She wished that she wasn't filled with the blackness that permeated every cell of her body. When she was younger, still the idealistic, naïve child who had no doubts that the Light would win the war, she was able to summon up the purest of magic to cast a patronus. A happy, carefree otter, if she remembered correctly. So many years had passed since she last saw it. The loss of all hope when Harry died initially robbed her of the required happiness to cast the tricky charm. And then when she became a Death Eater, pledged her life to the service of the Dark Lord, she might have felt joy, but she still wasn't able to cast the silvery otter. None of the Death Eaters, to her knowledge, were capable. Maybe one or two of the ones that hadn't allowed the Darkness to consume them. She wasn't certain. All she knew was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do it herself. In the safety of her kitchen, she tried again. If she could somehow get a message to Antonin... it was useless. Not even silvery mist came out of the end of her wand when she tried.