RP: Alex and George Who: Alex and George Where: The Meadows When: 11 February, after supper Rating/Warnings: tba Summary: Alex packs, talks, writes.
Alex sat in the middle of a pile of clothing and books; he'd emptied his dresser and wardrobe into the floor along with half the bookshelf, and was currently ignoring the lot in favour of the small spiral-bound notebook he had propped on his knee. He'd been writing, like Healer Brocklehurst had suggested. Date and time. Situation. Cravings. Over the last few days, there'd been more, but today, surprisingly few.
Well, except for now.
I never thought I'd say it, but I'm nervous about going back to school. I always thought Hogwarts was safe. But Uncle Harry's been attacked, and is really sick, and they think Lily Luna did it. She wouldn't, not on her own. I heard that they think it was Voldemort. So how did he get to her? How did he make her do it? She wouldn't ever hurt anyone without something making her.
And I've wanted a drink about a hundred times over the last week (see prior pages if you don't believe me) and this morning I did. But not now. It's weird. When I was worried about Lils I was anxious, and going back to school should set me off, I thought, with the school being obviously not safe. But it doesn't. I don't get it. I guess it's good. At least I'm not hunting down the Stoli.
He stuck the pencil into the spiral binding and set the little book aside, then started sorting the pile of unmatched socks. No matter what you were wearing, you had to have socks.