Lucius S Malfoy

Draco,

We have been in conference for some hours now with Cadmus Mulciber and Theo Nott, Sr. They have quite a tale to tell concerning your relations with that mudblood servant of Harry's.

Son, there is no reason to stay away. You may fear repercussions for having run but if you return immediately, we can sort this out. It is clear that this is a vicious attempt to discredit you for having out-performed Nott's son so roundly in Our Lord's service.

As for the incidents that occurred as you fled, we will of course co-operate with MLE and resolve them. It is no secret that Teddy Nott harassed your friends; it will be no great difficulty to produce witnesses to corroborate that testimony and prove that, however Theo Nott believes himself wronged, his son provoked you and you acted in self-defence.

If there is any truth in their story, it is only that the mudblood clearly has been colluding with a traitor to Our Lord's realm for some time and likely has attempted to ensnare you into her plans. Naturally, it would be shameful to admit any temptation but you would not be the first wizard to find himself so tempted. We know that you could never have committed any such depraved acts as Nott and Mulciber have concocted. Come back, Draco, and set the record straight.

The longer you stay away, the more guilty you appear to be. We know you may be frightened but please, trust your Mother and Father, who only want what is best for you and who will do everything in their power to protect your life and clear your good name.

Do not let your uncle's sacrifice on your behalf go in vain. Come home, now, and we will settle this matter together.

Father and Mother

Spent most of the day, following Court, on inspection tour at Preston and Leeds. Sheeting down rain the whole time - except, of course, when the Head Enforcer for the region conducted us inside for luncheon. Had to reinforce warming and water-repelling charms twice before returning to New London.

Leeds remains an altogether well-organised operation. There were some minor issues and of course, one or two open questions regarding security. The mud (both varieties) makes for an excellent brickworks, sorely needed for repairs throughout the realm and the muggle population appears well-kept and adequately deferential as befits their station. Interestingly, the administrator there has chosen to separate families, as a matter of course. Claims it elicits better compliance.

However, this is not borne out when compared to Preston, which also until recently kept the genders segregated and rewarded good behaviour with the privilege of conjugal visitation. Preston's disciplinary logs over the last two weeks have shown a marked increase and there are signs that its administrator (Rosalia Craig) may be losing her control over her charges.

At least her muggleborn denizens are tightly mastered, yet even these have undergone recent periods of unruliness, particularly leading up to and on Bonfire Night. When our party arrived, however, the camp had been turned out in good form and we were treated to a public reprisal for the mischief of Friday night. While their comrades staged a diversion, three mudblood youngsters had broken in to the dispensary and stolen strength potions. These, we were told, they distributed among several of their younger companions and together attempted to overpower the guards and make their way to an abandoned section of town, where they intended to hide.

The three instigators were apprehended and four of their accomplices as well. Craig also located their muggle parents and forced the children to watch while the adults were Cruciated in front of them. A fine lesson in theory but Craig seems to have under-estimated the degree to which separating mudbloods from their biological parents also divorces them from any feeling of kinship, nor from any responsibility to one another as a family. Thus it is hard to conceive what possible submission the method will secure when neither parent nor child has any contact with one another to re-inforce the necessity of docility. Moreover her redress, from what our party could discern, had quite the opposite of its desired effect - though not, as I say, out of familial loyalty. Instead of reminding those under her supervision of her power to give pain or succor, she merely added to their disquiet. Suspect she missed the point of the prisoner's dilemma. Return scheduled in two weeks to determine whether our recommendations have made any difference to her bottom line. (Oh, and Mr Kendall: note the date if you please and clear the calendar as necessary when you hear from Spencer-Wells' office to schedule the visit.)

In any event, back at the St James' house now and unable to accomplish nearly as much as I should like owing to the constant interruption of questions from my front office. (Which also reminds me, Mr Kendall: If you are so wholly incapable of brewing a decent cup of tea, leave it in future to the elf.) Should like to read the intelligence report from the Bonfire Night arrests in Green Park - if one could find them!

We were in the midst of Court when the hue-and-cry arrived regarding the sighting at Hyde Park.

