|George Fabian Weasley (his_evil_twin) wrote in eighth_rpg,|
@ 2010-12-19 09:56:00
|Entry tags:||alicia spinnet, george weasley|
WHO: Alicia Spinnet and George Weasley
WHAT: Falling apart and being put back together
WHERE: The flat above 93 Diagon Alley
WHEN: Evening, 18th December
RATING: Highish for language and cranky George
The flat was in shambles. Plates, pictures, furniture, trinkets, books, and tools were broken and strewn on the floor. It hadn't taken long for George to make the mess, even without the use of magic. It had felt good, though the neighbors probably thought him a nutter. He didn't care. Then again, explosions were commonplace coming from number 93.
The need to destroy had come from desperation and anger, and also a childish hope that enough of a mess would call his mother back from the beyond to clean it up for him.
So far, this hadn't happened.
He sat on the sofa in the middle of the maelstrom, staring at the single remaining unbroken object. A violently purple and sparkling urn sitting on the cracked coffee table.
"They say you're all together now," he said in a rough voice, he hadn't spoken a word between leaving the Ball and his recent outburst, and there had been a lot of yelling, "well fantastic for you." He tipped back his Firewhiskey, glaring at Fred's ashes as though it was all his fault.
"I hope you're having a great reunion while the rest of us have to get on with our lives."
The purple ceramic vase made no reply, it just sat quietly on the coffee table, golden flashes of light playing underneath the glaze. It did not snark back, though George imagined he could hear it. Until the end of his days, he would always know what his brother would have said.
"Fuck you, too." George said and pushed himself to his feet. He needed a new bottle.