RP: I'm Coming Home
Characters: Percy Weasley, Cho Chang
Location: St. Mungo's | Home
Date: January 15, 2000
Status/Warning: Private
Summary: Home at last.
Completion: Complete
With the cursebreaker's fear abated, Percy had been allowed the proper dosage of skele-grow and dittany; the crutches seemed to break and fall away until only a simple wooden cane remained. Outside, the world was paled by the first teasing melt of the snow since before he and George left for the rescue. Not that he really remembered much of that time than the maps, his pendulum and a million pots of tea, made mechanically by trembling. exhausted hands.
It was surreal, that for however lived in his hospital room had become, remove the few items that made it that way--a stack of books and Daily Prophets in the bedside table and a vase of peony at the foot of the bed--and it went back to being as cold and impersonal as when he first awoke from that frozen nightmare.
Taking a deep, steadying breath and leaning heavily on the cane, Percy gathered the books and glanced at himself in the small vanity mirror. He was wearing one of his mother's sweaters, an old one she had probably dug out of the million that had been left behind when he moved out. The pants were old too, jeans that were once reserved for the dirtier chores of living at The Burrow, working the the garden or weeding the flower patches. The whole ensamble made him look ridiculously young again--if it weren't for the stupidly long hair. He almost looked like Charlie with a perm. Smiling once, he walked for the first time to Cho's room on the floor above and knocked.
"Cho, are you ready to go?"
Location: St. Mungo's | Home
Date: January 15, 2000
Status/Warning: Private
Summary: Home at last.
Completion: Complete
With the cursebreaker's fear abated, Percy had been allowed the proper dosage of skele-grow and dittany; the crutches seemed to break and fall away until only a simple wooden cane remained. Outside, the world was paled by the first teasing melt of the snow since before he and George left for the rescue. Not that he really remembered much of that time than the maps, his pendulum and a million pots of tea, made mechanically by trembling. exhausted hands.
It was surreal, that for however lived in his hospital room had become, remove the few items that made it that way--a stack of books and Daily Prophets in the bedside table and a vase of peony at the foot of the bed--and it went back to being as cold and impersonal as when he first awoke from that frozen nightmare.
Taking a deep, steadying breath and leaning heavily on the cane, Percy gathered the books and glanced at himself in the small vanity mirror. He was wearing one of his mother's sweaters, an old one she had probably dug out of the million that had been left behind when he moved out. The pants were old too, jeans that were once reserved for the dirtier chores of living at The Burrow, working the the garden or weeding the flower patches. The whole ensamble made him look ridiculously young again--if it weren't for the stupidly long hair. He almost looked like Charlie with a perm. Smiling once, he walked for the first time to Cho's room on the floor above and knocked.
"Cho, are you ready to go?"