By the time I and other members of Council arrived, the Aurors had the scene well in hand; the students (principally Harry Marvolo) had been evacuated back to the Horseguards and the only suspicious person in the whole of the Park was a young mudblood masquerading as a witch.

There were a deal of onlookers, of course - it seems the students' posts brought citizens out of their homes in hope of glimpsing the fugitive's capture. I'm sure the MLE will have something to say about the wisdom of mulling about a crime scene when there are people to apprehend. It does add to the work of vetting the harmless from the dangerous and interferes with their investigations, particularly when time is precious.

At any rate, the Aurors on the scene quickly determined that the girl belonged to a nearby couple. When summoned, both husband and wife arrived instantly and proceeded to discuss suitable punishment with the MLE. Her attempted escape, the theft of robes and her admitted intention to join with Black's underground were enough, but there were further revelations - facts which, I am certain, precipitated her decision to run. For it turned out that the mudblood had undertaken over the past several months to seduce and tempt her master - successfully, more's the pity. Clearly she wished to abscond with the unborn child. The wife, it can be imagined, was not half incensed at this affront. She begged Auror Travers' permission to deal with her servant on her own. As for the husband, he shall face house arrest and a fine, at the very least. Further reprisals, I should think, will depend on his wife's decision whether or not to press charges or to acknowledge the child once it has come to term.

However, the situation was at least under control, so I left the unfortunate wife under Travers' supervision, informed the Lord Protector of His son's safety and and returned to the St James' house. Had a few final matters to wrap up before the Sandoval party.

The surprises were not to be over for the afternoon, however: Interrupted presently by Weasley, about to inform me of a visitor. She was unwilling to wait in the drawing-room, it seemed, for she came in hard on Weasley's heels, and somewhat inconsolable at first.

As it has taken me over a quarter-hour to stop the flood and convince Miss Parkinson to tell me the matter, Narcissa, I fear I may be later than anticipated coming home to change for the Sandovals'. Confident we shall not miss the guest of honour's presentation to society; only perhaps some of the entertainments designed to heighten our anticipation of that moment.

Having promised Narcissa I would return home to-night, am gratified to be able to state that this week has seen significant strides in addressing the scandalous claims in Saturday's Prophet.

Between numerous meetings at the Ministry, went several times to Bole and his senior editors to backtrack the allegations to their sources. Most particularly, the 'informant' in league with the traitorous Black.

Crispin has been fairly encamped at the St James' house, as indeed have I the last few nights; it has been easier to return there as a base of operation close to Buckingham and the Ministry. There have been numerous jaunts to camps and a good deal more interviews conducted in the relative ... comfort ... of London.

The entire Council are shocked by the apparent extent of deception required to conceal such a large problem, if indeed it is the case that the chattels are under threat from an unknown virus. Moreover it has been most unsatisfactory and egregiously damaging to allow our previous efforts to proceed, knowing or suspecting that the underlying problem was an altogether different issue.

Of less clarity is the negligence, incompetence or complicity on the part of the Ministry personnel who ought to have caught wind of these events - if indeed, they are confirmed - long before the risks grew to such proportions. The Council are committed to any measures necessary to bring to justice all who have played a rôle in this deplorable situation.


Draco, I hope you passed a pleasant holiday, despite your separation from home. Do not think I have no appreciation for the gifts, although I thought you indicated they would not arrive in time? Perhaps you underestimated the speed of the owls you selected.

The clasp is particularly appropriate for your mother, since your cousin also gave her a new cloak. It is almost as if you consulted - though of course, that is unlikely! She shall make quite the entrance at the gala to-morrow.

As it's all over the papers this morning, there's no point not discussing it.

Summoned yesterday afternoon by an urgent fire call from Shroton. Preparations for Our Lord's visit were disrupted by a rather pervasive reaction to the news of Black's accomplice's capture. Several of the Mudblood sections of the camp took a notion to refuse to work. Apparently had the ridiculous idea that if they protested, we should be forced to negotiate. The camp enforcers attempted first to subdue them but in the scuffle an enforcer lost his wand to a mudblood.

He was stopped in a matter of moments, of course. But the administrator requested Council involvement immediately to oversee the investigation of the incident, as well as the subsequent trial of the remaining agitators.

