do we wait all this time and follow, blindly hating?
It has been such a long time since I written in this. But I have to write this down. Or something of this nature.
So, I've been signed up to kill the Prewetts. Entirely and totally against my will, but Malfoy doesn't seem to think this matters. He doesn't seem to think it matters that it's wrong to kill people, just that you're doing it for the right reasons. I have no objections to anyone else doing it, it's their conscience, but I'm a Healer, I don't do this kind of thing. I shouldn't take death into my hands just because I understand it better than anyone else. In the same way a priest shouldn't and wouldn't, I have a certain responsiblity, a certain authority. They just have power, created at the end of a wand.
I'm better than them. Am I? Really? Because you'll end up doing it anyway, won't you, Caius? You become a different person behind that mask, don't you? If I were to put that on, and write this, I would write differently. I'm not Caius Nott, I'm a Death Eater, and it's okay for a Death Eater to kill someone, but it's not okay for Healer Nott to do so.
I hope there's never a point when the two meet. So the Prewetts must die. Myself, Amycus, Dolohov and Lucius will be there. Or, four Death Eaters will be there. They will kill, let die, fight and bleed in the name of the Dark Lord, without question, and four men will emerge from those masks, pretending that those actions were never theirs. Or maybe just one man will emerge and three monsters. Maybe we're all fighting. Maybe I'm an idiot for trying to. Maybe I should let it win. Maybe I should start giving muggleborn old ladies the wrong medicine and slowly improve the population.
But maybe that's a step too far. That's not just staring into oblivion, but jumping in feet first. But maybe we all have to jump if we want to win.
Regulus is missing. His mother contacted me. Apparently, Lucius thought I might know more than he did. Despite the fact he's related to the woman. More like he was fed up of having her in his parlour and thought I was more polite and personable. And work in a morgue. Or something. I haven't a clue where he is, and I'd hate to think...the order? Or, possibly, one of us. I shudder to think. Impossible. Surely. Half of us are related to him.
Am I the only person who's had Regulus' mother pestering them? Well, those of us who actually knew him? And when I say pestering, I mean screeching insufferably. Is he alright? Does anyone know anything?
Or, if that can't be answered, should we be worried?
I could do with a break, could you? Cup of tea and biscuit in the cool calm of the morgue?
Too many things at once at the minute. Work calms down a little, but everyone else wants me. I swear, my dad can be so bizarrely pedantic. And loves to turn up at home just when I have other things planned. I think he knows what he's doing, the cheeky sod.