( From the journal of Oscar G. Jugson )
Gone to the Ministry of Magic.
Be back after lunch.
--O. Jugson
((mmkay, kids. Jugson's going down. He may or may not go after a big Auror, still haven't decided which one. Maybe Moody 'cause Jugson's deluded like that. But someone's going to have to kill him. An auror or another Death Eater, it doesn't matter. Volunteers? :) ))
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Been too quiet around here, eh? Been quiet on the streets too.
Lots of shops closed in Diagon Alley. Not a lot of people around either. Makes it easier to break into candy stores and look their stuff. The taffy's just a wee bit dusty, but mum said not to let things go to waste.
's funny. For a moment I could've sworn someone was trying to kill me.
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I'm beginning to hate free speech. Bastards think they're clever writing stupid things on a bloody paper.
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| 2008-03-22 21:25 |
| Squat. |
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It's not a squat if the rent's been paid for the month, is it? It just so happens that the owner's gone for a vacation and I've taken it as my civic duty to watch over her property until she's ready to claim it.
Pity too 'cause the houses right beside it are mysteriously bereft of neighbors. Some sort of murder some time ago. Can't have lawless elements roaming around and all these houses left empty. Who knows what kind of people will settle here.
So, yeah, I've got a new address. And some friends have settled in the other houses too. To watch over them, of course. Make sure nothing gets set on fire, that kind of thing. They're going to get boarded up anyway. You can't have abandoned houses when there are homeless kids.
If anyone's got a problem with it or you're the land owner looking to give us the boot , you can send your complaints to Mr. F Greyback, who now happens to be my, er, room mate provided my room's got strong locks. He's sure to get back to you as soon as possible.
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Isn't there anything happening in this town? Besides the things that are happening, of course. As much fun as it could be to go around smashing mudblood schools, I've taken it to my head to keep my nose clean. Azkaban isn't a place I want to visit again.
All these security rules, Merlin! Curfews, aurors patrolling at all hours. Even the old lady next door is afraid to get her copy of the Prophet from the porch. Which is just as well since we haven't got a subscription.
There are serious people in black standing around the Floo tunnels and the train stations. They have that nonchalant-but-official look about them which makes me worry wonder if they're from the Ministry.
You can't take a breath in this place without being watched.
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Saw my name and face on the Evening Prophet. Cleared of all charges, did you read? Cleared of all fucking charges. That means I've been wrongfully accused of certain murders that I clearly could not have done 'cause I can't even perform basic spells. That means I was found in Fawcet's house because I was looking for counceling. That's her job, innit? Can't fault me for that.
What was it the Wizengamont said? "This boy is what he is because we have failed him." Yeah, fucking right you filthy lot have failed me. Keep me out of Hogwarts, why don't you.
Waltzed right out of Azkaban and wiped my feet on the Ministry welcome mat, dint I? Aurors ought to concentrate on nabbing real criminals instead of wasting tax payers' galleons on nicking kids.
I should get some compensation for spending all that time in fucking Azkaban. Fucking Dementors. Fucking, fucking dementors. I'll never be able to sleep again for the rest of my life.
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Why's everyone so glum? You're all acting like someone died.
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*not-so-secure owl. could be intercepted by clever aurors. no names and no addresses. unsigned.*
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I had that dream again. The one where I die.
There's loads of people, right? I think it's the Ministry steps, but it's also in front of Gringotts, or the train station. Things are weird in dreams. The place is congested with people. Some of them I recognize, and some I don't.
There's my mum on one side. She's looking for me. My sister's with her. My sister, she can't speak. Something's wrong with her. A complication when my mum was pregnant with her. She can't hear either. Her name's Olivia.
It's a protest march. That's why there's so many people. We're all shouting, right? Down with the government. We're throwing rocks at people, sending hexes into the sky. It's almost over. We've almost won.
My mum's shouting for me to come home. Stop, she says, come home, Oscar. I shout that I can't hear her. The crowd chants along with me.
