Continuing the First Offense:
It was a sunny and blissful day. Birds were singing, grasshoppers chirping, beavers were chewing somewhere in the world..... but realistically, this was more what George wished. To paint an accurate picture, it was a dark and stormy night, something like the inside of a washing machine that's running during a power outage. It was just one of those nights outside, the adorable redhead decided, as he stared out the slowly fogging window of the Leaky Cauldron.
He sighed, placing both elbows on the stained, wooden table with a thump, and cupped his hands so his faintly jutting chin fit nicely into his palms. The laughter around him would have bothered him, had he not changed.
That's right. George had changed. It was an inexplicable thing. He wasn't petty anymore, though he had never thought of himself like that until recently. He laughed at crude jokes, which was quite an odd feeling. He was beginning to do bad things, things like not pinning his socks together when he washed them, and... and he wasn't studying for school. And, it was like Fred was going through the same ordeal.
Speaking of Fred, he was having a dandy old time. He hands were wringing themselves till they were pink as he stared at the old oak door. His bright green eyes were terribly bloodshot, which made them look something like a Christmas decoration.
It was a sunny and blissful day. Birds were singing, grasshoppers chirping, beavers were chewing somewhere in the world..... but realistically, this was more what George wished. To paint an accurate picture, it was a dark and stormy night, something like the inside of a washing machine that's running during a power outage. It was just one of those nights outside, the adorable redhead decided, as he stared out the slowly fogging window of the Leaky Cauldron.
He sighed, placing both elbows on the stained, wooden table with a thump, and cupped his hands so his faintly jutting chin fit nicely into his palms. The laughter around him would have bothered him, had he not changed.
That's right. George had changed. It was an inexplicable thing. He wasn't petty anymore, though he had never thought of himself like that until recently. He laughed at crude jokes, which was quite an odd feeling. He was beginning to do bad things, things like not pinning his socks together when he washed them, and... and he wasn't studying for school. And, it was like Fred was going through the same ordeal.
Speaking of Fred, he was having a dandy old time. He hands were wringing themselves till they were pink as he stared at the old oak door. His bright green eyes were terribly bloodshot, which made them look something like a Christmas decoration.