Politic, cautious and meticulous

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are



- Eliot

Hatred is an interesting thing. I had always thought of myself as a generally docile being, quick to become annoyed, good at holding a grudge, but otherwise lacking the strength of character (strange phrase to be using, but it seems apt) to really powerfully hate a person, or object.

I think before I had substituted fear, aversion. I suppose most people do; it's an easier alternative. One must not understand something to fear it, but one must understand it at least a little to really hate it.

I had not realised this until very recently. Shameful fact.

However, he looked so small. Easily broken. Quiet. I never want to see him so quiet for so long again.

And it struck me, suddenly, that I could find the person who'd done that to him, and kill them. Easily.

I still want to.


Ministry planning on mounting an offence. Fearing lambs to the slaughter on this one. Bones could use the help but is too proud to ask for it, is there any way - well, one might use one's influence to sway her in the right direction, so to speak. If one had influence. Which some of us do.

Ahem.

Tonks, lunch tomorrow, no backing out. You're looking peaky.

( P to Anthony )

I've reorganised my bookshelves; now they're sorted by author AND original date of publication! Rather a bugger attempting to find a publishing year for some of those books of Mr. Moody's; I'm afraid a few of them were inadvertently sorted according to the number of deaths they recounted, other than the year they were printed. I should really learn ancient Sumerian, I keep putting it off.

It's instances like these that remind me what a terrible habit procrastination is.

I could always try organising them according to the author's birthplace, but what of the books that have several authors? Does one go by the birthplace of the author first listed, or plot the entire list geographically and try to find a point of joining equal distances from each one?

Hmm.

I believe I've earned this weekend; the past five days have been rather hellish. I didn't even wake until 10 this morning, which I don't think I'll be doing for quite a while after this, as I do like my mornings to be at least a little productive.

Gertrude and I took a long walk; we both like brisk mornings, it seems.

Still rather chilly in the house, though the kitchen's warming nicely. I think it may be time for lunch.

Really cannot believe this. He's insane. Absolutely insane.

A 16th century copy of the Malleus Maleficarum. There are NOTES in it.
Demonology from the early 18th century.
1697 copy of Scot's Discoverie of Witchcraft. Revisionist biographies suggest he was a wizard himself, you know.

Amazing.

Merlin, I'm going to have to reset all the wards to the house, the MM ALONE is worth thousands. Anthony, you have to see them, they're...well, amazing.




Also. Ahem. Fred and George, am assuming that you'd be more interested in severely dated issues of Playwizard than I am?

SEVERELY dated.


A "salacious bare-ankle daguerrotype" sort of dated.

Er.


Tonks?

I'm alive, all limbs intact. Thankyou to Ron and Ginny and the rest for concern over my whereabouts, it has been a decidedly difficult day. Dad's department was accounted for when I left St Mungo's, though I didn't get to see him. I've sent an owl to Mum.

I didn't know there were still so many Death Eaters. We didn't know we'd been attacked until people were dying. There was no time to attempt barricades or retreat. My office is gone (only yesterday I'd been complaining about the state of my desk, and now my desk is in cinders). All the offices are gone - tomorrow we're to report to the Leaky Cauldron and go from there.

So thankful to have Bones as Ministress in a crisis such as this.



I'd like to say something about Alastor Moody. I was with him when he died. He fought bravely this morning, and I think he was the only one save the Death Eaters who was laughing, which I think spoke much about his character - he could face danger, and recognise the humor in it. He was not killed instantly, which I think he might have preferred (much to the chagrin of his murderer, I'd imagine) - it gave him time enough to joke with his partners, and with me - his dying wish was for Emmeline Vance and myself to wed, which is sad for her, as she is very much out of my league.

It is likely he'd cuff me for saying so, but he's not here to prevent it, so: I considered him a friend, and was lucky to do so. Last year, he had the tenacity to attempt to persuade the Prodigal Weasley back into the fold, so to speak, and though I followed him more from fear then, I think I would have followed him fearlessly into any situation after. He was always kind, often in an unkind way.

His death was not swift, nor was it wholly painless, but I think he was comforted by his friends, their laughter, and the knowledge that he'd done all he could to make the world better while he was in it. He never stood by idly, he never let anyone else fight for things that would affect him, without somehow becoming involved. Moody recognised that we all have a stake in the world, and we're all responsible for it.

