RP: Bailey and Open Who: Bailey and anyone in the Weasley quarters Where: Hogwarts, Angie's quarters When: January 8, 2025: early morning Warnings: none Summary: Bailey can't sleep.
It was early, far to early for even the sun to be awake, yet there Bailey was, curled up in a corner of the sofa in the sitting room of the pseudo-flat, sketch book in her lap.
She'd tried studying. There were three Potions she'd be making that month that she needed to do research on, not to mention looking over things for the rest of her classes, but she just had no motivation. Her dreams had been restless, filled with visions of a girl, dressed in her Halloween princess costume, searching for something. In the dream she was lost, not even knowing what she was looking for, but once she woke up, Bailey knew exactly what she was missing.
She wanted to go home, and she wanted to see Fred.
It's not like she didn't like the castle, but it just wasn't home for her. The land surrounding the castle was frozen white, but it seemed even colder inside than out. She felt this way at the beginning of every term when she went to school. It took a while to get used to things, get used to not being in the warmth of a real home. And she'd just seen Fred that same Monday, but it seemed so far away now. She wanted so badly to write to him, but restrained herself. He didn't want a relationship, so she was going to give him what he wanted. She didn't want to be clingy; and annoying little girl whining because she didn't get what she wanted.
No, she could be a big girl about it all. That's why she had her art. It was another outlet for her. A way to get her emotions out without bothering the people around her with her problems. So she grabbed her sketchbook and a pencil and set to work.
Not thinking about what she was drawing, she just let her mind and her hand go free, and a while later when she pulled back into herself to see what she'd come up with, she couldn't decide if she wanted to smile or cry. The princess from her dream, trapped in a castle tower. At the bottom of the tower, a man stood, looking up at the princess, sword in hand so he could defeat any monster keeping her captive.
With a sigh, Bailey set the sketch aside on the seat of the sofa and wrapped her arms around her legs, curled against her chest. All she could do was remind herself that the first Hogsmeade trip of the term was in twenty days. Twenty days.