(no subject)

[alt_amycus]

Filth. Muck-eating scum.

Light will filter through the mire, the smoke, the offal, the refuse. They stare, they stare, but I will not stop. Hesitation is for the weak, but never the pure.

The smell offends me. Sinks into the pores, a reek lingering in my nostrils. Every night my clothes are burned, torched in sacrifice.

tidbit, never you fear. Your master will close in on the secrets and then you'll be back where you belong. No one will be able to deny me then. Least of all the bloody squeaking bat.

Comments

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good

[alt_terry]

Doesn't sound like his research is going very well.

Bloody hell, he's like a nightmare that keeps creeping back. I wish he would just go away for good.

Re: I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good

[alt_neville]

Do you have any idea what he's trying to do?

(I'm afraid to ask, really.)

Re: I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good

[alt_terry]

You should be afraid. Don't think anyone who's sane should look at it very closely.

I dunno, really. He's off at the camps, moving from place to place. If it's like last summer, he's spending most of his time with the muggleborn, and they, uh, aren't in very good shape when he's done with them. I know some of them were dead last year, before he was through with them.

Bloody hell. And then he comes back to Hogwarts and teaches. Like anyone should listen to a single thing he says.

Re: I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good

[alt_sally_anne]

Do you suppose there's any way to -- I don't know, poison his tea or something? He probably keeps a bezoar on hand just in case anyone tries.