I don't think he was particularly eager to die. However, I suppose now that he's gone on, he's found his old friends, and they're violating all the curfew and noise ordinances (and singing obscene songs) in paradise.


I'll miss him.


Katie Bell, I am so sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do to help you or your family, please let me know.

Kit, I'm sorry I've hurt you. However, I'm not sorry for anything else.


And now I'm going to go back to sleep.

Oddly enough, I'm looking forward to what tomorrow will bring.

I must say, it was shaping up to be a very pretty morning before I left for work. As it is spring, technically, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I should also be a little sad, since I do love winter, but I think it may be instinct, this appreciation for the cheerfulness of early spring. An appreciation for rebirth, renewal.

At any rate, the sun was up, and it was clear, and the daffodils I'd put in b

For the love of Merlin, STOP SENDING OWLS. THE MINISTRY CANNOT REFUND YOUR MONEY, GRINGOTTS WAS A PRIVATE INSTITUTION, AND NO WE DO NOT KNOW WHO'S DONE IT AND WHERE THEY ARE BUT I SUPPOSED THAT WOULD BE OBVIOUS AND I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF MY DESK COULD GO TWO DAYS TOGETHER WITHOUT HAVING GOUGES RIPPED INTO IT BY OWL TALONS.

A diamond's brilliance is, apparently, composed of two things: brightness and contrast. Many diamonds that are inexpertly cut are lacklustre, and do not rate very highly among dealers because they do not allow in much light, limiting their capacity for brilliance. The most brilliant of all diamonds (according to the brilliancescope and in comparison to the brilliant quality of other diamonds) is the Hearts On Fire diamond, so say most experts.

Ugh. It looks like rain.

I am bruised from all the pinches yesterday - someone could have reminded me that it was St. Patrick's Day (am not blaming you, Kit).

Gertrude spent the entire night barking.

A day full of meetings, which I'll be asked to scribe.

I cannot find my lucky quill.

Really don't think this day could get much worse.

That said, off to work I go.

I believe the non-dairy creamer in the canteen's gone bad. Not entirely certain how that happens, as I thought there was no dairy to spoil in it. Come to think of it, is the phrase "non-dairy creamer" an oxymoron? A bit disconcerting, ingesting it.

Tonks - give me 15 minutes, I've got two more owls to dash off or Bones will have my head. Beginning to miss Fudge, if you can believe it.

Ron - Very funny. I do not "pitch fits." How witty the repartee in the Common Room must be these days.

Kit - bringing home curry tonight; what would you like?


ETA: ( Private )

( Private )

</i>

Beginning to wonder if the weather is having an adverse effect on my ability to focus. Has anyone else dealt with a similar problem?

I miss my brothers and my sister. And my mother, and father. And ability to trust

Difficult, being alone all the ti


Gertrude's been sleeping rather a lot lately, I think she must be growing again. She's lost most of her "puppy" look. A little sad, really - though she's growing into herself, she's losing a lot of her curiosity, wonder with the world. It seems a large price to pay.

I suppose it must happen, though. She can't remain a puppy forever, I shouldn't wish for her to.

My goodness, wasn't that unexpected? Oh, yes, indeed, entirely so.


Isn't it fun, choosing others' reparations for them.

I say we Obliviate, and then set him loose in Diagon Alley. Wandless. During lunch hour.

Why did no one TELL me fidelity had become passe?


Oh, I am heartbroken. I weep, I wail. I may or may not have burst into hysterical giggles once or twice.

Perhaps she didn't see the note.

Optimism does not suit me.

Well, it's a mistake I won't make again.

Have brought Gertrude to work today, she's been quiet of late. Possibly she finds me boring.

Never owled Kiaran after I got back. Just as well. Was a rather embarrassing evening.

Getting anothe rheadache.

End of year reports stil coming in. damned DMGS.

a belated Happy New Years to all.

bloody damn


KIT

or Prof Moody or the Headmaster or Prof McGonagall


Would someone please come to St Margaret's Institute for Magical Maladies (outside Edinburgh I think) and tell the staff here that I didn't help to kill the Minister? Would be appreciated

BRING MINISTRY BADGE PLEASE, in cloak pocket near hearth


PW