A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition, Year 2, Round 8.
House: Gryffindor
Year: 3
Category: Themed—Redemption (The road to redemption is long and hard)
Prompts: 6. [Colour] Purple. Prompts 2. [Prompt] Blessing in Disguise (since Marietta's curse prompted her to do more) and 8. [Word] sleeve both inspired this story as well, but were not used officially (just giving credit where credit is due).
Word count: 4974 words (written on Google docs)
Betas: A humongous thank you to my betas, Cel (CelestialRosegold), CK (Theoretical-Optimist), and Fruits (SecretFruits); your help is always appreciated, and even more so for this round when stress levels and time limits made for a very anxious round. Without your help, I honestly don't know if I would've gotten this in. Xx.
I've added some additional notes at the end (eg some possible diverging from canon), that may contain story spoilers. Thank you for reading! :D
SNEAK
Marietta shook her hands in a vain attempt to rid the cramping of her muscles. She thought she would've been used to it by now; she had been folding pamphlets for months. She realised, though, that she was no more used to it than she was seeing the hate the pamphlets were meant to spread.
Sighing, she picked up one of the unfolded pieces of parchment and studied the cover. It featured a picture of a man whose body represented that of a Venomous Tentacula. Each leafy tentacle grasped onto a different wizarding item, such as a wand and cauldron. His face was transformed into an evil grin, and every now and again, he would look up to the title, 'Mudbloods: What will they steal next?' and sneer. The only good thing about the pamphlet was that it didn't have the usual ghastly pink background that Umbridge preferred; this time, a lavender purple was the colour of choice.
It reminded her of the purple scars on her face; the boils from Hermione Granger's curse two years before had permanently etched the word 'SNEAK' across her forehead. She supposed she deserved it, though. She had thought she had been doing the right thing ratting out the DA, especially as she had thought a Ministry employee would never lie about something so serious as You-Know-Who's return.
Looking at the pamphlet and reading the line, 'stealing wands from true witches and wizards,' however, she knew that lies came easily to Umbridge and her colleagues.
"Get back to work."
Marietta jumped as the rough voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked up. One of the guards had his wand pointed at her small desk, no sign of kindness in his eyes. She quickly averted her gaze and resumed her work, knowing that underneath the man's fitted cloak sleeve was an image much more frightening than the one on the pamphlets.
Marietta sighed as she tried to hold the tube of toothpaste steady, her throbbing arm muscles making it difficult to do so. The day had been extra hard; apparently, not everyone had been creasing their pamphlets as crisply as Umbridge liked, and they had all been ordered to restart from scratch. She was relieved, though, that she hadn't been one of the colleagues who had been ordered to write 'I must fold correctly' with one of Umbridge's infamous blood quills.
"I'm telling you, it's not on the same frequency as the Wizarding Wireless Network. Dolores specifically said to turn the dial downwards, not up."
"That's what I'm doing, Arnold."
"Get out of the way, I'll do it."
With another sigh, Marietta gave up on trying to clean her teeth and placed her toothbrush back in its holder. After giving a quick glance in the mirror, only to turn away when she saw that, of course, the word 'SNEAK' was still across her forehead in large purple letters, she headed out of the bathroom to the source of the arguing voices.
Her parents were in the living room, stooped over her grandmother's old wireless. Her mother was twisting the little brass dial back and forth as her father leant over her, tapping at the box with his wand.
"That's not helping, Arnold," her mother snapped, swiping at his hand. "It must be the password; I'm sure Dolores gave us the wrong password!"
Her father huffed before shoving her mother out of the way. Marietta watched as she stumbled a little and fell to the carpet. A few strands of hair came loose from her bun, but as she stood up, she simply pushed them from her face and turned back to the radio. Once upon a time, her mother would've scolded the man for such an action; then again, once upon a time, he never would've pushed her.
"What's going on?" Marietta asked.
"Go back to bed; you need to be at work at seven tomorrow," her mother said, not looking at her.
Marietta resisted the urge to point out the dark circles underneath her mother's eyes, a reminder that she, too, needed her sleep. Instead, she turned to her father, who was now rapping his wand over the top of the radio repeatedly.
"Dad?"
"It's just work," he said. "Dammit! Why. Won't. This. Wretched. Thing. Wor—Aha! Yes!"
