I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good: Private message to Sally-Anne Perks and Pansy Parkinson

[alt_terry]

First of all, I'm so very sorry that Madam Umbridge is punishing the two of you this way. It sounds awful.

But it sounds familiar, too. So I wanted to write to you both about something the git did to me. It was a lot like this. But I got through it, thanks mostly to Sally-Anne, actually, so I hope if I tell you about it, it might help you both, too.

You know my friend Dudley, who I met at Lincoln Castle. I sort of hinted a little about what happened: the git made me hurt him. He did it to show me I was helpless, that I could be forced to do something totally against my own values: be cruel to someone I cared about. He wanted to make us into enemies instead of allies. That way, he'd have all the power.

The way I figure it, what Madam Umbridge is doing is sort of like forcing Pansy to perform crucio on Sally-Anne. And it's for the same reasons the git tried to turn Dudley and me against each other. He figured if he could get us to start hating each other, it would make us each weaker, and we could never challenge him.

So.

See, um. The git and his sister liked knives. Really, really liked them. They used them for certain kinds of...play. Right after they put that blood binding spell on me, they strapped Dudley down to a table, and they gave me a knife, and they told me that I had to uh, use it on him.

I refused at first. So they told me if I didn't do it, they'd put me under imperio, give me their biggest knife, and they'd make me go all the way.

That was the choice: do it of my own volition, with a small knife, and maybe Dudley would live. Maybe. Or be forced against my will to kill him.

I used the small knife.

I think I almost went a little bit mad afterward. I felt so sick about what I'd done, and too ashamed to tell you all on the Lock. So I was paging through my journal, reading what my friends had written to me, and I ran across the essay Sally-Anne had written about crucio. You should go back and re-read it yourselves. Hatred is the primary and anger and contempt are the secondaries. Anything you can do to move away from those emotions will help undo the damage. Madam Umbridge is trying to make those seep into you, but I don't think she'll manage it. I've seen your friendship--everyone on the Lock can see it--and it's so strong. That'll help protect you.

What helped me afterward were what Sally-Anne calls the oppositionals to crucio (guilt, compassion, transference and indifference). The one that helped me the most was compassion. I went to find Dudley afterward. I took a chance and took out my wand--that took trust--and I healed the wound I'd given him. He took a chance by letting me get near enough to him to do it. That's how we started repairing things between us, despite everything the git tried to do to force us apart.

We walked away from Lincoln Castle together, and we're roommates and friends now. And yeah, he's a muggle and he can't do magic, and he teases me about swotty swots who wave sticks around, but we're friends. Despite everything.

I asked Mr and Mrs Longbottom if they had any other suggestions. They mentioned a book: Regaining Mind and Soul: After Imperio. I guess most books about Imperio talk about how to throw it off, but this one talks about how to get past if you can't, if you've had Imperio put on you and been forced to do something awful against your will. Which is sort of like this, isn't it?

Anyway. I'm not telling you this because I'm looking for any attention for me, because of what I had to do. That's not the point of this at all. I'm just telling you, I know what it feels like, but compassion helps afterward, and Dudley and I are good friends now. We got through this, and you will too.

Oh...and I never said: thanks for writing that essay, Sally-Anne, about crucio. You have no idea how much it helped, when I really needed it. Never thought an essay about one of the dark arts could be so useful that way.

I won't worry if you don't reply right away. Obviously, you have other things on your mind. And hang in there.

Dudley says: I knew whose fault it really was. And he deserved what he got. Don't let the pink bitch keep you down. She'll get hers too.

Terry and Dudley

Comments

Private message to Terry Boot

[alt_sally_anne]

Do you remember first year when Harry hexed Neville with the Invictus Jinx? It made him insult everyone, all day long. He called me a stuck-up prissy know-it-all, or something like that.

He couldn't stop himself.

The funny thing was that although the jinx wasn't his fault, I think it kind of was making him say things that he's too polite to say ordinarily but he DID mean, at least a little. You know? He didn't call RON a stuck-up prissy know-it-all, he called Ron a thick git, or something like that.

Neville hated it but everyone else thought it was funny, even his friends. And once I realised it was a jinx I didn't hold it against Neville and it really didn't bother me at all, and I thought it was because I knew it was a compulsion jinx and not something he was doing because he wanted to. But actually it was because I didn't much care what Neville thought of me.

Anyway.

Now I'm trying to decide if it would be worse if Umbridge made Pansy hurt me physically. On one hand -- knowing Pansy doesn't mean it makes it hurt less. Knowing that the cruciatus curse was really being performed by Umbridge even if she was using Pansy's body to do it, that wouldn't make it hurt any less because it would still be cruciatus. On the other hand it would be over a lot faster.

But it might just about kill Pansy.

I'm glad the essay was useful, at least.

Re: Private message to Terry Boot

[alt_terry]

The point of why she's doing it this way, I guess, is she's trying to make you wonder whether Pansy really means what she's saying, deep down inside. Umbridge is hoping you will, and she assumes that it's brought up to the surface, it will kill the friendship. Which suits her purposes perfectly.

Looking at what she's been doing, it really strikes me how much she suffers from black and white thinking. She goes hunting for any smidgen of black in people, and then she writes that person off forever. Punishes them, rejects them. This one's a half-blood. That one's uppity. This one's disobedient. That one does things I think are silly. And she wants everyone else to do the same. It's as if she draws smaller and smaller circles around herself, and soon she'll be standing there on one foot, the only perfect person in the world, apparently, hating everybody.

She would never get how Dudley could think I'm a swotty swot and still like me. Or how Neville might think (deep down inside) maybe Ron's a little thick, but still want to be his friend. I'm sure you all get exasperated with me because of the stuff I do because I'm still trying to get over being crawling boot. And because I hate the dark arts so reflexively that sometimes I come across like a prig.

People are complicated. They can be friends and like each other even if they aren't perfect. But that doesn't mean the friendship isn't real and strong.

Happy birthday, Sally-Anne.

[alt_pansy]

Thank you.