What it's worth
For the greater good.
Eyes closed a bit tighter than normal, Dolores drew a ragged breath through her nose and sighed. Her right hand loosened it's grip slightly around the sleek, dark quill. It took her only a few moments to regain her composure, and she opened her eyes again, glaring down at the parchment laying in front of her. The words shimmered in the faint candle light, a lovely red shade colouring them. Only four remains.
For the greater good.
She hardly managed to contain a small gasp. Tears had already started gathering in the corner of her eyes minutes ago, but she refused to let them fall. Her desk was messy enough already.
She could've cast a charm to clean up the growing pool of blood from the delicate wood, but for some reason the sight of it made her feel calm and... safe. It was a lovely shade of dark red, just like the words she had written only moments ago.
It was a good thing she bought that blood quill a few years back. It was useful then, and invaluable now. Her shoulders slumped a bit at the memories. Back than she used it to teach some manners to those insufferable devils they called children at Hogwarts, to make them think twice before behaving badly – to achieve order. Order was all she wanted. Oh, how she hated children. Potter, in particular.
It was all his fault! She slammed the quill hard against the parchment with fury, only to shriek both in surprise and pain, and the blood just kept pouring, even more wildly now. Tears eventually started to roll down, mixing with the now dry words on the paper. For a minute she sobbed quietly, then took a deep breath and examined her left hand. Bloody and scared. Perfect.
For the greater good.
She needed this. After her "dismissal" from Hogwarts, chaos seemed to claim everything. Cornelius's resignation, that old, senile Dumbledore's return to the school - and of course the Dark Lord. It took her a year to finally adjust to a world that seemed to be driving itself to complete ruin and disorder. She was pure and unblemished among the corrupt, the rotten and foul, yet they treated her like a monster. Insane and evil, they said, but she didn't blame them. They were blind, all of them. If anything, she pitied them for not seeing the world for what it was – a festering hole tainted with dirty and dangerous half-breeds and muggle-borns, bringing shame to the words wizard and witch. Still, it was her they despised, when they should have been grateful. She only wanted to bring order to the chaos. She felt so alone.
Dolores considered herself a good person - a decent woman who would remain loyal to her cause, even when things seemed to be the darkest. A true Hufflepuff, Cornelius said right after the day he signed his resignation. She thought it was lovely of him to pay her one last visit, but she could not show him the support he wanted. She needed to remain loyal to the Ministry, her job, her life, her ideals, not him. A true Hufflepuff indeed.
For the greater good.
Cornelius was gone, Scrimgeour had been killed and the new Minister… Dolores was neither blind, nor stupid. She could see the signs of the Imperius curse on Pius Thicknesse, she noticed how blank his face and empty his smile was whenever someone greeted him in the hallway. It terrified her. She always regarded the Ministry as a fortress, a haven that would protect her from harm, which endured every attempt at conquest.
Yet she showed only loyalty. She let out a girlish, high-pitched and somewhat uneasy giggle as she took a moment to look around her spacious office. The sweet pink shade always made her calm, even when she was fated to butcher her hand with her own quill. She may have been terrified and doubtful about the new government, but she couldn't deny they shared the same beliefs. Lord Voldemort despised half-breeds and muggle-borns – so did she. Pius Thicknesse gave her control of the newly founded Muggle-Born Registration Commission. She finally had the power she needed to purify the world of true witches and wizards, to bring about a new age, where there was order, to banish the chaos of this rotten society.
But was it what she really wanted?
Next to her bloody and aching left hand was a paper box, filled with data about suspicious half-bloods and muggle-borns. On top of the box lay a book about the danger muggles represented, and a brossure saying how muggles could steal the magic of witches and wizards. Suddenly, she felt the urge to laugh histerically at the absurdity of it, but she only managed a loud and desperate sob.
Was it the order she wanted?
It certainly wasn't. She didn't want to be a monster. A murderer. But - as she told Potter more than a year ago - sometimes the ends do justify the means. If it gets back to her, if she's held responsible, she will not back down – she will be as she is now: proud to be the one who brings order to the chaos. Proud, but not necesserily happy.
But at least she will have order.
For the greater good.
Was it relief or despair she felt when she finally finished writing, Dolores couldn't decide. Perhaps misguidedness? She dropped her quill at the thought and waved her hand like she wanted to chase away an unpleasant insect. Still, the thought remained.
No matter how strong her resolve was, she still needed to be reminded sometimes.
But she will be loyal. Unfaltering. Bright and strong-willed amongst the wretched.
It was all for the greater good.
She almost cried at the thought.
With a wave of her short wand she got rid of the blood on her desk and hand, then leaned back in her chair and looked around the room again. With the blood gone, everything was in perfect order.
Only the chaos of her disjointed thoughts remained.
She was alone in the chaos with no one to protect her.
But it was all for the greater good.