The priceless thoughts of Mr R.B. Lestrange

Hey, kid. It's been good to see that you and Draco are mating around again. I could sense that there was some tension there for a few weeks, but I was aiming not to interfere so long as it was just chilliness and not outright hostility. Glad to see that you appear to have things sorted.

Another thing- maybe we could have another look at that egg this week? Overheard some interesting talk between Professors Grubbly-Plank and Brutka. They were debating whether or not the noise that came out of the egg was a Mermish language, and if so, which dialect. Now, it never did occur to me that the noise might be a language, and I've never heard any Mermish, at that. But it gives us something to go on, doesn't it?

How are you coming along with, ah, other things?

Duckie,

Why don't you come round my rooms for tea this afternoon? I've brought back some sweets and other delights from last night's party at Malfoy Manor that you're sure to enjoy.

Want to check in with you too, about what occured in Hogsmeade last weekend. There was some kind of talk this morning about those French lads who got at the wrong end of your wand- I didn't catch the details, but the Matron's looking to speak to Froissart about them, so I can only guess that they've been up to no good once more. Also heard that one of them took a girl to the ball who ended up extremely put off by his, ah, ungentlemanly behaviour.

Thought maybe we could talk about what happened to you and see that it doesn't happen again. They didn't...?

Anyway, come see your old uncle and we'll sort it out.

Morning, love. I think you should be up and about by now, or soonish.

Something happened yesterday, and it might've led me in the direction of pink-parchment girl. Maybe. I don't want to jump to anything resembling a conclusion, so let me tell you what happened.

I had the classroom open at three for any students who wanted to practise duelling before exams. I was supervising, of course, but it's rare that I ever have to step in. Most students are respectful about casting hexes at each other when they're under a teacher's watch- even if he's on the other side of the room.

Anyway, some shouting and screaming broke out between two girls, and when the smoke had cleared, one of them had something purple growing out the side of her face, and the other was in some kind of temper. It was Daphne Greengrass (and Miss Bullstrode her victim), who's usually a very level-headed sort, if a bit prone to dramatic flourishes. Sweet Circe, but she does have a sharp tongue on her when she's worked into a state! I ended up sending her to my office to re-arrange the books and calm down.

Just after four-thirty I cleared the classroom and headed up to my rooms to change. Now, you know that surveillance mirror in my office I've told you about? I had the receiving version propped up on the fireplace mantle in my sitting area, and as I passed it what do you suppose I saw? Not Miss Greengrass re-arranging my books, or even shuffling around with a glower on her face. No, she was instead very quietly and effectively searching through my things. She had the desk drawers open, and studied each and every bit of parchment within- nothing terribly revealing there. I usually chuck invitations and other bits of junk post inside them. After, she approached the trunk under the window and then, cleverly perceiving that it might be a good idea to leave it alone (there's a boggart in there), slowly backed off. So then she went over to the walls and the fireplace and started looking at photographs, even taking them down to study them. You've seen most of them- taken through the years at events and parties, and most of them pretty old by now. Lots from my Falcons days, some from Hogwarts.

Now, none of this by itself is terribly condemning. It just proves she's quite the little snoop. But what gave me pause was the look on her face. Remember how you described the pink-parchment notes as sounding "obsessed?" Well, there was a little of that to her expression, a sort of wistful longing, you might say?

(Needless to say, I went back down to my office and told her to leave. She had put everything back in order, mostly, but looked terribly anxious- and no longer wistful, I might add. But then I did burst in on her rather abruptly.)

And then I still thought it might be nothing, but I couldn't get the way she looked out of my head. So, I asked Harry a few questions and learned that Miss Greengrass does, in fact, have pink parchment. She also has a date to the ball - Barney Bole, one of my newts, who's also on the list for Ancient Runes and Dark Arts.

So, I thought I should ask you: what do you think of Ms Greengrass? Has she ever shown any malice or even displeasure toward you?

Hello, love. Are you busy enough to be going in circles yet?

Since he's no longer after me to join in his most recent caper, I gather that my brother took my suggestion and invited you to be his partner, instead? If so, thanks for that. Much as I understand his aspirations, he doesn't have to share a castle with the cow, and I do.

But the real reason I'm writing is to ask if you and Lucius will be at the St. Mungo's Gala on Saturday evening? I didn't originally plan to attend, but since I'm going to be at St. Mungo's during that day, anyway, I figured I might as well show my handsome face.

Now, this isn't one of those events where they have a bachelor auction, is it? I remember that one a few years back... well, I think that was the Witch's Institute? Still, I wanted to check, because as it so happens I'm spoken for this Christmas. It would be a great favour to me if you could discretely put the word out, in that exceptionally talented way your have for passing must-know information along.