Her parents glanced at each other before they both fell to their knees in front of the wireless, their eyes wide. A male voice replaced the static, and with a start, Marietta realised that she had heard it somewhere before.
"Thank you, River. In case you are just tuning in, we welcome you to another episode of Potterwatch. I'm Royal, and I'd to spend a few moments remembering our fallen. Last night..."
"Quick, Jeanette, write this down! Do you recognise the voice? I'm not too sure, but I think it may be someone we work with. What do you think?"
"Shhh, I'm trying to see where the signal is coming from. If we miss this, who knows what Dolores will do? Or Corban? Maybe if we actually please them for once they'll leave us alone," her mother said.
"Now, with the grim news aside, we have some positive news. Our regular guest speaker has just informed us that Harry Potter has been in contact with a dear friend of ours. Romulus, would you like to tell us more?"
Marietta shook her head. She must have misheard; no one had heard from Harry Potter or his two sidekicks since the previous August. Although she knew he must still be alive as the Ministry continued to put up wanted posters, she had thought that he was being sheltered somewhere in a different country avoiding You-Know-Who. There was no way they were still around, planning something reckless. The radio host was simply spreading false hope, his information perhaps coming from someone who simply wanted their five minutes of fame.
She couldn't help but gasp, however, when the next voice came through. She was sure she had heard the voice before; in fact, she had spent her entire fourth year listening to the owner's lectures on Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Thank you, Royal. I believe that Harry and his friends are safe—"
"Marietta? I thought I told you to go."
She blinked as she realised her mother was glaring at her, the message of hope clearly not having found its way to her.
"What is this station? It doesn't sound like the Wizarding Wireless Network."
"I said go to bed. Now."
"But what if they're right? What if Harry Potter and his friends are planning to fight back? I don't think they'd lie—"
"They? Did you recognise who was speaking? Do you know who these people are?" Her father swivelled around, his eyes wide. "Who are they, Marietta?"
She shuffled on the spot. "Does it matter? I mean, Harry and his friends could win—"
"Does it matter? Does it matter? Of course it matters! Our jobs are on the line—among other things—if we don't find out who this is," her father said.
"If you know, you need to tell us," her mother added, the same look of desperation crossing her features.
"I—"
"Do the right thing, Marietta. Tell us."
Marietta glanced back and forth from her mother to her father. Her stomach churned as she took in their fragile frames and hollow cheeks, wondering when the last time they had eaten a proper meal was. It was probably the same time that they had been able to refrain from jumping whenever an owl soared past or a Muggle's car alarm went off. She barely recognised them, and that was only a result of them being in the Ministry's favour. What if they really did displease them? What else would the Ministry take away?
No, she knew what the Ministry would take away, and as she ran a hand through her curly hair, her fingers brushing over her boil scars, she knew what she had to do.
"I don't know who it is. I just thought it would have to be someone who knew something to risk exposing themselves like that," she said.
If she ratted out Professor Lupin and, if her suspicions were correct, that tall Ministry wizard who had taken her into Umbridge's office two years earlier, then there was a greater chance that everyone would lose something. Harry Potter was their only chance at this point, and she refused to give anything away about them or their helpers that would hinder their plans. Although it made her stomach knot up, she also knew that her parents would find another way to appease their bosses.
She hoped.
"Ugh! Useless girl," her father said, turning back to the radio.
She tried to appear calm as she met her mother's eyes again, praying she would not see through the lie. Her mother simply shook her head, though, her voice weary. "Go to bed, Marietta."
This time, she did as she was told, and quickly left the room. She squashed down the hurt that came with her parents' words as she headed back up the stairs, trying to replace it with the hope that something good would finally happen. Before she could let it completely consume her, however, she needed to confirm the illegal station was real.
"Psst, Cho… Cho… Over here!"
The dark-haired girl spun around, her mouth popping open. Marietta rolled her eyes and beckoned her friend over to her.
"Marietta? Why are you—"
"Shh. I only have ten minutes for lunch, and I'd prefer to get back before then," she said, suppressing a shiver. The last person who had been late from their break had been forced to do 'Dementor duty' in the lower floors of the Ministry; she didn't want to think about what that meant, let alone find out for herself. "I just need to ask you something."
Cho looked down at her shoes. "What is it, Marietta?"
