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Chapter 21.

November.

Where's Wally? (im sorry I had to)

Despite having only one place she'd ever called home, Lara didn't feel like much changed over the next few weeks. At home, her dad was at work all hours of the day anyway and Pamela spent most of her time with her sisters and friends in Durham, gossiping over tea and going to spas. This, more often than not, left Walter and Lara home to their own devices.

In the new house, everything was the same; they fought over the bathroom, they made meals together, they watched muggle films and debated them afterwards, they left a mess in the living room that they both said they'd clean up in the morning, but never did. Sometimes, friends would pop over for a chat or to get drunk, and Walter brought home a Niffler from work that stole all of Lara's jewellery (until she caught it trying to climb over the garden wall).

The only difference, Lara realised, was that the amount of money she had severely decreased. Not only did she have to pay 'rent', she and Walter spent the next month buying necessities for the house, including, but not limited to, a couch for the living room, as Lara was sick of not being able to feel her butt after hours on the hardwood floor.

With Lara on a fairly abysmal wage, and Walter having spent his entire savings on the house, the siblings found themselves trailing around muggle charity shops every weekend. At first, it seemed like the house would never be filled, but as they days slipped into November, Lara realised the few things she and Walter were buying every week were beginning to add up.

On the first Tuesday of November, after going out for tea with Erin, Lara returned up via floo…and ran straight into a coffee table.

"Bloody hell," she hissed, rubbing her stinging thigh. "What the hell…"

When she and Walter had left for work that morning, there had been no table. In fact, Lara remembered mentioning to her brother that they needed one, as the night before she'd placed her hot chocolate onto the floor and Walter had kicked it over. It seemed her brother had taken the suggestion to heart; there, placed between the two mismatched couches they'd bought from separate charity shops, was a glass-topped stand. The stump, however, was not glass, but instead the statue of a rather large penguin.

"This is worse than the dragon," Lara murmured, for the dragon statue she'd found in the basement of her brothers tent was now on her upstairs landing, scaring her into a near heart attack every time she climbed the stairs. "WALTER!"

She was met by nothing but silence. Huffing, Lara threw her bag onto the couch and rushed to her brother's bedroom, expecting him to be taking one of his regular naps. However, when she flung the door open, she only saw an empty bedroom.

Lara pressed herself against the doorframe, a frown on her face. She glanced around the room, wondering if he was hiding from her wrath. When he'd put the dragon statue on the stairs, she'd tried to hex him to Timbuktu. It had taken many, many delicious takeaways and a new mood ring for her to forgive him. He'd also called her the 'bestest sister in the whole world' because she hadn't tried to get rid of his beloved ornament.

(What he didn't know, however, was that Lara had tried, but it was such a tight squeeze, she'd almost put the bloody thing through the bathroom wall and decided it was more trouble than it was worth—she honestly didn't understand how he got it there in the first place.)

After a few minutes of quiet, Lara turned on her heels and went back downstairs. She checked the garden, too, in case Walter was trying to build a fire-pit again (there was a large black stain on the decking from a very dangerous 'accident' involving a match, a can of aerosol and a bag of marshmallows from two weeks ago), but that was also empty. Stepping back into the house, Lara walked over to the couch and dropped down onto it, tugging on the ends of her hair.

She was worried; this wasn't the first time since they'd returned from their graphorn adventure that Walter had gone missing. In fact, this had happened at least a dozen times now. She'd come home to an empty house, only for Walter to suddenly turn up out of the blue, sometimes days later, unharmed and acting like nothing strange had gone on. When she tried to ask about it, he'd say, "Oh, just work stuff," and change the subject.

She knew it wasn't work stuff. She was, after all, his assistant. Anything he did at work, she knew about. More than that, anything he did at work, she planned. For all their future ventures, she was the one doing the boring stuff, like planning Porkey's and deciding what they needed to pack in their bags. Meanwhile, Walter was planning their route on maps and getting into contact with foreign Ministry's to let them know two British Magizoologists would soon be on their turf.

