Private Message to Campanella Wright

I shouldn't be writing this, I know it, but I can't think what to do, and I'm really afraid I'm going to ruin my role.

I just feel ill. My heart is literally racing. I'm sorry if my writing's difficult.

Only, he's married. Naufragous Green. And his wife expects-

I've tried saying I'm feeling ill, but you know it's been since Saturday, and I guess they're accustomed to have relations several times a week.

She just touches me. Well, touches him, but it's me. And I/he

I can't even talk about it.

I know I'm being an idiot.

I know this is my job. It's only a job.

But it makes me dizzy it's so unpleasant. I mean, all of it is awful. He is. I mean his arms and hands and feet and all of him.

My pseuds were women before, and it wasn't like this. I didn't mind it.

And those people didn't have families. Wives.

I don't know how Mr Crouch did it. And, no, obviously I can't ask him. I know you won't tell him.

You won't right? I mean, I'm not in danger. Really. I'm not asking to be extracted. Not at all.

Only, how did he manage having a wife who wasn't- who was someone he didn't even know, but who expected to be intimate?

Actually. I guess I do know how. But she was such a wreck between the memory charms and Imperius, it just seems too awful.

Really, you won't tell anyone I'm going to pieces about this, will you?

I've got to go back to the table now. I told her we ought to go down the local tonight and listen to the Quidditch on the wireless there. At least there's a crowd.

Can you think of anything I could do that might help? I'll check back here as soon as I can.