James Bradfield (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bradders) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} castagain,@ 2008-01-13 19:14:00 |
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Who: James and Tucker
What: Who knows. Probably talking.
When: January 13th, evening.
Where: Dungeon Five
Rating: PG-13ish
Status: Incomplete
James shut his journal and slowly pushed himself out of bed and onto his feet. He was so tired. He swayed for a second before catching his balance again, his left foot well asleep from having not moved much in the last four or five hours. His Herbology essay lay on his Potions book, half finished. Professor Longbottom wanted eight feet on garden gnomes by tomorrow morning. Next to that was his stack of Muggle Studies that he was also nearly finished with. He had another six feet due for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but not until Tuesday. Thank God. This was all on top of his regular homework of course, and finding time to do it between classes and the numerous detentions he seemed to have acquired over the week was almost impossible. Consequently, sleep had become a rare activity and eating even moreso.
He was pretty scruffy, hair mussed and sticking up in odd places. He felt like he'd lost weight, which perhaps wasn't so surprising considering the lack of nourishment in his diet as of late. All his energy was gone as well, and simple things like walking to class left him feeling totally exhausted, especially when he had to go from the dungeons to the fourth floor library. A week ago he would have laughed at the thought of five flights of stairs tiring him out, but it did. And it'd only been a week since they'd gotten back to class. James had an itching feeling that Neville Longbottom would not abandon Operation: Kill Bradfield any time soon. Fuck.
But now, he had to see Tucker. He hadn't seen her in four days. When was the last time they'd that long without at least writing? Had to have been when they were ten or so.... oh right. That's right. Never. James toed his trainers on and glanced in the mirror to make sure he didn't look horrible. He sort of did. Impatiently, he attempted to fix his hair. With no real progress, he went to the bathroom and splashed a good amount of cold water on his face. He had to wake up. Really. This was ridiculous, he was stronger than this... Right?
Walking slowly and carefully, as to keep his balance, James made his way out of the dormitory and common room. He probably wasn't even noticed. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with those water dragons that had appeared earlier in the week. They were interesting, he had to admit. But he was too preoccupied with other things to be more than faintly interested.
Dungeon five wasn't too far away, thankfully, and when he got there, he was still alone. So he stretched out on one of the long tables, resting his head on his arms. Now he just had to keep himself awake until Tucker got here. That at least he could do. Hopefully.
What: Who knows. Probably talking.
When: January 13th, evening.
Where: Dungeon Five
Rating: PG-13ish
Status: Incomplete
James shut his journal and slowly pushed himself out of bed and onto his feet. He was so tired. He swayed for a second before catching his balance again, his left foot well asleep from having not moved much in the last four or five hours. His Herbology essay lay on his Potions book, half finished. Professor Longbottom wanted eight feet on garden gnomes by tomorrow morning. Next to that was his stack of Muggle Studies that he was also nearly finished with. He had another six feet due for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but not until Tuesday. Thank God. This was all on top of his regular homework of course, and finding time to do it between classes and the numerous detentions he seemed to have acquired over the week was almost impossible. Consequently, sleep had become a rare activity and eating even moreso.
He was pretty scruffy, hair mussed and sticking up in odd places. He felt like he'd lost weight, which perhaps wasn't so surprising considering the lack of nourishment in his diet as of late. All his energy was gone as well, and simple things like walking to class left him feeling totally exhausted, especially when he had to go from the dungeons to the fourth floor library. A week ago he would have laughed at the thought of five flights of stairs tiring him out, but it did. And it'd only been a week since they'd gotten back to class. James had an itching feeling that Neville Longbottom would not abandon Operation: Kill Bradfield any time soon. Fuck.
But now, he had to see Tucker. He hadn't seen her in four days. When was the last time they'd that long without at least writing? Had to have been when they were ten or so.... oh right. That's right. Never. James toed his trainers on and glanced in the mirror to make sure he didn't look horrible. He sort of did. Impatiently, he attempted to fix his hair. With no real progress, he went to the bathroom and splashed a good amount of cold water on his face. He had to wake up. Really. This was ridiculous, he was stronger than this... Right?
Walking slowly and carefully, as to keep his balance, James made his way out of the dormitory and common room. He probably wasn't even noticed. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with those water dragons that had appeared earlier in the week. They were interesting, he had to admit. But he was too preoccupied with other things to be more than faintly interested.
Dungeon five wasn't too far away, thankfully, and when he got there, he was still alone. So he stretched out on one of the long tables, resting his head on his arms. Now he just had to keep himself awake until Tucker got here. That at least he could do. Hopefully.
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