We Shall Call Him Picard [closed]

[ccecilia]

The fear that Cecilia felt when her magic disappeared was unprecedented. And given her history, that was saying something. Though, she was hardly given the proper amount of time to let it settle as she was torn back and forth among all wards that day, dealing with the terrible fall out as charms and spells faded. Pansy's death was a shock but the

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[george_goesboom]

For as long as he could remember, George had usually spent the last week of March gearing up for his birthday - not, like most people did, organizing parties or subtly reminding his friends of the upcoming date or clearing the schedules of the following days for the sake of recuperation. No. The week before his birthday was spent organizing pranks, stocking up on the best of the tricks the store had to offer, and preparing himself for the inevitable retaliations those who knew him best generally had in stores for him

[ccecilia]

There wasn't a face she wanted to see more than his at this very moment. Of all the people that flashed through her mind when the magic went dark, his was the one that stayed with her the longest, her mind constantly racing back to him and the shop while she was rushing through the halls. He was her distraction, her only semblance of a reprieve when Pansy was taken away. She could let herself worry about him, even if in the back of her mind she knew he was stronger than anyone else she knew- that he would be fine

[george_goesboom]

George couldn't help but grin a little wider at the less than subtle look she gave him, meeting that bite of her lip with a silly, cheeky little shake of his hips, the chaos of the past few days all but forgotten now that she was here. He closed the door behind her and turned his attention to the box she all but shoved at him, the rattling and shifting weight of whatever was inside made that much more obvious once he took it from her

[ccecilia]

She had felt properly awful to stick the little guy inside the box. Even if she had carefully poked enough holes in the walls that it might as well have become a cage. She had fallen for the little english bulldog from the moment she scooped him up from the shelter, carefully avoiding any kisses on the mouth when it lapped at her face. She had found him early that morning when she was out picking up a few things and he quickly became her buddy while she finished her errands. It was strange how easily she took to him, never having been graced with a pet when she was a child