Spent most of the night at the camp, along with Mulciber and Rookwood, to ensure that the plans and protections were well in order before the Lord Protector's scheduled arrival.

Cancelling tea, Ari, as you might expect. I've only a few hours to restore myself and then must return to the camp.

Harry, I'm glad to hear you are feeling more yourself.

Draco, I would like you to make sure you keep yourself from cold or draughts and do by all means see Madam Pomfrey at the first sign if you've caught anything. (That goes for you, Miss Parkinson, as well.)

The New London celebrations were, in a word, flawless.

Not a whisper of disturbance, I'm quite glad to report (and told Dolores it would not be a problem, with so many Ministry officers there). Miss Robins' preparations paid off in abundance, and apart from a minor bobble over the convocation (old Peakes really is far too doddering for public speaking anymore!), the festivities hit just the right note. The populace enjoyed the performances, I think, and listened with interest to the remarks. Most importantly, Our Lord was particularly pleased. I don't doubt that the young soloist in the chorale shall not soon forget being gifted with one of His rare smiles! Narcissa commented that if the child does not go to sing with Athena's coaches it will be a loss for her - and the nation. I trust the wireless coverage was adequate; there were certainly enough reporters and photographers to fill the newspapers with articles for at least a week. Even Lovegood turned up - and Skeeter, more's the pity.

It was also rather lucky that the weather was partly cloudy; it should have been a little too exposed on the dais for unbroken sunshine. As it was the breaks were just far enough apart to offer a little warmth without being too bright. The mudbloods Purity Control arranged for attendants worked out well, I must say. It was useful to hand off cloaks and be able to take them up again when desired. Very glad Narcissa brought her fur, as she grew a little shivery partway during the presentations.


Two major revelations to-day, as well: Miss Robins introduced us to her parents, and Crispin to his young lady-friend, Elaine Kirke. (Mrs Robins quite embarrassed me with a small tin of crystallised ginger as a token of appreciation 'for the encouragement' I've given her daughter this year.) As for Miss Kirke, she was a little tongue-tied at first, but Narcissa told me later that she was much more relaxed at the ball this evening. Crispin him-self seemed a touch nervous, presumably anxious for my approval of his choice of escort. On the contrary, there is nothing at all objectionable about Miss Kirke that I could tell. The Kirkes are not well off, as far as I know, but they have relatively few questionable relations and it would be altogether a suitable match, should it come to that.


Home now, though very tired. (Incidentally, Draco, saw your posts regarding Ned and since I saw Charles at the ball, I mentioned it. He has news for you which I shall include in your Owl to-morrow.)

It took nearly five drafts for the Prophet editors to produce an article on the camp escape worth reading. Juggling my time among their offices, Derbyshire, the Ministry and Buckingham this week-end has been exhausting.

Thirteen escaped - and only one fatality after nearly twenty hours of searching. Poor Bellatrix was livid (as was I), so much so that I feared the stress might make her ill. Jonathan Pucey nearly had his head handed to him, and no wonder. We discovered around dusk that the escape had actually occurred the night before - and the MLE had not been called in for several hours after the dictated protocol required!

Yaxley was burnt, it's true, but he is back on the trail and among the searchers. It's ridiculous that they should evade us for so long, but it strengthens my suspicion that they have outside help. How Black manages to enchant anyone else to his cause is beyond me. Yaxley swears he recognised one of the wizards helping them to Portkey away - chap who used to work for the MLE, if it can be believed! Unfortunately he couldn't confirm the sighting, though it wouldn't surprise me, if it were who he thought it was.

The Prophet's details are also enlightening. The night of the 19th, indeed! And where were the Enforcers? Waiting for a memo that was 'misplaced' - the clerical error to which the article alludes. Some delinquent, irresponsible clerk either neglected to deliver it or simply didn't think to make sure it reached the proper hands. Needless to say, there is a full inquiry in progress, along with decidedly unfortunate consequences for the individual or individuals who (deliberately or otherwise) blundered so egregiously.

As for this:
The Prophet has reason to believe that efforts to recover the escaping detainees were slowed by the capture of Quirinus Quirrell, former Hogwarts professor who had been discharged for sedition and was wanted on suspicion of conspiracy to murder the Lord Protector's son, Harry Marvolo, now a first-year student at Hogwarts.

