Congrats.
I haven’t taken anything from any of you. You seem to think I have, but as far as I can tell, it’s only ever gone the other way. You’ve taken my sense of safety, poked continual holes in my self-worth, and constantly questioned my entire identity. Then you literally took my sister away from me. Now you’ve taken my brother. So I got the message. Loud and clear.
But I’m still not going anywhere. If you’re so damn scared of the big bad muggleborn? You’ll have to kill me too. Good luck with that.
WARDED TO ORDER AND SUPPORT This probably isn’t the time and bits of this have been said, but I want to write this all down before I forget something. And I need to do Dedalus and I fought two Death Eaters at Mungos. They’d been clearly transfiguring people into things or parts of people into things like mops, though the rest of the spell work was typical enough - fireballs, blasting curses, etc. One of their phones went off and played Mariah’s All I Want for Christmas Is You before they smashed it, accioed the pieces, and then they both ran off. Given the way purists are with their technological hypocrisy, it’s probably not a lot to go on.
Death Eaters murdered my brother in his home in Tinworth. It was definitely targeted - there was no sign of a fight or anything else. Whether it’s just because he’s a muggleborn or because he’s [...] my brother, I don’t know. I can guess, but I don’t know.
I’m sorry.