[log] all my maps will only show me how to lose my way
Sunday comes, and with it Gilly's energized anxiety - of course it's ridiculous to worry about what to wear, but that doesn't mean she's not going to. She's throwing a too-big-for-her leather jacket on over the dress she settled on when she finally skitters down the stairs, grabbing her purse off the kitchen table and stopping for a moment like the eye of the storm to cast about in case she's missed anything.
"Aunt Frances! Aunt Frances!"
"It's in your coat pocket, dear."
"Oh. Okay, good!" Gilly folds up the article, cut out of the Prophet, and shoves it in her purse as well, pausing in the doorway to strike a pose. "How do I look?"
"Like you're about to go make trouble. Have fun, Gillybean."
Gilly presses her thumb against the button and closes her eyes.
(She still wants him to teach her how to do it without the PINpoint.)