As to more data, I have a near complete file (and the rest coming Sunday) from a friend with access to the Prophet archives, of any substantial articles about her pinkness. I intend, as we discussed Friday, to set Mr Moon to seeing if any names come up (either as allies or adversaries) that might be of interest to us. It seems worth trying.
On practice, is Saturday evening possible? Long before Raz and I spent them in more varied ways, we spent them drinking and marking together, and they're so very empty now. Though I'm - you sure I'd be useful to you?
On the rest, well. Yesterday, at the Guild, I got there early, and Dai and Gilly arranged to get out of work to meet me. And we ended up in Georg's office until the textbook meeting. (Georg is convinced that plying me with coffee - Viennese in his case, naturally - is helpful. It is, actually.)
Anyway. We got to talking about Houses, and the implications for decisions, and that always fascinates Georg because of course he didn't go to Hogwarts. (Durmstrang, long before he emigrated in the 50s).
I think what's bothering me so much is two things. First that Madam Headmistress is such a ... a perversion of the House. That she's twisting all the things that ought to be good about us, ought to be our virtues, and using them to tear things apart. Using loyalty and a desire for hard work, and a desire to be fair (which is to say, giving every student a like chance to succeed on their exams.) And yet she tangles it to make it feed her idea of what's right or best.
And I don't know what to do with that. At all.
The other part is - Dai asked something last night I couldn't answer. (Don't look at me like that, Toshenka, it was not an unreasonable question.) About why I was letting her tangle me up so much.
I didn't know how to tell him how much I hate her. Any of them. It's not just that she's frustrating. It's not just that she's miserable to work for, or that I'm dreading the next teensy idea she has to make things worse. It's that I wake up hating her, and go to sleep (when I sleep) hating her, and catch myself hating her in the middle of a sentence.
I know why. I mean, besides the obvious. That she's insisting on taking stars out of the sky that ought to be there, that should be shining and shaping the worlds around them, and being stars not frozen lumps of rock. That everything she touches poisons.
But I don't like what she's making me become, in hating her. And I don't know what to do about it. At all.
Anyway. I do feel like it's my fault. I feel like if I'd been smarter or sneakier or, or... better, that we'd have managed Saturday's practice and gotten away with it. That I'd have avoided the ban on everyone else on staff helping where they could, even if Dolores didn't like it. I know it's her doing, the decree and everything else. But I gave her opportunity, and I shouldn't have. I should have known better.
no subject
As to more data, I have a near complete file (and the rest coming Sunday) from a friend with access to the Prophet archives, of any substantial articles about her pinkness. I intend, as we discussed Friday, to set Mr Moon to seeing if any names come up (either as allies or adversaries) that might be of interest to us. It seems worth trying.
On practice, is Saturday evening possible? Long before Raz and I spent them in more varied ways, we spent them drinking and marking together, and they're so very empty now. Though I'm - you sure I'd be useful to you?
On the rest, well. Yesterday, at the Guild, I got there early, and Dai and Gilly arranged to get out of work to meet me. And we ended up in Georg's office until the textbook meeting. (Georg is convinced that plying me with coffee - Viennese in his case, naturally - is helpful. It is, actually.)
Anyway. We got to talking about Houses, and the implications for decisions, and that always fascinates Georg because of course he didn't go to Hogwarts. (Durmstrang, long before he emigrated in the 50s).
I think what's bothering me so much is two things. First that Madam Headmistress is such a ... a perversion of the House. That she's twisting all the things that ought to be good about us, ought to be our virtues, and using them to tear things apart. Using loyalty and a desire for hard work, and a desire to be fair (which is to say, giving every student a like chance to succeed on their exams.) And yet she tangles it to make it feed her idea of what's right or best.
And I don't know what to do with that. At all.
The other part is - Dai asked something last night I couldn't answer. (Don't look at me like that, Toshenka, it was not an unreasonable question.) About why I was letting her tangle me up so much.
I didn't know how to tell him how much I hate her. Any of them. It's not just that she's frustrating. It's not just that she's miserable to work for, or that I'm dreading the next teensy idea she has to make things worse. It's that I wake up hating her, and go to sleep (when I sleep) hating her, and catch myself hating her in the middle of a sentence.
I know why. I mean, besides the obvious. That she's insisting on taking stars out of the sky that ought to be there, that should be shining and shaping the worlds around them, and being stars not frozen lumps of rock. That everything she touches poisons.
But I don't like what she's making me become, in hating her. And I don't know what to do about it. At all.
Anyway. I do feel like it's my fault. I feel like if I'd been smarter or sneakier or, or... better, that we'd have managed Saturday's practice and gotten away with it. That I'd have avoided the ban on everyone else on staff helping where they could, even if Dolores didn't like it. I know it's her doing, the decree and everything else. But I gave her opportunity, and I shouldn't have. I should have known better.
And every day's getting harder, not easier