(no subject)
Date: Monday, June 11th
Time: 5:00 PM
Location: Hogwarts, Spinner's End in time
Characters Involved: Theodore and Juneau
Rating: PG for now
It was a little after five in the afternoon when Theodore made his way over to the gates of Hogwarts, his steps slow but sure, calculated.
A storm raged beneath the calm.
In mere moments he would meet with Juneau again, after months of absence, travelling, exploring, breathing. Running. He should've known better than to return, thinking a sense of rationalism would have fallen over the country. He'd never been more sorely mistaken, disillusioned and confronted with such a harsh reality. The same heavy feel as ever draped itself over him last night, made it difficult to breathe, sensing deep anguish everywhere he turned.
Returning to Spinner's End today would have to take care of such feelings, he reasoned, even as he emotionally shut down, pulled up his own inner walls and turned to the gates once more. He had not glanced up at the castle once since he stood still. Fingertips brushed over the bars of the gates, old, rusty and cold to the touch, and he waited, seemingly undisturbed and in a world of his own.
Time: 5:00 PM
Location: Hogwarts, Spinner's End in time
Characters Involved: Theodore and Juneau
Rating: PG for now
It was a little after five in the afternoon when Theodore made his way over to the gates of Hogwarts, his steps slow but sure, calculated.
A storm raged beneath the calm.
In mere moments he would meet with Juneau again, after months of absence, travelling, exploring, breathing. Running. He should've known better than to return, thinking a sense of rationalism would have fallen over the country. He'd never been more sorely mistaken, disillusioned and confronted with such a harsh reality. The same heavy feel as ever draped itself over him last night, made it difficult to breathe, sensing deep anguish everywhere he turned.
Returning to Spinner's End today would have to take care of such feelings, he reasoned, even as he emotionally shut down, pulled up his own inner walls and turned to the gates once more. He had not glanced up at the castle once since he stood still. Fingertips brushed over the bars of the gates, old, rusty and cold to the touch, and he waited, seemingly undisturbed and in a world of his own.