I don't suppose you could spare an hour or two tonight? It doesn't matter the hour.

Had myself a lot of tossing and turning last night. Even opened the firewhisky, but that didn't seem to help. Harry asked me a question but I'm not sure the answer I gave was the right one. Not a "what's the best strategy for defending yourself against a dragon?" type of question, either. Or even a "what do these wet sheets in the morning mean?" question. A real question.

Being a role-model and shaping the minds of future generations is harder than it looks. And my supposedly "well-honed" instincts are shoddier than I thought (a good deal shoddier than anyone suspects, that much is for certain). When I volunteered for head of Harry's personal security, I reckoned it would be a fairly straight-forward task- keep the kid clear of anyone or thing that might hurt him, and that's that. Cos anyone who'd try to hurt a kid, no matter their cause, would have it coming, yeah. But he's being hurt now, even if it's not in a life-threatening way, and the one doing the hurting isn't a person but a complex web of different elements that I suspect also includes me.

Not sure there's anything I can do about it, though.

(This is Rabastan Lestrange taking dictation for Auror Crouch, who is currently alive but sans journal. Nope, not taking the piss.)


Pennifold. Hope you've not accepted other employment already. Need several things done prior to start of business tomorrow.

* Contact V. Runge. Cancel planned service and recall body to morgue.

* Note: first appointment 6:00 with Yaxley, Hopkirk, Lestrange. Already arranged. Want to see you before that. Make it half-five.

* Contact Pelton. Tell her I'll be waiting at half-seven to review her examination of the body. Tell her to block off two hours at least.

* Note: I have it on authority that you allowed my office to be searched. Am not holding you accountable, but will pay significant bonus if you manage to recover all of it by noon tomorrow. Presume you have an inventory of what was removed to cross check

Rory -

Are you observing tonight? I forgot to look and see if it was cloudy. I should have remembered-

Well, I know it's not Saturday but if you want to have a drink I wouldn't say no.

Rod was just here, you see.

Well. I've already had a few.

Old friend...



Don't suppose there's anything you want to tell me?

Rory -

You up for a chat?

- Raz




Soz, I was going to leave it like that, but it's hardly inviting, is it? Neither of us have seen much of each other lately, and, well, I know that there's a lot of reasons that I'm lying low. That Word Has It list of bachelors was printed and the avalanche of attention that followed had me scurrying for cover. Then there was the row with Gwe Professor Acton, her walking off the Duelling Club...

None of it has a thing to do with you, but then again I reckon it does, because, ah, I've been a bit worried that your opinion of me, meagre as it may have been before, might have further suffered. I asked you for advice on how to avoid Gwen's attentions, when I wasn't being completely forthright and truthful about what had happened with her. Now I wouldn't blame you if you think me some heart-stomping lothario who enjoys giving some poor spinster a little bit of hope before snatching it away. The truth is more complicated than that, but I'm not exactly proud of myself, either.

When you can have anything you want, at any time, it can become very difficult to say No. Or to make the right choice. I'm usually much better about doing so, but even in the past there was always an easy escape route, a whole New London to disappear into, like my stall at Borough Market, or Hampstead Heath (good for flying). I'm not even just talking about women, but escaping other things, too. But I'm probably not making much sense, am I? Blast, I should have written this out and practised first.

Anyway, I hope we can have that chat. I'd like to. I hope you are doing well.

Madam, I am a cad.

Is that too dramatic of an opening? So it is. Only I've just now noticed that I utterly failed to note the invitation to Hogsmeade that you extended to me a few days ago. I'm not usually caught unawares, but I will admit that being around so many children has taken some getting used to. That is, in some ways I am accustomed to the company of children, it's just that they're usually closer to my own age. I do believe I owe you an apology for my oversight and wish to express that it was just that: an oversight, and not a slight.

Truthfully, I wouldn't have been able to make it that night. I was meeting with the wranglers to discuss security and the Dementors, and then I had a lesson plan to make. I was lucky I was able to bolt down a spot of roast chicken in the Great Hall between the two tasks. If you would care to meet in the village another time, however, I'd be most amenable. I admit I sometimes feel at a loss when it comes to dealing with some of the rivalries and animosity that have erupted in my classroom, especially surrounding the Boggart lessons. Perhaps I look at the past through rosy-tinted goggles, but I can't help but think things were a bit easier when I was that age. Anger was solved quickly, with a quick hex or punch in the nose, and then all was forgotten. Eh, probably it just feels that way now, looking back on it. Any road up, you seem to have a hidden touch with the kids that I could learn a thing or two from. Your advice to Miss Patil about asking after private messages, for example, that was dead impressive. I think you could teach me a thing or three about being a good professor, Professor.

Plus, I could jolly well do with a pint. Let me know if you fancy one in the near future.

-Raz