Marietta sighed, not sure where to begin. In the last few months, their friendship had become strained. It wasn't so much because either one had done something to the other, but with their jobs at the Ministry turning out to be completely different from what they had expected, the time to just catch-up no longer existed.
Looking around to make sure no one was listening in, she leaned in towards the girl. "You still support Harry, right? I mean, despite what happened between you two?"
Cho's eyes darkened and she nodded. "Of course I still support—"
"Shhh! We're not alone," Marietta said, pointing at the wizards and witches darting about them. She had chosen to meet at the ghastly monument in the atrium given that they'd be less likely to be noticed, but there were still eyes and ears everywhere. "Look, I do too, okay? I'm only asking because I wondered if you might know…"
"Might know what?"
"If Potterwatch is real. Like, are they giving the correct information?"
"P-Potterwatch? I don't know—"
"Oh come on, Cho, I know you'd know. I've seen you around, jumping every time someone mentions the radio. You know something is going on," Marietta said.
She stared at Cho's face, watching as the girl's cheeks reddened. Cho continued to avoid her gaze, her eyes focused on her shoes. When she did finally look up, she could see her chocolate brown eyes were slightly watery.
"Oh, Marietta, I really did want to tell you, but..." her eyes glanced up at her forehead, and Marietta quickly tugged her fringe down over the purple scars, "it wasn't my secret to tell."
Marietta swallowed, her fears confirmed. Cho was the only person who seemed to have completely forgiven her for telling Umbridge about the DA, and who had remained her friend during their last years at Hogwarts. There had always been that niggling feeling at the back of her mind, however, that Cho was secretly ashamed of what she had done, even if she had said she understood why.
"It's okay," she said, plastering a smile on her face. "I get it. But look, I'm not asking because I want to tell anybody—I wouldn't, I promise. I want to help."
Cho gave a small smile in return but then shook her head. "I trust you, Marietta, I really do… but I still can't give anything away…"
"Please?"
"Alright, fine. I suppose I can tell you that there may be another show this week sometime. Do you still have your DA coin?"
Marietta shook her head. When she had gone to tell Umbridge about the meetings, she had planned on using the fake Galleon Hermione Granger had given them all as evidence. Unfortunately—or maybe, fortunately—the coin had disappeared before she could show it.
"Okay, well, that's fine. That Creevey boy from Gryffindor—you know, the camera guy?—well, he sends a few of us messages from time to time on it. Usually, they're just the dates for the next broadcast. I'll send you a message when the next show is, and the password is 'Fawkes.'"
"Thank you! There is no way my parents would give—"
"Your parents?" Cho narrowed her eyes. "What about your parents?"
This time, it was Marietta's turn to blush. She looked away from Cho, not quite sure how to explain what her parents' latest task was. Withholding information wasn't going to make the girl trust her, but as she turned instead to the clock on the atrium wall, she realised she would have to for a little while.
"Marietta?"
"I have to go; I'm sorry, my break is almost over," she said, her heart pounding.
She had about two minutes to get back to her work station, and even less time to make it to the elevators before they became full of other desperate workers wanting to save their necks. Turning on her heel, she sprinted towards the nearest elevator, Cho close behind her.
"Marietta?" she called.
As the gates slammed shut, Marietta turned back to her. "Don't worry, I swear I will not tell them anything. My lips are sealed."
She couldn't tell if there was anger, hurt, or disappointment behind Cho's eyes, and could only pray that nothing more happened to validate that response.
"Come on… come on…"
Marietta twisted the radio dial back and forth, her tongue protruding from her thin lips. She only had a few minutes before her mother came home and she didn't want to be caught fiddling with the wireless.
"Golden Snitch! Ugh, come on, stupid thing! You worked last time… Golden Snitch!"
Despite rapping her wand on the radio, only static burst through the speakers. Part of her wondered if perhaps Cho had given her the wrong password, or had told the Creevey boy that she couldn't be trusted and had tried to get the station reporters to change the password.
She realised she wouldn't find out, either, as the sound of the front door opening echoed throughout the room.
"Marietta?"
Marietta jumped and turned off the wireless. She tossed a sheet over the radio and stood up just as her mother walked through the living room door.
"There you are. Dolores sent these home with me, strongly encouraging you to fold a few extras for a special reward." Her mother sat a pile of freshly-printed pamphlets on the side table. "Make sure you get it done quickly. This may be a good opportunity for you."
