You will hate me. I know this because part of me hates this too. I hate that I will let you down, but if I don’t then I will hate myself for carrying on with my life pretending I agree with all the things that make us who we are. A purist family.

I’m not a purist. I don’t believe I’m an entitled person because I was born to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I don’t believe that being born to muggles is a crime. Just like our wands choose us, so does magic. Can we truly go on pretending we are a higher race because of our background in the wizarding community? Must I carry on the legacy of the great importance of blood purity?... I don’t think so.

I wish it would be easier to disagree. I wish you would understand me without judging me or erasing me from our family history. I wish I could say that you wouldn’t do to me what aunt Walburga and uncle Orion did to Sirius. I wish I could say that Bella and Narcissa will continue to accept me... but I don’t think it will be that way. And it hurts, it hurts more than I can put into words here. It hurts more than you will ever understand. I wish you’d understand.

I don’t plan on staying living under false pretenses for much longer, nor do I plan to follow through whatever betrothal plans you may have for me. I no longer wish to live as a pure blood puppet. From now one I will be me, no matter the consequences.

Yours truly and no longer tujours pur,