InsaneJournal

Who: Penelope Clearwater and Harry Potter
What: Penelope wonders if she has gone mad.
Where: St. Mungo's; Waiting room.
When: October 31 - 13:00

It was a morning where Penelope had woken up with a start, her pulse racing and a sweat trickling down her forehead. For the first while she wouldn't--couldn't--get out of bed, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting that someone was there. It was just a dream, I'll be alright, she told herself repeatedly. It felt as though her right hand was particularly sore or something, or maybe it was her imagination, or maybe it was her memory. It took her the better part of the morning and it was only by the early afternoon that she had gotten herself out of bed, dressed and fed. Maybe Llyod was right, maybe she did need to get help--the thought passed and she shook her head to herself. "I'm not mad," she said to herself in the mirror before she brushed her teeth.

An hour later, she had arrived at St. Mungo's having decided that her hand was sore enough to merit a visit to the hospital to have it checked. Maybe she'd ask the Healer in a non-chalant manner about her dreams. Just to see what he or she thought about the whole matter. Where dreams supposed to be that vivid? That real? Or was she going mad? And not to mention, there was an odd black spot that wrapped its way around her right wrist and forearm.

She sat in the waiting room, having taken a number from the roll that sat on a desk where an overly happy, petit witch sat and read a novel between filing papers, and answering telephone calls. Penelope forgot to bring her own book, but knew that she hadn't the ability to focus on anything right now. Instead she had taken to counting the number of letters on an edition of Witch's Weekly that sat in her lap.