She didn't bother touching the extra work and instead gave her mother a small smile. "How was work today?"
Her mother sighed, running a hand through her strawberry-blonde hair. "Busy. I'm going to grab a quick shower. You have a guest at the door, but make sure those pamphlets get done."
"Yes, Mum."
Marietta waited until her mother headed upstairs before running into the hallway. Her guest also seemed to be waiting, for she didn't round on her until the sound of the shower running could be heard.
"How could you, Marietta? I trusted you!" Cho said, placing her hands on her hips.
"Do what? I haven't done anythi—"
Cho chuckled, but there was no humour in it. "Why didn't you tell me that your parents were trying to find out who was running the station? Was that why you wanted to know? So you could tell them and rise up in your job?"
"Cho, I didn't tell—"
"Well, thanks to you, they found them! I'm not sure what went on exactly, but Kingsley Shacklebolt's house was raided the other day, trying to find evidence about a radio station. They can't put out news anymore because it's not safe. You made it unsafe," Cho said. There were tears streaming down her eyes now, but as Marietta stepped forward to wipe them away, Cho slapped her hand. "Don't touch me."
"Cho, please… I swear to you that I never told my parents anything. I wanted to tell you about their task, but you know what the Ministry is like…"
"Yeah, just another chance for you to gain a promotion—just like you've always wanted. Well, I hope being a sneak was worth it," she said, glaring at her forehead.
Marietta opened her mouth before closing it, not quite sure what to say. Cho was the only person to have never commented on her boils, save for the times she ranted about Hermione Granger being horrible to have jinxed her. She knew how embarrassed she was about it.
Cho must have been thinking the same, for her eyes widened. "Oh, Marietta, I didn't mean…" She then sniffed and crossed her arms. "You shouldn't have told."
"I didn't, I swear. I'd never tell my parents something like that, not this time. I'm on your side, Cho; I want Harry to win."
Her friend sniffled again, and the smallest trace of doubt crossed her face.
Marietta took the opportunity to convince her and nodded towards the living room. "Look, come and see what my job is like, and then tell me if you think I'd ever betray you for it."
She walked into the room, picking up the pamphlets on the small table. Thankfully, curiosity had gotten the better of Cho, and the girl had followed her into the room.
"Look at this," Marietta said, holding one of them out.
She watched as Cho took the parchment and scanned the content. Her brown eyes grew wider as she read the pamphlet, her cheeks turning crimson.
When she looked up, her eyes were fiery. "This is horrible! I mean, I've seen some of these around, but nothing like this," she said.
Marietta nodded. "You haven't seen half of it."
Cho tossed the pamphlet onto the table and dusted her hands together as if to get rid of the germs from it.
"Tell me, honestly, why I would willingly send those out or encourage it, even if I didn't support Harry," Marietta said, locking eyes with her friend. "I wanted the radio station to work to save people from getting the wrong information."
Cho's cheeks were still red, but this time, she didn't seem angry. "You're right; I'm sorry," she said.
Marietta sighed. "Don't worry about it. The chances are my parents did have a part in the raid in some way. I just wish they hadn't, because now this rubbish is the only thing people will see, apart from The Prophet, which probably has no truth to it."
"Even that weird magazine Luna Lovegood's father writes seems to have changed its tune," Cho said, glaring at the pamphlets. "It's a pity these didn't have a better message."
"Yeah… Actually, maybe they can…"
"What? How?"
Marietta grinned at Cho. Her heart rate quickened as her mind ran over the idea Cho's words had sparked. It was both brilliant and stupid at the same time, but if she could pull it off, then perhaps she could make everything better.
"Do you want to find out how sneaky I can really be?" she asked, winking.
Glancing at the guard to make sure he was still focused elsewhere, Marietta took out her wand and tapped the pile of pamphlets in front of her. They glowed a faint purple before returning to their normal pink colour, but it was enough for her to see that her message had successfully been transferred to the parchment. All the recipients had to do now was tap their wand and mutter, "thunderbolt," and they would receive the news that Potterwatch was currently unable to provide.
Stowing her wand back into her pocket, Marietta picked up one of the pamphlets and resumed folding it. She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face as she realised that her plan was working.
