Antonin Nikolaevich Dolohov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alt_antonin) wrote2013-03-13 09:46 am
alt_antonin) wrote2013-03-13 09:46 am
Private Message to Aurora Sinistra
Dear heart,
I had hoped to catch you in person for a quiet word, but circumstances, alas, seem to be preventing. But I did wish to tell you that I've spoken with Poppy, and she is as well as she might be, given the circumstances: livid at Umbridge, as well she ought be, but in no particular immediate need. I have promised her whatever assistance I might give; I am in her debt for the quality of care she has delivered to me.
(You may also hear reference to the excitement you missed at supper last night; the children cannot have missed that our dear, darling Madam Umbridge spent supper last night waxing effusive at me about the importance of maintaining relationships with others. Lest you worry that this is a sign of her next area of interest, or the thrust of her next campaign of misery: the fault there was entirely mine, as I'd thought to encourage her to tell me about her allies. Lyoushka assures me that he did, in fact, warn me she had developed a resistance to such forms of encouragement, but alas, I did not remember the conversation.)
But enough about setbacks: I will not be so obvious as to ask how you are, as I cannot imagine you are bearing up under this latest round of indignities with equanimity, but I know you, little star: I am certain you are imagining yourself the cause of Poppy's dismissal and the latest "educational decree". I cannot say this strongly enough: you are not responsible for that woman's actions, and you must not allow yourself to fall into the trap of casting blame anywhere but in the direction it belongs -- namely, square upon Madam Toad's shoulders.
I would also ask a favour of you: it is becoming clear to me that I am not at my best, and while I cannot imagine our conflict will erupt into open battle, I would be remiss if I did not take every opportunity possible to hone my spellwork. I will be devoting myself to that work over Easter hols, but until then, and as that woman has now prevented you from practicing with the children as well as with Raz, would you care to kill two jarveys with one spear and serve as my practice partner? (I would ask Raz, except I am certain darling Dolores would take that as a challenge.)
Yours,
T
I had hoped to catch you in person for a quiet word, but circumstances, alas, seem to be preventing. But I did wish to tell you that I've spoken with Poppy, and she is as well as she might be, given the circumstances: livid at Umbridge, as well she ought be, but in no particular immediate need. I have promised her whatever assistance I might give; I am in her debt for the quality of care she has delivered to me.
(You may also hear reference to the excitement you missed at supper last night; the children cannot have missed that our dear, darling Madam Umbridge spent supper last night waxing effusive at me about the importance of maintaining relationships with others. Lest you worry that this is a sign of her next area of interest, or the thrust of her next campaign of misery: the fault there was entirely mine, as I'd thought to encourage her to tell me about her allies. Lyoushka assures me that he did, in fact, warn me she had developed a resistance to such forms of encouragement, but alas, I did not remember the conversation.)
But enough about setbacks: I will not be so obvious as to ask how you are, as I cannot imagine you are bearing up under this latest round of indignities with equanimity, but I know you, little star: I am certain you are imagining yourself the cause of Poppy's dismissal and the latest "educational decree". I cannot say this strongly enough: you are not responsible for that woman's actions, and you must not allow yourself to fall into the trap of casting blame anywhere but in the direction it belongs -- namely, square upon Madam Toad's shoulders.
I would also ask a favour of you: it is becoming clear to me that I am not at my best, and while I cannot imagine our conflict will erupt into open battle, I would be remiss if I did not take every opportunity possible to hone my spellwork. I will be devoting myself to that work over Easter hols, but until then, and as that woman has now prevented you from practicing with the children as well as with Raz, would you care to kill two jarveys with one spear and serve as my practice partner? (I would ask Raz, except I am certain darling Dolores would take that as a challenge.)
Yours,
T
no subject
I have no absolute answers -- well, you know that if I did, I would have given you them a long time ago. But we've spoken of change, before, and about how one must embrace it or shy away from it, and in this case I think your hatred is another facet of that same coin: hatred can fuel change for the better or for the worse. Or rather, hatred can lead you to become more of what you wish to be, or bring you ever further away from it.
I can imagine you raising your eyebrow at me, and wondering how such a strong, negative emotional reaction can bring you closer to what you want to become when all you can feel right now is that all-encompassing rage, and when you feel so far away from the self you wish to be -- for the virtues you believe in so strongly are the ones that seem anathema to such hatred. (And thus you worry that you, like her, are twisting and warping the virtues of your House, and the secret voice of the wee hours plagues you with the thought: is this how she started? Is this what I will become? I would not be surprised if that were not one of the seeds at the root of your sleeplessness.)
