I would have written earlier, but for the slight inconvenience that for the past few hours I've been barely able to move. It began with anger. Fear, too, but the anger was dominant. I knew then that
Harry Potter was facing something unpleasant, probably Death Eaters but possibly Voldemort himself, and that I should steel myself for the pain that was to come. Still, nothing could prepare me for the agony. They were cutting him, collecting blood, and that alone told me my dear aunt Bellatrix was involved. Potter realised it too, but I didn't even need his confirmation in my head. She's always been a sadistic sort. Harry Potter had the good fortune of being able to pass out, but I was in the middle of my Divination practical, and after all it wasn't my blood that was being drained. I got a full and vivid dose. I tried to send Harry some feeling of hope, of peace, conjure up an image of green meadows and blue skies, but I don't know if any of it got through to him. It was hard enough to keep up appearances myself, sweating and groaning with exertion as I was. I barely got through the three hours consciously. Still, there was one bright spot. In the crystal ball and tea leaves I saw nothing but images of death and pain, so Trelawney's bound to give me a high mark.
So, I have made my choice, and soon I will return to Voldemort's hiding place to take his quarry from him. Harry has assured me his support and Dumbledore's protection, and even though I insisted on Substantia Necto I'm starting to feel like I trust him a little even of my own accord. Very strange experience. For the first time in what feels like forever I choose my own fate. If it is to be my doom then so be it. It is mine. And I actually feel rather good about it. Not ashamed, not terrified, not anything I've been for the past year. Proud. Yes, that's what I am. I'm proud of what I'm doing. That must mean what I'm doing is good.
From the moment
He he realises we're gone I'll be a hunted man. Malfoy Manor will not be safe, naturally. I'll need to find alternative lodgings. I could never have foreseen it, of course, but it is curious good chance that I've sent Mother away from home, for she won't be easy prey if she's living on her wits, away from her usual haunts. Still, I would have liked to have explained it to her myself. To explain why I did what I did. And what I'm doing now.
Private to Pansy
Another great change is upon us. I need to know if you're with me, if you'll follow me again this one last time.
Private to Narcissa
On the off-chance you're still reading this, wherever you are: how do you fare? You may want to get out of the country for a while, or at least get off the beaten path a little.