Arthur:
I wake to my three best friends surrounding me. Jack, Jim, and Ogden stare me in the face as I lift my head from the puddle of sticky bile on my desk. The filth of my environment is at its peak, since the mess somehow managed to stay within my work area. My friends, are such great friends, because they do this to me, no, for me. They aren't selfish like my family, or the Order. Jim, Ogden, and Jack actually do something about something. They don't just sit around when things aren't right; they are always around when they are needed most.
Too bad I'll have to replace them. Dispose of them when their purpose is served. Forget them and throw them away when my own selfish needs are met. I am no better than Voldemort. None of us are. Except Black.