So, everything he was doing, everything he was going to do, she knew…and there were no late night meetings or short-term trips on his itinerary. Instead of pointing this out, Lara was trying to give him some space. After all, just because she didn't mind spending most of her time with Walter, didn't mean she didn't get on his nerves sometimes. Maybe he was dating someone and just didn't want her to know. Maybe he was even dating a co-worker.

But, as much as she understood his need for privacy, he needed to tell her something. Her mind was coming up with all sorts of possibilities, especially with everything going on in the world, and she couldn't stand this anymore. The stress and anxiety had already shaven at least a decade off her lifespan.

Walter didn't return that night…nor the next night, or the night after that. By Friday, Lara was practically out of her mind with worry. She wanted to hug her brother as tightly as possible and slap him across the face at the same time. She was both angry and upset; how dare he do this, how dare he just disappear into the thin air, with no way to contact him or check if he was okay. If it was the other way around, if she'd suddenly went off into the world without a backwards glance, she could only imagine his reaction. He'd probably lock her in her bedroom or something.

Well, she was going to do the same to him when he came back…if he came back.

Lara quickly shook her head, breaking her daze, and looked back into her bedroom mirror. She focused on her eyeliner again and tried to sweep it across her lower lid, but she was shaking too much. When she poked herself in the eye for the second time, she sighed and threw her makeup to the floor. How she looked now would have to do. If she spent any more time at home thinking about Walter and what danger he could be in, she was going to collapse, so she grabbed her purse and headed for the fireplace, where she floo'ed to the Thruston place.

"Lara!" Stan greeted her the instant she landed in his living room. "I hope you're already drunk!"

"Not quite," she replied, holding up her large bottle of fire-whiskey. "But I've got the stuff to get there."

"I've brought some muggle stuff called…Bacardi Rum," said Erin, inspecting the bottle carefully. "Not sure what it's like, but…"

"It's alcohol. It'll do," Omar snorted.

Lara took a seat on the couch beside Stan, crossing her boot-covered legs. "No Amanda yet?" she asked the group, grabbing a cup from the coffee table.

"Not yet," Erin sighed. "Did she say she was definitely coming?"

"Said so in her letter, yeah."

"She's just running late," Stan shrugged and took a swig of his drink. "Let's play a game."

They, somehow, ended up playing a muggle game called Twister, drinking in-between falling over and pushing each other down. Lara was in a half-crouched position with Erin sort of sat on her and Stan's butt in her face when the fireplace glowed green. Glancing over, she saw a familiar head of dark hair stepping into the living room.

"Mandy!" Lara yelped (she may be a little drunk). "You're here!"

"At a bad time, clearly," responded Amanda Chambers, eyeing her group of friends amusedly. Omar, who was manning the game spinner, abandoned his post to bring her into a hug. "Stan, your arse is very close to Lara's face."

"She likes it," Stan replied, wiggling his butt with a grin. "Oh, wait, no she doesn't. I'm not ginger."

"Really? We're starting with the jokes again?" Lara sighed and almost collapsed onto the plastic matt beneath her. "Omar, spin the thing! Spin the thing!"

Omar quickly flicked the dial and said, "Erin, left hand red."

"Oh, thank God," groaned Erin, flinging herself to the other side of the matt.

"We'll never stop with the jokes," Amanda said, sitting on the floor cross-legged beside the game. "Are you still seeing him?"

"Omar, the spinny thing," hissed Lara, her arms wobbling, before she turned to Amanda. "Well, it's kind of difficult to see him at the minute, but we send letters all the time."

"Aw, so romantic."

"Not really. All he does is talk about how much he misses my boobs and complain about some broad called Umbridge," Lara grunted and then squeaked embarrassedly. "Okay, forget I said that. Man, I've had more than I thought…"

"I love drunk Lara," grinned Omar. "She gets so talkative. Also, right foot yellow."

Lara let out a sigh of relief and threw her leg over.

"You're boobs are pretty great," Stan said conversationally.

"Smart man, that Fred," Erin nodded. "Omar, spinny thing."

"Stan, right hand green."

