Carys Gumboil would like her life back now

I don't quite see what's so bad about being a Welcome Witch. I've rather enjoyed it, myself.

[WARD: PRIVATE]

I feel as though I should have more faith in medicine. Perhaps it would be better if there were just a potion to cure whatever is wrong with me, but the idea of therapy just makes me want to turn the other way.

Maybe if I were certain I was in good hands. I suppose I could ask around St. Mungo's, but god, I don't want my coworkers knowing. My reputation has suffered enough.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to, though. Alastor means well, but we don't talk like we used to. That's probably my fault, as well.

[/WARD]

You'll all have to excuse me while I brag for just a moment. I have a brilliant little sister, whose design has been chosen to take the place of that hideous Magic Is Might statue in the Ministry's Atrium. I'm privileged enough to have seen it, and it's going to be wonderful. I'm so very proud of you, Cassie!

[WARDED: PRIVATE]

I keep thinking. Would it still be like this if I'd just gone to prison? This world would have to seem so much brighter, in comparison.

I don't like all this division. The notion that Muggle-borns are the only ones who can possibly understand Muggle-borns disturbs me. We should be coming together, not drawing new lines and reinforcing the distinction.

I'm so tired.

[/WARD]

[WARDED: ALASTOR]

Happy birthday, my love. Have a wonderful day, and I'll see you for dinner tonight. Six-thirty, sharp.

[/WARD]

I am counting on all of you at the Ministry to remind the Head Hitwizard that he will not have a very pleasant birthday if he loses track of time and is late for his dinner reservations.

[WARD: ALASTOR]

You know politics better than I do. Should I be as worried about the Ministry's influences as the rest of my fellow Muggleborns seem to be?

[PRIVATE]

I had hoped we were past this. Or if not past, then had at least managed to capture or drive into silence those most outspoken purists. I don't care if they're out there. I just don't want to hear their nauseating philosophies. And I'm so tired of talking about bloody Rodolphus Lestrange.

[/WARD]

It's that time of the year again. To those seeking a position at St. Mungo's, I wish you the very best of luck in your journey, and I look forward to seeing you in Spell Damage.

And to those of you recently accepted into the DMLE training program, please don't take this the wrong way - I'm sure you're lovely people who I would enjoy meeting under any other circumstances - but bear in mind that you will likely have a much more enjoyable career if you and I don't become good friends, and I do not want to see you in Spell Damage. Be careful out there, and that goes for you old hands as well. I know you've missed me, but I'm sure we'd have a better time catching up if you just stopped by for tea.

[WARD: ALASTOR]

I don't know if anyone's mentioned to you, but I'm the one treating Rodolphus Lestrange. I'm perfectly fine, of course, so don't fret. I don't know if this latest guard is an Auror or a hitwizard or what, but if he's one of yours, you should know he's doing a splendid job.

Anyway, I think I'm going to stay here until things die down for the night. Don't worry about dinner. I'll eat from the canteen, and Cassie can eat leftovers if you don't want to cook anything.

I'll be home later tonight. I love you.

[WARDED: CASSIE]

I'm back in Yorkshire. Alastor says that it's all right if you'd still like to stay with us through the summer. Unless you're certain you wouldn't rather stay in Penmaenmawr? Of course you're always welcome here, but this place is really an appalling mess and the company here is probably lacking in comparison.

Give my love to mum and dad and Francis.

[/WARD]

I'm really not dead, sorry for any confusion on that

I've never been one for lateness. Especially when it can't be considered fashionable, which I definitely believe is the case here.

Anyroad, there is certainly no place like home.

( snow white's stitching up the circuitboards; synapse's slipping through the hidden door. )