Private message to Barty
Jun. 9th, 2014 07:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_antoninI am so thoroughly, wretchedly, miserably exhausted.
And I cannot help but dwell on how badly I've failed. I should have recognised him; I should have seen through him. And now Draco is missing, and Raz is dead, and Minerva...
I still have not come to terms with Minerva, even after this long to absorb it. With each bit of new evidence I come to believe more firmly that she was never one of ours. That she never believed; that she took Our Lord's mark only to keep her place here, and ferment rebellion. That during every cup of tea we had together, every discussion about pedagogy, every peaceful afternoon, there was a piece of her sitting and watching, assessing how she could use what she learned in their efforts to dismantle Our Lord's greatest achievement and return us to the days when people like them persecuted people like us and witches and wizards were forced to live in the shadows and cower like stray dogs.
And Snape has Draco, and Merlin only knows what he's doing to the boy -- I cannot imagine he would pass up a chance to revenge himself against Lucius through Lucius's son -- and every promise I made to Lucius to protect Draco is thus forsworn. All because I failed to see what was right under my nose.
And I still cannot believe Raz is dead. If Nott does not experience the consequences of his actions, we should wait several weeks, to make him think he has gotten away with it, and then pay a call on him in the wee hours of the morning to explain to him just how thoroughly displeased with him we are. I will not allow my brother's death to go unavenged.
And we still have to figure out what to do withthe fucking abominations Our Lord's newest army.
(Forgive me, lapushka. I do not need a response; I only needed a moment to rail against the heavens before putting one foot in front of the other and getting on with what will be an utterly miserable day.)
And I cannot help but dwell on how badly I've failed. I should have recognised him; I should have seen through him. And now Draco is missing, and Raz is dead, and Minerva...
I still have not come to terms with Minerva, even after this long to absorb it. With each bit of new evidence I come to believe more firmly that she was never one of ours. That she never believed; that she took Our Lord's mark only to keep her place here, and ferment rebellion. That during every cup of tea we had together, every discussion about pedagogy, every peaceful afternoon, there was a piece of her sitting and watching, assessing how she could use what she learned in their efforts to dismantle Our Lord's greatest achievement and return us to the days when people like them persecuted people like us and witches and wizards were forced to live in the shadows and cower like stray dogs.
And Snape has Draco, and Merlin only knows what he's doing to the boy -- I cannot imagine he would pass up a chance to revenge himself against Lucius through Lucius's son -- and every promise I made to Lucius to protect Draco is thus forsworn. All because I failed to see what was right under my nose.
And I still cannot believe Raz is dead. If Nott does not experience the consequences of his actions, we should wait several weeks, to make him think he has gotten away with it, and then pay a call on him in the wee hours of the morning to explain to him just how thoroughly displeased with him we are. I will not allow my brother's death to go unavenged.
And we still have to figure out what to do with
(Forgive me, lapushka. I do not need a response; I only needed a moment to rail against the heavens before putting one foot in front of the other and getting on with what will be an utterly miserable day.)