Gideon Prewett

[Warded to the Order]

Diggle: Victory. Not only do I have a large portion of the WCC background research on the original creation of the journals as requested, but I also managed to lift a copy of the WCC onboarding handbook. It's got some pretty detailed instructions for new employees that I suspect could be a help. Do you want me to drop it off with you, or take it to Alice, or take it to James, or start on it myself, or what?

[Warded to Fabian, Alice, Benjy, Edgar, Dorcas, Sturgis & Emmeline]
I'm worried about Miriam.

Even without the Order as a consideration, the way I mouth off makes her a target. Just being with me at all makes her a target - more of one than a lot of other Muggleborn witches.

And at this point, we're closing in on two years together. If we were living in any other world, I'd be asking her to marry me soon. But we're not in any other world. We're in this one. Which means that if I did ask her to marry me, it would just be putting an even larger target on her back.

I love Miriam. I don't want her to be hurt. I don't want anyone deciding to go after her to get at me. If we do have a leak in the Order, I don't want anyone going after her to get at the rest of us. She's a wonderful, amazing person, but she's not cut out for standing up under torture or threats to her life.

What I'm saying is, I don't know what to do. To keep up the stronger security measures, and keep up getting the new journals together, and keep fighting, I'd eventually have to tell her the truth. I'm not sure I should. I'm not sure I should even be with her at all, given the danger involved.

I need cooler heads to prevail. What's the right choice here? End it now, and make sure she stays safe, or tell her the truth and run the risk?
[end ward]

Or you know what else we could do, Death Eater Wireless?

We can keep fighting back until you're all in prison, where you belong.

You may be hidden in all corners of society, but you are not the wizarding world. The rest of us are. You're a tiny minority that turned to violence because your words and your rubbish opinions were too easy for the wizarding world to ignore. You hide in the shadows because you're cowards.

You've scared a lot of people into silence, but you can't manage it with all of us. We're too many. No matter how many of us you wound and kill, there will always be others to take up the fight.

You will be stopped. You will not win. You're trying to stop the world from turning, and you simply do not have that kind of power. No one does. Give up on this business before you get yourselves killed.

[Order]
The Malfoys are not doing a damned thing interesting tonight. They are eating quite the dinner, but there doesn't appear to be anything sinister going on.

The peacocks are more active than last night, though. I've taken to calling the obviously gay one Sturgis.

[Warded to Miriam]
Hello there, love - what's your work schedule like this week?
[end ward]

I woke up with "Thomas the Rhymer" stuck in my head this morning. I don't know where it came from; haven't thought about that song in years. My grandmother used to sing it when I was a boy. It's probably that I feel like I could use a 7 year holiday in Elf-land right now.

So now I'm thinking of all those old songs, the ballads that get passed down for centuries. Captain Wedderburn, Edward, The Two Wizards' Courtship, The Raggle-Taggle Gypsies...I'll likely be singing for the rest of the day.

It's gotten me to thinking, too, about all the really good parts of wizarding heritage. The grand old history, the stories and songs, the heroes, the recipes, the battles fought for justice, and all those stories of Arthur and Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table. Those were my childhood, and I loved them all.

It makes me really bloody angry that there are people who think the best way to preserve that heritage is to lock it away and lock themselves away from everything else. It makes me angry, too, that some people keep desperately trying to tie so much hate into that heritage. That's not what it's supposed to be about. We're supposed to learn from the past, not desperately try to bring it back.

[Warded to Miriam Strout]

As soon as possible, tell me you are okay. Please.

[end ward]


[Warded to the Order]

Yes, I heard the broadcast. Did the rest of you? And is everyone okay?

[end ward]

Am I the only person in the entire bloody world who likes Valentine's Day?

I mean, really. I've seen nothing but complaints on these pages for the past several days. "It's a manufactured holiday" and "you should tell people you love them every day!" and "I hate pink! I hate hearts! I hate lace! I hate chocolate!"

There is quite enough hate in the world. Just take a day to celebrate love, however you find it. Tell your best mate how much her friendship means to you. Tell your family how much you care. Take some time with your wife or girlfriend and tell her how much you appreciate all that stuff that she maybe thinks you take for granted. Pet your cat. Give your dog a treat. Buy your favourite candy to reward yourself for all the stuff you did this week that you didn't feel like doing.

Just for one day, go easy on yourself and all the other people around you. There are worse things to dedicate a day to than love.

I learned a new word today: saudade.

It's Portugese. It means, according to my Brazilian colleague, a feeling of quiet, constant longing for something or someone that doesn't exist. It can mean longing for a fantasy, or for someone you've lost. Quite packed with meaning, that little word. It struck me as a very handy word, and also makes me wonder if we have any words in English that require a lot of words to explain in another language.

[Warded to the Order]

Okay, so we've done one round of setting up better wards for people. Let's make another list of people who need it. Ideas?

[end ward]

[Warded to Miriam]
Hello, my lovely - I am ashamed to say I can't remember which schedule you're on this week, so I'm put in the position of having to ask if you're free this evening. My new housemate is going to be playing Sinatra and such in a Muggle lounge tonight, which ought to be good and safe because it's a random location, and it's been much too long since I got to dance with you. Interested?
[end ward]

There's been a lot of talk about cooking and men on this journal business lately, and I feel compelled to stand up and say: People with sons, teach your boys to cook.