As said boy moved, pressing his jean-covered arse into Lara's cheek, Lara looked at Amanda again. Her friend was pouring herself a drink, methodically measuring out her fire-whiskey to lemonade ratio. Mostly, she looked the same, but she was paler and thinner than Lara remembered. Her dark eyes had light purple bags underneath them that no amount of makeup could hide. Lara opened her mouth to say something—

THUD.

"Owwww," Erin groaned as she rolled off to the side, holding her injured elbow. "Whose idea was it to play Twister?"

Stan snorted, "Yours. You brought it."

"I regret that decision."

"Who cares? I've won!" Lara whooped.

"Eh, excuse me—"

Suddenly, Stan fell forward, having been head-butted in the arse by Lara. As he landed on his arms and crawled forward, Lara beamed and allowed herself to fall to the floor. "Told you," she chirped.

Stan reached back with his leg and kicked her in the shin. "You're a twat."

"Rude," Amanda said and handed Lara her half-empty drink. "Everyone drink up! We're leaving in forty minutes."

By the time the taxi arrived to take them into Bristol, all of them were fairly intoxicated. Stan was the worst; he tripped over three times walking down the pathway, giggling and cheering each time, as if congratulating himself for staying upright. All the way into the city, he sang along to the radio at the top of his lungs, before throwing a wad of money at the driver and dragging everyone out of the mini-bus.

Once inside the club, he turned to his friends and yelled, "I'LL GET SHOTS," before disappearing into the crowd.

"Annnndd we won't see him for the rest of the night," Erin grinned, turning to the remaining group. "Dance floor?"

The girls nodded, but Omar refused and said he was going to find Stan. Lara found herself dancing for most of the night, occasionally pausing to get another drink or use the bathroom. Stan returned a few hours later, having made a bunch of new friends who he proceeded to bounce around the dance floor with. Omar got so drunk that he fell asleep on a sofa, snogging couples encircling him. Erin, to everyone's surprise, struck up a conversation with one of Stan's newly-made friends, and within minutes they were kissing rather fiercely against a wall.

When Stan also found someone to snog, Amanda tugged on Lara's arm and said, "Shall we go outside for a bit?"

Lara agreed and they walked towards the backdoor, which led to a paved area with tables and seats. Sitting down at one of the tables, Amanda pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one up. "Want one?" she asked Lara.

"I'm good," Lara said tiredly, collapsing onto the seat opposite her friend. It was three in the morning now, her feet ached and she was beginning to sober up; honestly, she wanted her bed. "I think I'm gunna go soon."

"Me too," Amanda sighed. "I don't know why I came in first place, to be honest. I'm not good company at the minute."

"You've been fine," replied Lara, seizing her opportunity. "What's up with you, anyway? The guys said they haven't seen you for a while."

Amanda shrugged and blew out a cloud of smoke. "Struggling a bit, is all," she eventually said, looking anywhere but at Lara. "I haven't been able to find a job that I really love, you know? Erin keeps telling me to stay at it, but it's difficult being the bum of the group."

"You're not a bum."

"Yes I am," she said and took another drag of her cigarette. "You're all off being super successful and shit. Meanwhile, I'm lucky to even find a job. Apparently the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley talk and I've got a reputation now. They've told each other not to hire me 'cause I'm not reliable."

"That's insane," Lara breathed. "I didn't know they did that."

"Me either, otherwise I would've been a bit more discreet."

"Well…why don't you find something in the Ministry?" Lara said awkwardly. "Join me and Omar. We could have brunch together and stuff."

Amanda smirked. "Bloody brunch. That's when you know you're a proper adult."

"We are proper adults now," Lara murmured, grabbing her biceps, which were beginning to get cold. "Fred mentioned a charms lesson the other day in a letter and I just thought; bloody hell, I can't even remember my charms lessons. And I thought they were so important at school…time's crazy, Mandy."

"Time is crazy," she agreed. "I remember thinking I was going to be such a hotshot when I left school. Show everyone would I could do. And now…"

"You could still do that."