Someone in the crowd notices my mum. They're dragging her away. It's the mudbloods that go first. And then we'll go for the bloodtraitors. They're dragging my mum away. I yell at Olivia to run. After the mudbloods and the bloodtraitors, it's the halfs that have to go. Olivia can't hear me. She can't hear
From the corner of my eye, through the crowd, I see the Dark Lord someone. I've only seen Him a handful of times in the waking world. I know Him.
He talks to me only in this dream. He asks me what I would die for, what I think is worth dying for. I see my mum being dragged away, shouting at me. I don't see Olivia. I see Him though. He tells me there's eternal glory for those who die for the revolution. He asks me if my life is worth that.
Yes, I tell him. And then it all turns green.
Then I wake up.
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The Ministry business went down without a hitch. Lots of people came. Pureblood youth and supporters all the way from Manchester City and Leeds. They made a trip of it, those lads. Hard as nails. Good boys from proper wizarding families all coming together in a show of power against a Ministry that has lost touch with the people it swore to serve. There were girls too. Nice looking ones.
The point is we no longer trust the Ministry. The point is the Ministry is a group of dodgy geezers who are steering our government in a direction we don't agree with. The point is we've had enough. If the Ministry continues its downward spiral, we won't hesitate to cease power and run things ourselves.
Protests and riots are a form of conditioning, after all. It normalizes chaos. When chaos is normal and acceptable, it will be easier for everyone to transition from an archaic and irrelevant institution to a new order. A better one.
I pissed in the Ministry fountain too. I can say it was a symbolic act of defiance, but really, there should be a comfort room open to protesters in Ministry grounds. It's difficult to dissent with a full bladder.
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I don't understand why people are breeding left and right these days. Almost everywhere I go, there's got to be a pregnant woman. There's nothing wrong with wanting to start a family --if you're pureblood-- but why now? Why when we're on the brink of a revolution and there's social upheaval and civil unrest?
If I ever bring a kid into this world, I'll want to make sure it'll be a world he's got a chance in. When he's got nothing to be ashamed of for being a wizard. I'll make sure his spot in Hogwarts won't be given to some mudblood. His classmates, professors and headmaster will be pureblood just like him and they won't teach him rubbish muggle studies. I'll make sure the leaders of his nation have his best interest in mind and not pander to the muggle prime minister like some clown. Until that happy time, no kids for me. I'm not that cruel.
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I wish social ills were as easy to get rid of as severe bruising. All you'd have to do is to put an ice pack on it and tell it to fuck off. I'll be sitting here with an ice pack just in case.
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I had to get to the apothecary in Knockturn Alley today to pick up something that'll stop my hands from shaking so much. Once there, the manager was yelling at this bloke to leave. Seems the apothecary in Knockturn now only exclusively caters to purebloods. So that's a good thing. The local boys too, when they play quidditch, refuse to let the scum in. Or when they do let mudbloods play, you can count to five before they all turn on him with bludgers and bats. What's that smell in the air? Smells like a new world order.
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I hate muggle cooking. Ideally, it shouldn't be different from wizard cooking, especially the basic food. But you can tell, definitely. One bite and you know it's done by filthy muggle hands. Then you lose your appetite.
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There's a rat in the Pureblood Wizarding Youth hostel. A large one. Suggest the strongest rat poison commercially available. Then suggest the best illegal rat poison. It's a large rat.
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We're glad to let the Wizarding public know that the plans of educating the masses who insist on living in denial is working. Already, we've got chapters in Manchester, Cambridge, Sheffeild and Leeds. And then of course, London. We're having great progress in London. So many new members. Seems that the Pureblood youth are finally taking a stand, eh? Also, we've got two public officials making bold statements of support. We'll make sure to vote for them when we reach the age of majority. More important than the public officials, The Knockturn Rejects, a popular if underground band has expressed their support for us too. They're holding a benefit concert in the park next week. Purebloods get in for free, all else get a focking kick to the face. Now, the Ministry doesn't want to let this leaked out, but our friends in certain departments have projected that if this "trend" keeps going, the wizards of London will be a completely Pureblood population in two to three years. Two to three years? Let's cut that down to ONE.
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