Certainly, it is difficult to keep sight of what (and who) one wishes to be when one feels incapable of breathing without being reminded that the object of one's hatred is breathing the same air. There is the risk of the hatred expanding to fill you until it hollows you out from within, leaving you with nothing of what and who you used to be; I have seen that happen before, among several of those I fought beside. There are and were those whose motive in rising at Our Lord's behest was not a vision of the world we would build on the bedrock of wizarding history and wizarding culture, but rather an overwhelming hatred of those not of wizarding heritage who would come into our world and destroy it through their ignorance. And while the two motives looked alike on the surface, the differences became plain quite quickly when one looked beneath: those for whom the struggle was motivated by nothing more than their hatred may have been fierce fighters, but they were also the ones for whom success held no particular sweetness, only the perpetual terror of what fears would be made manifest if the next battle should not go as well.
Hatred, I've often thought, is a facet of fear -- for what do we hate more than that which has frightened us? And you are so very frightened right now, for she has uprooted everything in your life you thought was stable in the heavens, and every time you learn the new map of the skies she yanks it askew again. You do not -- forgive me, little star; it is not intended as insult -- take to change quickly; it takes you time to learn the new patterns before you can lean on them. That she has forced you to do it repeatedly, and with the worst of motivations, is enough to inspire fear and hatred on its own, even were she not striking at the heart of all you value most: family, love, home.
But hate is not the opposite of love, and you are not betraying that heart of you by feeling hatred for someone who twists those values so badly. The question is not whether or not you should feel hatred; the question is whether you can transmute that hatred into resolve, and in doing so, serve your own greater goals and ideals rather than allowing her to draw you further from them. Yes, you will hate her no matter what; yes, the knowledge that you are able to sustain that level of hatred will change you, and is changing you, and you will have to live with that knowledge now that you have it. But it is possible to use that hatred to fuel your purpose, and to strengthen your resolve to continue to exemplify all the virtues she has twisted so fiercely. When her actions make it plain she poisons everything she touches, instead of berating yourself for feeling that hatred, let it instead power your resolve and your efforts to be everything she is not, and to embody the virtues she rejects. Doing that will still mean you are defining yourself by her actions, and reacting to her rather than embracing actions on your own out of nothing but your own nature -- and I know you know my feelings on that -- but as we are fighting a reactive battle at the moment, it may be your best choice.
Do not think that the strength of your hatred is a failing of yours: it is not. The hatred you feel for her is something she has earned herself, through her own actions and her own choices. Those choices are hers, and the choice before you is whether you will allow her to force you into facing each moment through the fear of what that moment might bring, or whether you will reach inside yourself and say, her choices are her own, and my choice is to oppose those actions of hers I find anathema no matter what the cost might bring to bear.
It is not much I can offer you -- but I hope it will be enough to start you on the road to that resolve. And, as I know your next question to me will be "but how" -- I've some ideas in that direction, but we can discuss that later.
My Saturday evening is yours, little star. As are any others of my evenings you've a mind to lay claim to. And I have faith you will indeed be a help to me, as I hope I will be to you.
Your,
T
no subject
Where do I start? (Except, yes, Saturday, if you're sure.)
I'll be the first to admit I am slow to deal with change, and easily startled, and that it is, yes, a problem.
I will also admit I am afraid of so much - for so much, right now. What she'll do next.
If Raz and I will ever get married if something will tear him away if the curse damage gets worse if Our Lord if we still know how to talk to each other when if there's no way out, and we're in this endless waiting if he decides I'm not if we don't ever if I change so much he can't love meAfraid, yes.
What she might do to students next. That they're not talking to me, not really, about the punishments, worries me more than words can tell. That the small things are adding up and up and up into an endless sum, too much to ever bear or dismantle or make better. That they will come out twisted like she's twisted.
That I will. You are right, Toshenka, about part of my fears.
What makes people like that? I - Cassie, last year. It got me wondering. But I've no answers. Pomona was in school around the same time as her pinkness and - she wouldn't say much, didn't dare, but she said she wasn't the kindest or the most helpful or the most pleasant. But she wasn't like this, not then.
And it's changing so much of everything else. Things with my family. People who don't understand what it's like here. Seeing divisions amongst the students. Those things - even if Minerva were back tomorrow, properly in her office, those things, those wounds, those suspicions, wouldn't go away. I don't know.
How, magister? What can one possibly do instead?