"Back to work! You there; you're wanted in the office."
Marietta increased her pace, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Casting the spell had only taken a second, but Umbridge expected them to fold over two hundred pamphlets a minute, and each second counted.
"I said, you're wanted in the office." When a fist collided with her desk, Marietta jumped. Looking up, she saw the tall guard sneering at her. "Now."
"Me? O-okay," she said, swallowing.
Her legs turned to jelly, making it difficult to stand up. She didn't dare pause, though, or ask why she was being summoned. She had a feeling she already knew why, and her heart thrummed against her chest.
It wasn't any easier knocking on the door with her hand trembling, but she tried to appear nonchalant.
"Come in," a voice called, and before she could push the door, it swung open.
Marietta stumbled into the room. She had been fortunate enough to have never been required to enter Umbridge's Ministry office before, but as she peered around, she wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was decorated like her former Hogwarts office. Meowing cat plates hung along the pink walls, and frilly doilies covered each piece of furniture. It made her stomach churn, and she struggled to keep the contents of it inside her.
What she was surprised to see was that it was not Umbridge sitting at her desk, but one of her superiors. Her stomach churned again as Corban Yaxley's cold eyes bored into her own, and he gestured to a chair in front of the desk.
"Take a seat, Miss Edgecombe."
Marietta nodded and sat down. The man didn't say anything, however, and continued staring at her.
"I, erm, I hope I've been keeping up with demand…" she said, shifting on the seat. She wasn't sure what to do with her now clammy hands, and after twisting them about, she folded them in her lap.
The man raised a thick, blond eyebrow. "You seemed to be confident enough with that fact."
"P-pardon?"
"Well, I simply couldn't figure out why an employee would think they had time to tamper with pamphlets, unless they thought they were doing an excellent job."
Marietta gulped. Her heart was now frantically trying to push its way from her chest, and when she tried to reply, her voice came out as no more than a whisper.
"I-I don't know wh-what you mean?"
Rolling up his sleeves to reveal the large tattoo on his left forearm, he tsked and said, "You looked like an honest girl, but I guess I was wrong. Care to tell me why there is a sudden demand for pamphlets from people who openly support Harry Potter? Or why, after an illegal radio station was shut down, people still seem to think that boy will stop the Dark Lord?"
Marietta shook her head, not trusting herself to say anything more than, "N-no."
"I see…"
When the man then scraped back his chair and stood, she was sure it was all over. Her hand itched to pull out her wand, but she found she was frozen in place with fear. All she could do was close her eyes and pray that whatever he had in store wasn't too painful.
"See this? This allows us to know everything that goes on in that room. You seem to have taken your wand out a lot this week."
Opening her eyes, Marietta saw that Yaxley was holding an electric-blue eyeball. He tossed it up and down in his hand, and as she focused on it, she thought she really was going to be sick. The eye looked exactly like the one Professor Moody had worn, and she watched as he then placed it back in a hole in the door.
Marietta cringed. She had thought she had been so careful to avoid the gaze of the guards in the room; she hadn't even paid attention to the eye. The eye had been there within the first month she had started the job, and whilst they had been told it was there to keep watch, she had believed she knew better. In her fifth year, she had been curious enough to see how Moody's eye had worked after Cormac McLaggen had been caught chewing gum. Her research had concluded that it was only the wearer who could use it to see through objects, but perhaps, like so many things, she had been wrong.
"So, care to explain why you needed so many breaks?" Yaxley said, strolling back over to the desk.
She suppressed a shiver as he passed by her. "I-I just found a lot of-of—I wanted to make sure there were no m-mistakes in the pamphlets."
"Oh? You don't think the publisher knows how to spell?"
"N-No, it's not that; they did a very good job. I just—I just wanted to make sure the po-population are getting the right message," she said.
"The right message? And what would that be?"
The man's cold gaze was unwavering. It was as though he was trying to draw the truth from her, and if she hadn't run a hand through her hair, her fingers once again brushing her forehead, she might have given it up.
"M-Mud—ahem, Mudbloods." The word tasted foul on her tongue, but she didn't look away.
The man tilted his head. "What about them? Were you not once a part of a Mudblood's little group a few years ago? One that supported Albus Dumbledore?"
