journal entry: Friday, 18 August, 1978
18 Aug. 1978
One of my Rosier cousins, Evan, is to have a birthday party, to which I have naturally been invited, and naturally I have accepted the invitation. It's to be thrown by his inamorata Cheyenne Mittle. I barely remember the girl from school, but I have seen her at a few social functions. Her deportment is not what it could be, but then, her upbringing has not been what it could be, from what little I hear; her father is a tippler; and the poor girl tries. More than that, she makes Evan happy, by all accounts. That matters very much. Happiness means more to me now than it used to mean, I think. Have I grown soft? (Bella would say I had always been. Mollycoddled, pampered Cissy.)
How can I help but see the world through rose-colored glasses, these days? By this time next year, I will be married to the man I love, who understands me better than anyone in this world has ever bothered to try, and our future is to be the brightest of futures. Lucius' work will make the world a better place. It will be a cleaner world, where we need worry about nothing, where we may raise our children with no need to hide their talents from their inferiors. It will be a beautiful world. I can only admire Lucius the more for his fortitude - and for his ability to hold his nose and do what must be done.
I do not ask questions about these things. If it eases him to tell me, I will listen, with utmost sympathy - how could I not? Yet I think he is happier to keep me from having to hear such things. I know he prefers me not to be involved in any of it, and in this we're of one mind, as we are in so many things. My role is not to fight, but to give him something worth fighting for - to remind him, by being who I am, why he must fight. And when the Dark Lord's work is done, my role will be to help create that perfect pristine new world, as lady of Malfoy Manor. We shall be, as ever, pillars of wizarding society, only a far more prominent wizarding society, no longer scraping and bowing to the Ministry's stupid dictum of secrecy.
It is a beautiful time, and I am so happy to be alive to see it.