It has been so long since I have seen my Master. Of course, I saw him in my dreams every night, but that is hardly the same. I wondered, once, where my husband was, but since that vague reminisce, I have thought no more about him. All that matters is my Master.
He is strong again, and it is so pleasant to see him restored. We are all staying together in The Den. Lazarus has been waiting for our return for many, many years. He has kept the place up and open and hidden from spying eyes. And now, we are back. Once our meeting place, now our home. For of course, I can not go back to the Wizarding World, nor would I want to. My loyalties and my heart belong at The Den. At home, with my Master.
I can still see the scab on my side from his long fingernails. From when he snatched me up and Apparated the both of us to The Den. I am pleased with the mark he left, and I am cultivating it, I hope it will be a most wonderous scar. Yet another mark upon my to show others how unfailingly loyal I am to my dear Master.
It is near dinnertime, for those of us that still remain. Of course, our Master will not attend, as he has no need for such foolish, mortal things as nourishment. My Master can survive on naught but the teeming hatred of humanity, which comes in such quantities and makes humans, muggles and wizards alike, so delightfully stupid. My Master is the most powerful being on Earth, and it is shameful and a sin that some should disagree with him. As if their tiny minds can comprehend his ultimate plan of peace, and the elimination of muggles.
Would that I could be more than just a menial servant to him, not just his most loyal minion. Not to be equal with him, oh no! There could never be such a thing. I am far too stupid and useless to ever dream of accomplishing what he has. But perhaps to be closer to him, to be the one that fetches to him people he wishes to see. To be the one to attend him in his bedroom when he wishes for comfort. Perhaps to act as wife and servant to my most glorious Master.
That is my wish, and let none but this paper hear it.
He is strong again, and it is so pleasant to see him restored. We are all staying together in The Den. Lazarus has been waiting for our return for many, many years. He has kept the place up and open and hidden from spying eyes. And now, we are back. Once our meeting place, now our home. For of course, I can not go back to the Wizarding World, nor would I want to. My loyalties and my heart belong at The Den. At home, with my Master.
I can still see the scab on my side from his long fingernails. From when he snatched me up and Apparated the both of us to The Den. I am pleased with the mark he left, and I am cultivating it, I hope it will be a most wonderous scar. Yet another mark upon my to show others how unfailingly loyal I am to my dear Master.
It is near dinnertime, for those of us that still remain. Of course, our Master will not attend, as he has no need for such foolish, mortal things as nourishment. My Master can survive on naught but the teeming hatred of humanity, which comes in such quantities and makes humans, muggles and wizards alike, so delightfully stupid. My Master is the most powerful being on Earth, and it is shameful and a sin that some should disagree with him. As if their tiny minds can comprehend his ultimate plan of peace, and the elimination of muggles.
Would that I could be more than just a menial servant to him, not just his most loyal minion. Not to be equal with him, oh no! There could never be such a thing. I am far too stupid and useless to ever dream of accomplishing what he has. But perhaps to be closer to him, to be the one that fetches to him people he wishes to see. To be the one to attend him in his bedroom when he wishes for comfort. Perhaps to act as wife and servant to my most glorious Master.
That is my wish, and let none but this paper hear it.