Well. The capture of Quirrell occurred quite co-incidentally to the escape and had nothing whatsoever to do with the 'delay' in bringing in additional Aurors and Enforcers to recover the chattel. Misplaced the memo - completely unacceptable dereliction of duty! I know Bellatrix was positively incensed when we learnt of that little ... triviality. Wants a change in procedure, if they have any sense.


This evening saw me back up to Hogwarts to meet with the Headmistress concerning the full extent of corrective action required for the mudblood girl, our two mischief-makers and of course, Professor Macnair. Believe we have reached an accord that will be acceptable to the Lord Protector (in the case of young Marvolo) and to the Board of Governors (re: Macnair).

On the whole, however, I am extraordinarily relieved that I have a clear calendar to-morrow to recuperate. Pucey had better redouble his efforts if he expects to be able to recover ... at all.

Attended a general meeting of the MLE department yesterday (obvious reasons) and while in the Ministry corridors, Warrington begged a moment of my time. Asked if I would care to take a cup of tea with him in the canteen; ordinarily I avoid the Ministry's tea like the plague, but he seemed anxious to speak with me. I offered that we might go to my club or Wilton's if he liked, but he thanked me, saying instead that he was reluctant to stray so far from the office. I consented, then, and while I avoided drinking bagged tea he came round to his point regarding the mudblood camps and the difficulty of placing them among families.

Amidst his protestations, he pointed out the latest of Black's rants as well as Carrow's little poet as examples of the trouble. The problem, he seems to think, is that when in the constant influence of wizards, mudbloods do presume a station above themselves - it is the rare juvenile (Marvolo's Dennis comes to mind) who is both truly aware of his proper place and content to remain there. And wizards, too, fall into one of two categories: Either they loathe the creatures so much that they will not countenance them as house-servants; or they profess a healthy understanding of the social hierarchy, yet when in the presence of mudbloods and left to supervise them on an ongoing basis, tend over time to extend to them more than their fair complement of autonomy.

All of this I knew - that is the central problem and correcting for it is one of Purity Control's missions. Asked him if he had a point that was not already obvious. He grew contrite and whinged that he was only impressing upon me the difficulty and finally proceeded to request more time. Something about a preliminary report and surveys from the field, to identify candidate host families. As it was clear this was his aim all along, was not much impressed by his circuitous path to the looming petition. (To say nothing of circumventing Nott to plead with me directly.)

Told him to use testimonials from farms with mudbloods in service currently and to remind candidates that memories are modified for any mudblood outside the age limitations set by the Ministry. Reminded him that if memory charms are unreliable in certain subjects, there are other methods to ensure obedience. Suggested he focus on the 17-22-year-old set, possibly pick out one or two of the comelier ones and bring them along, as enticement. (Not, of course, that one would condone miscegenation, but it is decidedly more pleasant to look at a servant with a fair countenance - something to consider when planning additional help that will be visible to guests or visitors. Aesthetics are, after all, an influence on the desirability of something that may become a fixture in the home.)

Agreed to speak to Nott about setting the end of the month as a deadline for the report and recommendations, so that the pilot may begin by mid-March. He wanted to introduce me to his man Radapas - or was it Rupadam? - thankfully I had another appointment and could not be detained longer. Did not have to tell him that every mudblood working means one less to worry about revolting - and the news from the camps was not encouraging this morning. Two attempted escapes in the Derby camp Thursday and one in Stoke last night. Futile on their part - and a useless waste of resources.

Well, it sounds as if Warrington can be guided back onto the right track, at any rate. Instructed Crispin to find time with Nott next week to ensure that the programme is being vetted properly and that he is fully aware of my recommendations. Well, left instruction for Monday, at any rate, though I wished I had not already given him leave to vacate early for the week-end; would have called him back to go through the nomination parchments for Presto (a formality, but nonetheless), but remembered just as I pinched the powder that he mentioned spending Valentine's week-end in Swansea with friends. Had meant to go over the petition questions after MLE before luncheon, but Warrington's impromptu discussion put me off my timetable and it was after three when I returned to St James'. Quite forgot to retrieve them from Crispin's writing table, in the press of replying to other correspondence - and I confess I became engrossed by a review copy of Barton's forthcoming volume on the nán wū during the final years of the Qing dynasty, which has been on my desk for over a week. (Up quite late finishing it, in fact; which has put me quite behind on journal review - again!)


