"Then use it." Alicia sat silent as he ranted, retreating back into her numb state of apathy. It was comfortable there. She let his words wash over her because in the end they were only words. Al never took much stock in words. You could say whatever you wanted but the true test was in action. He was going on about doing more to act without stating how he'd go about or any intention of doing so. He'd rant now but that didn't mean he'd do something later. What good would it even do him? He could end up homeless and miserable like her, how noble it all was.
"Stop crying," she said sharply, breaking through the pitiful sounds of his sobs. "Stop. Crying. Stop crying!," she shouted, not caring who might be able to overhear her. "What do you have to cry for? Because you weren't branded? Hit? Tortured? Homeless? Locked in a fucking cell as dementors sucked at your soul? Boo fucking hoo, how do you stand the normality?"
Alicia stood, suddenly unable to stomach the sight of her friend. He didn't feel like a friend in this moment. "I'm not going to sit here and calm your ego. I'm not going to tell you that you've done the best you've can. You chose to sit back. Own it or fucking change it. I was rotting in a fucking cell George, and you're the one crying? Not for me but because you feel guilty? You should feel guilty. You're a selfish bastard and I don't have time for this. Don't drag me in here to make you feel better, maybe try to be a friend to me for a change. Or Ang or Bell or anyone else. This isn't about you so stop crying!"