Interlude: The Liberator's Eleventh Letter

June 5th, 1997

Dear Minister Scrimgeour:

It's done. It's done, and there will be only a few moments between the time when I cast this letter into the wind and the time when I can leave this place for good and ever.

Well. I suppose it might not be for good and ever. I'll probably still see my parents at times. But I won't live here again, and that—and having my freedom at last—is really all that I need to content me.

I suppose it would be a bit strange to say that I consider you a friend, wouldn't it? But I do. Even though you haven't been able to reply except for a few lines in public speeches and that one botched raid (which I am still embarrassed at myself for causing, by the way), I do feel that I know you. You've been someone who listened to me, and there are few times in my life when that's happened. I seem to have become trapped into a larger cycle of not only not doing what I want, but believing that I'll never be able to do so. You've broken that for me, and I thank you.

This is—

In a short while, I'll be at the Ministry. In a moment, I'll Apparate. This is the culmination of so many months of waiting that I can hardly believe this day is finally here. End of spring, beginning of summer. Oh, in so many ways!

I can't wait to look into your face, Minister, and be able to tell you what it means to me, that my long imprisonment is ended at last. Thank you for giving me a sense of purpose and courage in these last few months.

I fly!

Yours,

The Liberator.