

( Private to Graham Pritchard )

( Private to Ginny Weasley )

( Private to Flint )

That has nothing to do with laundry, actually. Although if anyone knows where I can get laundry soap of some sort, or any kind of soap at all, I'd love to hear it, because we're nearly out here at Chateau Brown.

I know I've told a number of people I'll look for things for them at the library. So many that I'm not sure I remember what it is I'm supposed to be looking for. This is what I can remember:
- children's stories
- bee-keeping
- antique farm equipment
- the never-ending quest for books on making food with no imported ingredients, and food preservation

Anything else anyone can remember?

Also, if anyone has any of these sorts of books that they're not using and would be willing to donate to a good cause (namely me and this idea I've got that if we don't get enough food to be able to preserve and store for the winter, we're going to have a famine) please let me know.

( Private to Hannah )

( Private to Lavender )

I've been told that if one is looking for work around here, the militia is a good place to start, and the Minster is the place to go. Anyone have any idea who I should ask for when I get there? Not that I'm adverse to a wild goose chase... as long as I get to eat the goose when I catch it.

Which leads me to the other reason I'm putting pen to paper and leaking my thoughts all to see. Which is that I'm hungry. It's all I can think about at the moment. Most moments, actually. I expect it's a universal condition about now, so you can skip it if you want to. Probably only going to be a bunch of whinging anyway.

( Cut for length, not warded. )