Because seriously, it's not our fault that we get conditioned to think that cooking is girly or poncey and whatnot. We've got the whole world and our families sort of sideways-telling-us that our whole lives. So then we find ourselves out on our own, and more and more of us not getting married straight out of Hogwarts, and we find ourselves sitting there staring at a stovetop wondering what the devil all that is.

So then we start living on takeaway, and for a little while, that's fun. You go all "Woooooo! I'm an adult! I can eat whatever I want! No one can stop me! I will live exclusively on pizza (which I ALONE will choose toppings for!) or I'll order 15 EGG ROLLS just to see how many I can eat, and then I'll eat fish 'n chips for lunch FOUR DAYS IN A ROW because I DARE YOU TO STOP ME! BAM! ADULT!"

But that loses its charm. You go broke so very fast, and then you realize that your body just doesn't destroy fat the way it used to when you were 17. And then you find yourself just actually wanting real food. You start to come up with creative excuses to show up at your sister's house because all you want in the world is an actual fucking vegetable. Because seriously, do you know how hard it is, as a man, to say "Hello, world, I would like to learn the wand-wavings that turn groceries into dinner"? People go "Oooooooh, are we trying to impress the ladies?" or "NO, I'M NOT GOING TO SHAG YOU" or "How does a grown adult not know how to boil water and put pasta in it? Are you perhaps mentally damaged?" or "Gaaaaaaaay." And then you have to hang your head in shame and hope someone will take pity on you and invite you to dinner sometime soon.

So what I'm saying is, people, teach your kids to cook. All your kids. Not just the girl ones. You cannot guarantee that the instant your son leaves your house there will be a lady just dying to make him dinner, and just because you have a house elf doesn't mean he will. It's an important skill, people. Everyone should be able to feed themselves. At least give us a fighting chance by not telling us that cooking is for girls.

[Warded to Tom]
Hey, mate. I made waffles. And sausage. And eggs. I'm not a brilliant cook, but I'm pretty good with breakfast. Come down and eat something if you want. There's plenty of it.
[end ward]

I bought boysenberry syrup. It's amazing. It's better even than chocolate chips and a fine dusting of powdered sugar. Not quite a match for strawberries and whipped cream, though.

[Warded to Tom MacDougal]
Hey, mate - I just finished up the wards on the house. Let me know when you'll be coming in so I can show you how to unlock them from either side.
[end ward]

[Warded to Miriam]
Please tell me you're not walking anywhere alone, ever.
[end ward]

If you have to terrify people to make your point, you don't have much of a point.

[Warded to Prewetts and Weasleys]
Thank you all very much for your help in the big move! You are all amazing and brilliant and I love you.

And now I'm going to pass out and not move until sometime around noon tomorrow. Molly, Arthur, since obviously I owe you, I'll plan to come over and play in the snow with the boys so you can have a break in the afternoon.
[end ward]

I just unearthed my comic book collection from school, including at least 6 uninterrupted years worth of Marvin the Mad Muggle, The Sorcerer King, and Magicians of Mars. Obviously, today has now become a great day.

[Warded to Prewetts/Weasleys]
Decided it was time for a change of address. The flat's been too much rent since Edwin moved out, and too many people know the address and how to get in anyway. The new place is a converted church, absolutely gorgeous. Free-standing, so it will be much easier to ward completely than a flat, too.

My roommate is one Mr. Tom MacDougal, an American who is easily the best-dressed wizard I've ever met. He's a bit quiet, works as a sometimes-barman/sometimes-pianist, and is fine with the idea of pretty tight security.

I'll be moving in Saturday afternoon. Once I get settled, I'll give you the new contact information.
[end ward]

[Warded to Miriam]
You, my love, are going to be green with envy when you see my new place. I found an absolutely amazing deal sharing expenses in a converted church with a quiet American fellow who plays piano and is an occasional barman. The place is beautiful, my bedroom is hilariously floral, and everything's all arched doorways and vaulted ceilings. I make the move this weekend, and I fully intend to kidnap you and take you on the grand tour as soon afterward as you have a day off.
[end ward]

[Warded to the Order]
I'll be making a change of address this weekend. New Floo call address will be The Parish House, and I'll paste in a picture for apparating purposes sometime on Sunday.

Part of the purpose in picking up a new address is to keep this one quiet. If you all could keep this information to yourselves, I'd appreciate it. Miriam, Molly, and Arthur will know, but other than that I'm intending to keep it strictly Order.
[end ward]

[Warded to the Order of the Phoenix]
So, Aurors and Hitwizards...I'm going to take a wild guess and say that none of you heard anything about this before all the rest of us did?
[end ward]


Every New Year, I once again forget that champagne will always give me a headache. Never mind how little I have. There is something in those little bubbles that loathes me on a really personal level. Other than that, though, the New Year seems to be getting off to quite a good start.


[Warded to Miriam]
We've got Paul Newman opening in a crime drama this afternoon. Fort Apache, The Bronx. Think we can sneak around your schedule to go see it sometime this week?
[end ward]

( Application for GIDEON PREWETT )