RP - A new turn
Title: A new turn
Date: 08/09/1998
Time of Day: late evening
Characters: Charlie Weasley, anyone who happens to be at the Burrow at the moment is welcome to join in :)
Location: The Burrow (in the kitchen)
Status: Semi-public
Brief Summary: Charlie works on his application for a job in England...
Completion: Complete
Warnings: Language, I guess?
Charlie cursed under his breath, waving his wand to once again erase everything he had been writing in the past hour. Sitting at a desk (or, in his present case, at the kitchen table of his parents' house), thinking and writing were just not his thing. He longed for a walk outside, but he had decided to finish that application tonight, and so he would, even if it killed him.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to clear his mind a bit, he put his wand back on the table, and grabbed his quill again. Where was he again? Ah, yes, his motivations for this job. Well, he certainly liked magical creatures, and he liked to think that he had a good expertise in that field...
... but if he wanted to be honest, he had never really wanted to work for the Ministry. Even the Ministry as it was now, under Kingsley Shacklebolt's supervision, was not exactly the place he had been dreaming of ending up in. No, if he wanted that position at the Magical Creatures Department, it was for one reason only, and a selfish one: he did not want to leave his family again.
He sighed as his thoughts drifted once again to what had happened in the past months. While in Romania, away from the battlefield, he had not fully realized what was happening in his family. He hadn't been there when Bill had been attacked, nor when his dad had nearly died. Even in the last battle, he had been late; Voldemort and his Death Eaters had already done a lot of damage, and Fred had already been dead...
What kind of brother had Charlie been, to let all his siblings fight, suffer, and die, while he was away, living his adventures in comfortable Romania? Oh, he had been in the Order, all right. But what exactly had he done to help? Contacting a few wizards, here and there... it had not really helped Fred, or Bill.
"Damnit," he cursed again, a little louder. In a furious gesture, he threw his quill away, then clenched his fists and pressed them to his eyes. "Damnit..." he repeated in a frustrated tone. "Damnit, damnit, damnit."
This application was getting nowhere. Yet, after what had happened at George's this morning, he had promised himself that he would hurry up and get that job here. He just had to calm down a bit.
Date: 08/09/1998
Time of Day: late evening
Characters: Charlie Weasley, anyone who happens to be at the Burrow at the moment is welcome to join in :)
Location: The Burrow (in the kitchen)
Status: Semi-public
Brief Summary: Charlie works on his application for a job in England...
Completion: Complete
Warnings: Language, I guess?
Charlie cursed under his breath, waving his wand to once again erase everything he had been writing in the past hour. Sitting at a desk (or, in his present case, at the kitchen table of his parents' house), thinking and writing were just not his thing. He longed for a walk outside, but he had decided to finish that application tonight, and so he would, even if it killed him.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to clear his mind a bit, he put his wand back on the table, and grabbed his quill again. Where was he again? Ah, yes, his motivations for this job. Well, he certainly liked magical creatures, and he liked to think that he had a good expertise in that field...
... but if he wanted to be honest, he had never really wanted to work for the Ministry. Even the Ministry as it was now, under Kingsley Shacklebolt's supervision, was not exactly the place he had been dreaming of ending up in. No, if he wanted that position at the Magical Creatures Department, it was for one reason only, and a selfish one: he did not want to leave his family again.
He sighed as his thoughts drifted once again to what had happened in the past months. While in Romania, away from the battlefield, he had not fully realized what was happening in his family. He hadn't been there when Bill had been attacked, nor when his dad had nearly died. Even in the last battle, he had been late; Voldemort and his Death Eaters had already done a lot of damage, and Fred had already been dead...
What kind of brother had Charlie been, to let all his siblings fight, suffer, and die, while he was away, living his adventures in comfortable Romania? Oh, he had been in the Order, all right. But what exactly had he done to help? Contacting a few wizards, here and there... it had not really helped Fred, or Bill.
"Damnit," he cursed again, a little louder. In a furious gesture, he threw his quill away, then clenched his fists and pressed them to his eyes. "Damnit..." he repeated in a frustrated tone. "Damnit, damnit, damnit."
This application was getting nowhere. Yet, after what had happened at George's this morning, he had promised himself that he would hurry up and get that job here. He just had to calm down a bit.