"Yes…"
"And did it not take you several months to come to Dolores Umbridge, despite the urging of your parents, to let her know of such illicit activities? I do believe that when you did, you were unable to provide all the facts at that. Perhaps you believe you need to cover for them again?"
"I—I don't—"
Her mind was reeling. Had he known all along? Was that why she had been accepted into the Ministry, so they could keep an eye on her?
No, they couldn't know. If they had, she would have been hauled away the moment she had stepped foot into the Ministry.
Trying to keep her voice steady, she straightened her back and locked eyes on his. "I wouldn't help anyone who did this to me," she said, pointing to her forehead. "Do you know how ugly these purple marks are? Do you know how humiliating it is to walk around with something that makeup can't cover? Herm—that Mudblood did this to me. Why would I ever help her or her friends?"
She held her breath as Yaxley surveyed her. She tried to gain a sense of whether or not he believed her, but his expression gave nothing away.
"I see—What is that racket?"
Marietta jumped as several small explosions sounded from behind the door. She could hear a few voices yelling, and it was enough to make Yaxley run to the door.
"I'll expect you to answer more questions later," he said before entering the chaos.
Marietta remained in the chair. She wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it had saved her—for now. No sigh of relief came, however, as she knew that she'd have to tell Cho that her little plan had failed after all.
Marietta swallowed when she spotted Cho across the atrium. People were running back and forth, shouting instructions to each other, but she had no time to pay attention to them.
"I'm sorry; I really did want to help. I promise I didn't say anything—" she began when she finally made it to her friend.
She was cut off, however, by Cho wrapping her arms around her in a hug. "Thank Merlin you're okay! I heard there was a commotion in your area, and someone said you might've been called into Umbridge's office for questioning. Oh, but when I heard that Harry and his friends had escaped, I knew it would be alright!"
Marietta gave her a squeeze before pulling back. "Harry was here? Why? How?"
Cho nodded. "Yes, yes, they stunned Umbridge and—didn't you know?"
She shook her head. "No, but they did ask me about the pamphlets. I didn't tell them, but I don't think it's safe to keep trying. I'm sorry, Cho; I really did try to fix things."
To her relief, the girl simply sighed and nodded. "It was too risky anyway. You did your best."
Marietta's shoulders dropped. "I don't think I did enough."
More shouts echoed around the atrium, and people were shoved about. Cho let out a gasp.
She glanced behind her but didn't see anything too worrisome. "Cho? What is it?"
Cho pointed to her forehead, and a small smile lit up her face. "Your scars, they're… they're gone."
Marietta's hands flew to the area, feeling around for the bumps, but her fingers only met smooth skin. "Completely?"
Cho nodded. "It seems like someone thinks you're not a sneak after all."
Still feeling her forehead, Marietta grinned at the possibility that the purple marks were finally gone—or better yet, that she had finally made up for what she had done years ago.
"And just when I was quite enjoying being a sneak," Marietta said, returning Cho's grin.
Additional A/N: Whilst I tried to make it fit into canon as much as possible, it does diverge in some facts, especially as we don't know what Marietta did post-1996 or if everyone was raided. This story does take place around the time the Ministry was raided by Harry et co, and, at the risk of spoilers, Potterwatch does resume as we know it post-Ministry raid (it simply... takes a break... before they find new headquarters if you know what I mean—you'll see ;)). I also know that Harry was coded as 'Lightning', but again, this takes place before they upped their security further.
I'd like to think Marietta was sorry for her actions (no matter how much I hated her in the books), especially as she couldn't meet Harry's eyes in the 6th book when on the train. Although Cho may have been biased, she could've told the truth that Marietta was a kind person after all. Whilst pimples/ boils are usually red, I do know scars can go a purple colour on many skin tones, including the light tone Marietta was described as having. It is assumed that her scars never actually faded, but again, I played around with this because I do think that was kind of mean... and all credit to CK for suggesting they faded :)
Finally, the pamphlet described in the very first scene is based on 1901 Australian 'White Australia Policy' racist propaganda, mostly aimed against Chinese immigrants. This particular advertisement/ poster showed a caricature with an octopus body, holding items like opium.In using it, I am trying to show that the 'anti-Mudblood' campaign was very much like the racism that occurred; it is in no way intended to 'advertise' or 'support' that poster or its racist themes. Please excuse my horrible attempt at drawing the pamphlet for the story cover :')