I basically throw the letter at my owl. I pace my room for a while thinking about next steps. They’ve put me in an impossible position. This was just an elongated trip to Azkaban. The trauma tour, they’re going to force me to deal with this so once I’m locked away to rot I won’t be able to think about anything else. They don’t know that she was already all I thought about. Ever since that night in the drawing room. I haven’t stopped thinking about her, wondering how she’s doing, wondering how she’s coping, wondering how that thing on her arm is healing. Is it killing her? I don’t know the properties of the knife my aunt used. Maybe the knife is the reason shes like this. Like a curse. Wouldn’t the healers have been able to figure out if it was a cursed wound though? Did she even ever get to see a healer for it?