Saturday morning, 29 August 1942
Magister-Sir and I had a discussion that wasn’t as long as either of us would have liked about Tom Riddle, his son and Endymion Dashwood. Of course partly that was because we both really thought that Endymion ought to be seen at St Mungo’s as soon as possible, because salt baths and lavender oil massages can only do so much and I have no idea how long he’d been feverish or how high the fever had got. I probably over-reacted, and if Priscilla or even Jadis had been there, they’d have laughed at me-but there was no way I was going to waste any time, because I’ve encountered cases of heat stroke and spontaneous human combustion as a result of kundalini gone astray.
I’ve made two foster-sons now. The first was my cousin Yvon, of the lines of Ys and Brocéliande, who took another use-name and went to live with my aunt Honoria while he finished school at Hogwarts. The second has no Unseelie blood at all, but that did not stop me from Naming him. Magister-Sir explained to him, and this was very dear, that he was also in my service, even though for many years it was I who had served him, because I am the sacred queen of this land, and that there could never be any conflict of the sort he feared between us; and Endymion allowed me to name him, which I did in private, because as I warned him, he must never tell anyone else the name I gave him, except perhaps for Hadrian…but later, when they’re older and even more sure of themselves. He has accepted arms and he is a part of my court.
Bella was very good with them. Magister-Sir and I went in there to get them and Endymion was sitting in his tub as though it were a throne and he were holding court, and Bella was rubbing his forehead and shoulders with lavender oil. I could tell that he liked it so we gave it to them to take home.
It is not yet eleven o’clock and we still have yet to finish all the costumes for the ball tonight. Also Alexandra Ducas has invited Demetria’s escort up here so that she can interrogate him, a person named Dolohov, of whom I have never heard.
Why cannot I have a day of rest and still have my children around me?
Tomorrow I am not getting up before noon, and everyone in the house will have Sunday dinner with me. There is a great deal to be done and little time to do it in, but I will be damned if I do not enjoy my children at least a little before they go off to school.