Jul 10, 2005 21:11
Dear God, G-d, Allah, Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, Hare Krishna, Buddha, Lucifer, Vishnu, Osiris, Jupiter, Earth Goddess, Odin, and Zeus:
I am in your debt, for not only have you delivered Pansy unto me healthy and unharmed, but you have spared my father death, armlessness, and judgment at the hands of plebeian authorities who would not understand the meaning of "life's calling" even if it walked up and hexed them viciously in the back. Please see that father enjoys a full and productive life, even if he is now unemployed. I think it's best if you keep him and Mother apart for a while -- at least until Mother grows bored of bathing with her Turkish concubine.
Further, in a grand gesture that even I could not have anticipated, you have graciously decided to make the ink in these books wane and fade away, so that I shall never again be tempted to read the inane and imbecilic jawings of the thoroughly stupid humans who inhabit this earth and make my life a constant tedium. I still haven't forgiven you for infesting this earth with said idiots, by the way, but taking away their books goes a long way in softening me up on the matter.
Since you are omniscient and all knowing, you are already up to speed on my current goings on. What do you think of the name "The Isle of Drear Bonny Wee Boo Hags" for a quidditch team? I personally think it's a bit girly long, so if you could give me a sign as to how you feel about it, I'd gladly take your opinion into consideration. Further, if you could see to it that the games department approves my petition to have a fourteenth team added to the British League, I'd appreciate it, but if that's too much trouble I can always just establish my own league. Pansy and I are looking into getting the Isle recognised as an independent country so that we can declare ourselves its official royal rulers; considering this, creating my very own league may well be the best course of action in the long run. Try outs for the Isle of Drear Boo Hags will be held in two weeks, and I am hoping that you know better than to inspire any Chudley Cannon fans to come try their luck. I advise that you not disappoint me.
Since you are omniscient and all knowing, you also already know why I did what I did. I don't imagine anyone will ever be properly grateful for what I've done, either. Gryffindors don't understand how generously I've behaved, for they give credit only to swift, one-sided action and dull, "we shall overcome" speeches. They will never comprehend the strength it takes for me to do nothing. . . particularly when you've always been expected to do something. Great and/or terrible somethings, depending on who you ask.
And when the time comes, I fully intend to do those somethings.
Faithfully yours,
Draco C. Malfoy
The son of the Prince,
now the Prince at last.