Amanda: Your observations on my reply to Draco were quite insightful, though I rather fear you have the wrong end of the wand on a few points. My dear sister, I am well aware that 'Hell hath no fury' but to put it mildly, there cannot be scorn intended where there was never any interest, can there be? My involvement with the family never extended beyond my obligations as a mentor and out of the esteem in which I hold my friend's memory. Any further designs that occurred to her only ever existed in the realm of her fantasy. More to the point, she misses the mark if she wishes to injure me; her demands have everything to do with visiting her own misery on her daughter, which as far as I can see accomplishes nothing. But at least for now, she seems to have quieted. (I wonder if she has bothered to pick up her journal and sees that I am neither threatened nor indeed much changed by her tactics.)

As to your point about rivalry, dear one, I must allow that it was different for us owing to our respective ages and naturally due to Father's condition; you must understand, however, that as no competitive spirit of that type exists between the boys, I am bewildered by the degree of intensity burgeoning between two who do not view themselves, as far as I know, as siblings at all.


Magical Commerce this Monday; should be able to discuss exceptions to the regulations in order to keep Hogwarts provisioned. Might succeed in time for some remainder of the season. Particularly as Clarriker seems already to be making inquiries about the substances I am confident the Committee will agree to import.

For to-day, however, Narcissa ought to be awake shortly and we have plans to go down to London for the holiday. I think some exercise - perhaps a walk through Regent's Park? - to make up for sitting so long last night with Barton.

First of the month already - inconceivable. Usual accounts to attend to this afternoon.

This morning was the quarterly meeting for Purity Control, including both the Muggleborn Labour Committee and the half-blood placements. I don't recall the placements for students working out this late in the year before, but at least it's done now. There was some discussion of the reluctance of pureblood families to take on mudblood servants. Pointed out that for many older families, house elves are sufficient and less of a drain on capital resources; for others there is still a feeling that using mudbloods in place of house elves is nothing more than a bourgeois fancy. Warrington will be organising a plan to change the perception that mudbloods in the home are neither a passing fad nor a common and paltry substitute for a bonafide house elf. (Of course, efforts from the Division of Wizarding Communication will be instrumental, as well as other developments. But those cannot be rushed, whereas Wizarding Communication and in particular the Public Information staff may be utilised to achieve the desired shift along any timetable we choose to set.)

Saw Barty at the meeting and inquired after Regulus; he reports that all is well and that the two of them continue to find the arrangement acceptable.


Crispin's just brought in the post, which includes an answer for which I have been waiting, so that clears up one of the pending matters.


The Manor's grounds are looking somewhat bare now that they are put to bed for the winter, though this will naturally be corrected for Christmas. Narcissa's winter garden should be in bloom in time for the party and the holly bower (for the veranda doors off the main ballroom) is coming along well. I noticed it this morning only because there was frost on the terrace and I diverted to the windows on my way out to have a look at the weather. Nearly all the trees have their leaves down and the dwarfs have been over the place to collect them at least thrice in the past fortnight.

Speaking of preparations, I have offered to review the invitation list for our party at the Manor, as poor Narcissa is quite overtaken by preparations for the St Mungo's benefit and does not wish our traditional celebrations to suffer as a result. Will have Crispin cross-check the acceptances from last year so that the invitations may go in the post to-morrow or Wednesday.

The blood traitor resurfaced yet again, like an insect one thinks one has crushed, only to have it scuttle away after lifting one's boot. So of course, the last couple of days have been a bit on the calamitous side.

After the blackguard (no pun intended) retreated from the journal where he made a nuisance of himself, he apparently decided to incite an attempted break-out at Cheswell. It's all in the papers. He must have accomplices in this country, whom he induced through some method (doubtless an illicit and indecent form of magic) to disrupt the camps. Bella believes, as do I, that these culprits are the same miscreants who corrupted the Goblins enough to gain access to Gringotts and rob the bank last month. It makes sense: Their modus operandi seems to lie more in encouraging - possibly forcing - members of these inferior castes to rise up in revolt, creating chaos and bother for the rest of us.

