WHO Alicia Spinnet and Charlie Weasley WHEN 19 August 2005 | evening WHERE Charlie's flat RATING PG13ish
Al was far more shaken than she wanted to admit. It had only been a week. Less than. Six days. Six days was nothing compared to the months her friends had been locked in there. So why did she feel so shaken? Her entire body still felt cold, her hands shaking and an ever present chill still hovering over her. Robbie's face had been a needed relief when she was released but it hadn't helped her bounce back completely. She spent the first few hours of her release running. Her body ached and her sides were cramping so badly that it hurt to breathe but she didn't stop. She needed to be outside, to flee the demons that had been exploited in that cell. She wouldn't survive that again, maybe she was weak to think it but so be it. Azkaban was too much for her.
When she could go no further she walked back to her shop, needing the familiar comfort of her brooms. It seemed too small, the space too cramped. It was only then that she faced her journal. Faced the sudden absence she had taken with no excuse when one of her sisters was injured. She wanted to hide out but for once in her life she was willing to admit she needed support, without saying as much. It was against her character to ask for help but she needed a safe place to sleep, away from the dementors and the screams. Charlie was letting her get away with it and for that she was thankful. Justin had been nice and all to let her stay but he wasn't apart of her circle, the people she needed to function. Charlie was.
She knocked on his door, a measly bag of belongings in her hand. Prison or no she always packed light. "Hey," she said, not bothering to force a smile when he opened the door. "Point me to the open spot on the floor."