(no subject)

[alt_antonin]

Students: classes will be canceled tomorrow. I apologise for the short notice.

If anyone has questions, please hold them for my return, as I cannot guarantee I will be able to answer comments in my journal with any sort of alacrity.

Comments

Private Message to Augustus Rookwood

[alt_antonin]

Gus —

It seems as though we are knee-deep in Thestral shit, are we not? I cannot believe He

We are desperately in need of knowing who can be trusted and who cannot, particularly in your demesne. I cannot imagine we will make it to tomorrow morning without a fierce struggle among those who are in the know to see who will rise to the top, given Our Lord's ... situation. I cannot see this ending well if we do not act quickly to secure Our Lord's legacy and prevent it from being co-opted by the upstarts.

If you're free, I need to speak with you. I will come to you: Barty does not want us gathering publicly in groups of more than two or three tonight. He fears a followup.

— T

Private Message to Barty and Lucius

[alt_antonin]

Gus has written back; I am on my way to see what I can pry loose from him. I will do my best to give him as little information as possible, particularly since Lucius is convinced he is no longer calling the shots in his department.

I will return as quickly as possible; and yes, dear heart, I am being careful.

Private Message to Raz

[alt_antonin]

I know you must be chafing at the bit, but with Minerva not at Hogwarts, it is even more important that we be vigilant about Harry's safety.

I agree with you that Hogwarts is likely the most safe place for him. I know I do not need to say this, but do not let anyone coax you into removing him from the school. No matter what. We still do not know the extent of who is involved. If we need to change plans, and are unable to use journals, we will send someone with the usual signals; if you need to reach us, post publicly with the alternate codes and we will ensure someone checks regularly.

—T

Private Message to Barty

[alt_antonin]

You are likely asleep right now, dear heart. I hope that you are, at least -- one of us should have a chance to get some rest.

I should sleep myself, I know -- tomorrow will be brutal -- and yet. And yet. Was it only last week I was saying that I missed the days in which we were living at the tips of our toes, wands out, eyes in the back of our heads? I should know better by now than to wax nostalgic about people trying to kill me, I suppose.

I cannot believe that

It finally struck me, I suppose, a few minutes ago. Drinking a cup of coffee and wondering whether I would do better with a few hours' sleep, or if I should push through to morning on caffeine and stubbornness. I suppose there is a part of me that does not want to sleep, because if I do, then I will wake into a world where everything has changed utterly. Where He is no more, and we are left to hold the pieces. And hold the faith, as best we might, as imperfect as we might be, with nothing more than each other left to hold on to.

It does not feel real yet. I suppose I don't want it to.

And here we are, left floundering, His best and brightest -- or at least, certain of us -- scrabbling as best we might to seize what we can in terms of stability. Wondering, all the way, which of us can be trusted, without Him to put an end to our petty quarrels when they arise. (And yet, how much of that thinking is my nostalgia for the way things used to be? For in this past year, I have seen so many ways in which He is was no longer the consummate leader He was a decade ago. Or ways in which He decided that we were able to govern ourselves and no longer needed Him to dog our every step, and we failed Him.)

Did we fail Him? Or did He fail us? No -- of course we did; we would not be in these circumstances had we not. But I am left to wonder what we could have done differently, what we failed to do, what individual actions and choices led us to this moment. What else I could have done that would have prevented me from sitting here, in the middle of the night, staring at nothing and wondering what the world will look like tomorrow morning when the sun rises and the country finds out that alea iacta est.

I suppose it could be worse; I could have lived through tonight without the knowledge that no matter what should happen, I at least have the finest son a man could wish for to stand at my side and face the future with me.

And on that note, perhaps I will get a few hours of sleep after all. Wake me first thing in the morning, and we will make our lists of the thousands of details that must be attended to. And the world will go on, I suppose, no matter that everything has changed and nothing will ever be the same again.

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

[alt_ron]

What happened? He's not sick again, is he?