Well.
Today's issue of the Free Spirit will be lining the cats' litter box when I get home this evening, that's certain. (Who on earth set a copy on my desk, anyway?)
Honestly, who are their political sources ("Oliver?"), and since when have I been pushing things to the forefront of the political agenda? And why shouldn't we use Death Eater's weapons against them? This is not a game of Exploding Snap we're playing. We're not even playing at all!
And, of course, they dragged my husband's memory into this. Why shouldn't I be upset that I lost him, though, and why shouldn't I want to prevent other people from losing their loved ones? And I have a first name. Arabella. They call me "Mrs. Figg" like I'm just some dotty, old lady with too many cats. That I may be, but I'm not senile.
And poor
Barty, being singled out by them, too. Why shouldn't he want to want to "place himself so much against the Pureblood Supremacists that riddle the Death Eaters?"
Well, I ought to go down to the Ministry cafeteria for something to eat before it gets too late. And I had better not find an issue of that rag on my desk ever again.