Bella called upon a number of the MLE consultants to come to the scene, on the chance that some of Black's accomplices were there directing the action. No such luck, more's the pity. It took several hours to round up all the escaped Muggles, but not a wizard or witch mingled among them. Whomever started the riot must have Disapparated as soon as they reached a safe distance.

Naturally, after such a long night, I could not be expected to maintain the better part of my agenda on Friday. I confess I quite forgot to notify Crispin to cancel everything apart from tea at Hogwarts. I had every intention of doing so, but when I returned to the Manor, I found that the elf had allowed the bedroom fire to bank and die. He stammered something about not expecting me back home that evening. Utter incompetence - I ought to have done with it and behead the creature. If it had managed to get issue before now, I might have done so already. At any rate, by the time he arranged things to my comfort, I was both too fatigued and too out of sorts to give a thought to my clerk. Narcissa, wonderful woman, kindly set him to rights when he inquired after me around nine, and then compounded her splendid value by sending up a tray around eleven.

The one item I was certain to keep yesterday was tea. There was really no reason to cancel an afternoon engagement, and moreover, I had no wish to disappoint the children after we'd promised to be there.

I fear I rather did disappoint, despite all that, for I had many matters weighing on my mind and must have appeared ... distracted during our interview with Harry, Draco and Pansy. I knew that Pansy wished some private discussion and I was happy to oblige her; but even this I had to cut shorter than I would have liked in order to ensure adequate time for my topics of conversation with the Headmistress.

I have been growing concerned of late with a certain sullenness which I detect in the demeanour of some of the other students, even those who claim to have befriended Harry. Some of this is to be expected, of course, and while I shall necessarily do that in my power to prepare him and Draco to take care of themselves, it is part of growing up that we must all, in the end, fight our own battles and stand our own ground, or be trampled.

Nonetheless, the resentment of their status and resulting theft of valuable items (if they are related), suggests that the other students are not, in fact, as respectful of class as they ought to be. Particularly with the Lord Protector planning to attend Hogwarts next week, this presents a potential embarrassment. I should not like to think of His displeasure should anyone dare to show less than the proper deference to His son.

One individual in particular troubled me, and when I mentioned this to Professor McGonagall, she quite accommodatingly sent for the wretch. While his journal comments to students such as Longbottom seemed oddly bold, in person, he was gratifyingly cowed enough. He could barely look up even when I instructed him to do so. She has told me that he is Amycus' creature; presumably that is more than enough to keep him in his place under normal circumstances. Perhaps this additional dose of contact with a real wizard shall remind him what reason he has to fear.

Looking at the urchin brought home to me, in a way I have not felt so viscerally in some time, how vitally important the Lord Protector's New Order is to our safety and survival. I have always believed with every fibre that dominance over the more prolific, more bestial and less intelligent Muggle population is the only way to truly ensure Wizard prosperity. But this ... abomination, born not of the natural conception between witch and wizard, but rather the unnatural product of Muggle interference and blood-tampering, has no sense of birthright, no idea of the heritage to which real witches and wizards are heir, no cognisance of the higher purpose for which real Wizardkind was meant. This runion, this caitiff, has no hope of truly understanding the power that generation after generation have passed from father to son, mother to daughter, and thus, he is incapable of ever really attaining mastery of his full potential, or more importantly, the extent to which his progenitors have condemned him to a half-life.

In short, he can never be completely a wizard, because he can never be completely trusted not to sympathise with his animalistic forebears.

This week has been quite a study in contrasts: Half-bloods, Muggles and now this Mudblood abomination. I wonder if he has any sense that the ones to blame for his lot are not we, who have at least accorded him some measure of existence among his betters, but the very Muggles who beset him with the burden of powers which he cannot ever truly call his own. By making him the object of a failed attempt to usurp our proper place, it is they, and not we, who have spawned the grotesque creature that he is.

It convinces me more than ever that what we do is necessary, the only acceptable course and above all, right.