#trafopen

Weak. She felt weak and she hated it so much. Every month without fail this would happen and whatever walls she could construct in the other twenty days would come crashing down as her whole body tore itself apart to become something she’d really rather forget. Yet because society hated and scorned anyone like her she had to walk around like nothing was was wrong with her; walk around like every bone in her body wasn’t going to break apart or like her muscles weren’t going to rip and tear and turn her into a killer.

Leaning against a wall in an alleyway just off the main street of Diagon Alley, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and took a breath, trying to wipe her forehead of the sweat building up. Evening was drawing in now and soon she’d have to give up trying to find some druggie to sell to and retreat back to her flat, lock and bolt the doors and hope for the best. Gideon could be a problem but she’d find a solution.

He was out, oh my god he had made it back. In one piece, well mostly. How he had survived would forever be a miracle. But he was back, back at Hogwarts. He just wanted to sleep. He had hardly slept, or recovered since the full moon on Sunday night. He needed sleep and he needed it now.