They were in Japan just for the weekend, a meeting between the Aurors and the traditional samurai wizards, the seven left in the entire world. Ginny found herself apparating into a pleasant little garden. It tingled with magic, old magic, warding magic. She bet that there was a wand on her at this very moment.
"Hi," she said. An hour before in Tokyo, she'd pulled out yen and bought herself a robe - a muggle robe, one that the girl in the shop had told her (in halting English) was all the rage lately. old was in, she'd said, and so Ginny bought the red thing, pattered with delicate birds, and tied it around her waist tight.
"I'm here from Albus Dumbledore," she said. Harry was supposed to meet her as soon as he received instruction. The Aurors were here on Official Assignment.
A voice said into the garden, "Where is Alastor Moody? We were expecting him." A shadow stepped from behind a delicate japanese cherry tree.
Ginny pivoted slowly, trying to look the shadow straight on, but it was useless. He kept melting into the afternoon sunshine. "He's here," and she raised one hand to her chest, touching her heart. Beneath her palm, the silk was smooth, almost cold. The embroidery of the bird under her fingers moved slightly as she breathed.
The figure nodded, and stepped out into the light. The sunlight in the garden revealed, finally, a small sand garden with one ripple in it. Ginny suspected that it was all for effect; Japan couldn't still be like this, not in the twentieth century. Even Malfoy Manor wasn't back in the 1700s.
"Yes," the figure said in accented English, and then, "there he is, you have become him," and then the figure - an ancient Japanese man - bowed to her.