RP: Moving on up...
Date: 2 October, 2000 |just past midnight
Characters: George Weasley, St.Mungo's [NPC's]
Location: St. Mungo's
Status: Private
Summary: George relocates and finds something he's been missing.
Completion: Complete
It's been a long day. A long week. He's had visitors and biscuits and is wearing his own clothes. He's answered post, all but the four from his friends, and has even got some in return. One of the staff has given him Grace's picture from his wallet, and he's spent hours just lying on his bed, looking at her. Watching her wriggle and wave her little arms. He's sure she's just huge now, because although he saw her only a week or so ago, she must have grown by now.
He's eaten a bit. Showered. Spent an agonizing almost two hours with Greystone, and they've discussed the shop and the fire and Fred. His visit with Aunt Muriel, illicit as it was. His visit with Lee... George sighs, thinking about that. He's not sure that it went well, even though there wasn't anything startlingly wrong with it. It was hard to talk to Lee, for some reason. He hadn't been able to come up with a reason, couldn't quite put his finger on it, even with Joseph's gentle questions. But now, in the dark and the quiet and the alone, he thought maybe he knew. He'd reached for Lee. Held tightly to him, hardly able to believe he was there...
And Lee had asked him, What are you doing here?
As if he'd be here, if he knew. As if he had a choice in the matter at all...
And Lee had said, Fuck, mate. You need to eat.
George had said he wasn't hungry.
Lee's reply had been, Eat anyway... I'll ask your mum for something...
Did everything in the world have to revolve around what he put in his mouth?
Maybe it does. George doesn't care. He doesn't care that his clothes are too big. That Lenore spent five minutes with her wand adjusting the waist of his jeans so they'd stay up, because he's not allowed a belt. Everything else is completely and utterly out of his control, but he can control this.
He can control what he puts into his mouth. And when he feels like eating, he will. If he feels like it.
Besides, someone somewhere must think what he's eaten is enough. That the progress he's made is real. This afternoon he and James gathered his little pile of clothing and the box with his letters and books and parchment and crayons, and they walked through the corridors to this room. It's a good room. Just on the other side of the hallway, really; this ward and the other share the same common staff desk, but...
The door opens here. All the doors open, save one. He's permitted to walk the corridors to a sitting area with books, and puzzles, and a wide window that faces East. James is still his orderly, and Lenore still brings his meals, but he can eat in a small dining room if he wants, with other people. He hasn't met them yet; he took the afternoon to put his things away and nap. But tomorrow, maybe. Well, today, once the sun comes up. It'll appear just there... Right on the Eastern horizon.
He stands at the window, finding a new comfortable spot. This room isn't set up like the other. The bed is on the opposite wall. The chair is blue, instead of green. But the window is just as cool. He stares off into the night, focusing on nothing in particular, then a bright spot near the horizon catches his eye. Another just next to it, and he puts a hand to the window as his eyes find the familiar pattern of stars. Castor. And Pollux. His stars. Their stars...
Yes. This is a good room. He'll sleep in a while, and try to answer more post in the morning, but for now, he's still, staring at the steady light of the stars he's watched since he was old enough to find them...
Characters: George Weasley, St.Mungo's [NPC's]
Location: St. Mungo's
Status: Private
Summary: George relocates and finds something he's been missing.
Completion: Complete
It's been a long day. A long week. He's had visitors and biscuits and is wearing his own clothes. He's answered post, all but the four from his friends, and has even got some in return. One of the staff has given him Grace's picture from his wallet, and he's spent hours just lying on his bed, looking at her. Watching her wriggle and wave her little arms. He's sure she's just huge now, because although he saw her only a week or so ago, she must have grown by now.
He's eaten a bit. Showered. Spent an agonizing almost two hours with Greystone, and they've discussed the shop and the fire and Fred. His visit with Aunt Muriel, illicit as it was. His visit with Lee... George sighs, thinking about that. He's not sure that it went well, even though there wasn't anything startlingly wrong with it. It was hard to talk to Lee, for some reason. He hadn't been able to come up with a reason, couldn't quite put his finger on it, even with Joseph's gentle questions. But now, in the dark and the quiet and the alone, he thought maybe he knew. He'd reached for Lee. Held tightly to him, hardly able to believe he was there...
And Lee had asked him, What are you doing here?
As if he'd be here, if he knew. As if he had a choice in the matter at all...
And Lee had said, Fuck, mate. You need to eat.
George had said he wasn't hungry.
Lee's reply had been, Eat anyway... I'll ask your mum for something...
Did everything in the world have to revolve around what he put in his mouth?
Maybe it does. George doesn't care. He doesn't care that his clothes are too big. That Lenore spent five minutes with her wand adjusting the waist of his jeans so they'd stay up, because he's not allowed a belt. Everything else is completely and utterly out of his control, but he can control this.
He can control what he puts into his mouth. And when he feels like eating, he will. If he feels like it.
Besides, someone somewhere must think what he's eaten is enough. That the progress he's made is real. This afternoon he and James gathered his little pile of clothing and the box with his letters and books and parchment and crayons, and they walked through the corridors to this room. It's a good room. Just on the other side of the hallway, really; this ward and the other share the same common staff desk, but...
The door opens here. All the doors open, save one. He's permitted to walk the corridors to a sitting area with books, and puzzles, and a wide window that faces East. James is still his orderly, and Lenore still brings his meals, but he can eat in a small dining room if he wants, with other people. He hasn't met them yet; he took the afternoon to put his things away and nap. But tomorrow, maybe. Well, today, once the sun comes up. It'll appear just there... Right on the Eastern horizon.
He stands at the window, finding a new comfortable spot. This room isn't set up like the other. The bed is on the opposite wall. The chair is blue, instead of green. But the window is just as cool. He stares off into the night, focusing on nothing in particular, then a bright spot near the horizon catches his eye. Another just next to it, and he puts a hand to the window as his eyes find the familiar pattern of stars. Castor. And Pollux. His stars. Their stars...
Yes. This is a good room. He'll sleep in a while, and try to answer more post in the morning, but for now, he's still, staring at the steady light of the stars he's watched since he was old enough to find them...