"Maybe." She sighed, stumping out her cigarette on the table. "My parents are being pretty arsey lately, though. I keep applying for positions and my dad says they're not good enough. I keep saying I don't mind working from the bottom, but he's so…arrogant. He doesn't want his daughter to be a secretary or an assistant, much less to people like that. I don't even know what that means."

Lara was stunned into silence for a moment. She'd never met Amanda's parents, though she'd seen her mum at the platform a few times, and apart from a comment here and there, Amanda hardly ever mentioned them. Lara was starting to see why.

"Everyone has to start from the bottom," Lara decided to say eventually. "Well, anyone that doesn't have connections. You can't become Minister of Magic straight away, you need experience."

"I think he just doesn't know who to trust in the Ministry anymore," Amanda replied. "He…he believes the Prophet, you see. But he says there's spies and stuff in the Ministry, talking about getting Fudge thrown out of office. Some names are being thrown around and he doesn't want me working under anyone in cahoots with the rebels."

"The rebels," Lara snorted, earning a grin from Amanda. "Don't come work in my department, then. We all think the Prophet's full of crap."

Amanda uncomfortably began to fiddle with her jacket. "I'm too distracted to even take notice of the Prophet, to be honest. I just want to find my thing, like all you guys have."

"You'll find it," Lara said, reaching over to squeeze her friends shoulder. "You will, I swear. Some people just take longer than others."

"Yeah, I guess—"

"THERE YOU ARE!" Stan exploded out of the backdoors, running over to the table at full speed. "You'll never guess what—I'll tell you. Erin's gone home with the bloke."

Lara's jaw dropped. "She has not."

"She HAS!" Stan beamed. "I'm so bloody proud of her. I feel like…like I've sent my first born off to Hogwarts or something."

"You're such a weirdo," Amanda huffed with a glare. "And you're far too invested in your friends' sex lives."

"Lack of sex lives," corrected Stan, sassily bopping Amanda on the nose. "If you were all getting some, I wouldn't feel like I need to get you all laid. Speaking of—when was the last time you had some fun?"

"July. Bookkeeper. Three nights together before he ran off with a girl from the ice-cream shop," Amanda responded. "So don't start on me."

"Well, I can't start on her, can I? Her boyfriend's at school…cougar."

Lara rolled her eyes. "He's not my boyfriend."

"If I hear that phrase one more time, I'm going to bat my head against a wall," Omar joined the conversation, loping out the backdoor and plonking on the bench beside Lara. "Of course he's your boyfriend."

"I haven't seen him for four months."

"Not out of choice, though," Omar said, wagging his finger. "As soon as he leaves school, that'll be it. Engaged, married and first kid on the way five years later."

"Five years—"

"And it'll be twins," grinned Stan. "Identical, ginger twins that cause you endless stress."

"Twins actually have to run in the maternal side of the family, not the paternal," Amanda said matter-of-factly. "So it probably won't be twins."

Omar shrugged. "She can just get pregnant a few weeks after the first one, then. No problem."

"And, suddenly, the future looks bright," smirked Stan.

The girls shared a look. Then, together, they both reached for a boy each—Lara for Omar, Amanda for Stan—and whacked them on the back of the head. For smart boys, they could both be incredibly stupid sometimes.

"GUESS WHO HAD SEX LAST NIGHT."

This was what Lara was awoken by the next morning, followed by a body landing beside her on the bed. Groaning drowsily, Lara turned and came face-to-face with Erin, who was beaming down at her, her blue eyes alight with joy.

"By the look on your face, I'd guess you," Lara choked in reply.

"DAMN RIGHT IT WAS ME."

"Shhhhh." Lara moaned into her pillow. "My head is bouncing."

"Sorry," Erin chirped. "I'm just so bloody happy. I feel like the world's bigger, you know? Like there's more out there waiting for me now. And I'm finally over that stupid Ravenclaw lump."

"I'm gunna take a stab in the dark and say you're talking about Omar."

Erin let out a scoff. "Well, duh. If I had to hear the term alright, mate one more time, I was going to stab him. But now…now I'm completely Zen."

"You seem Zen."

"I know that's sarcasm, but I'm gunna let it slide."

"No, I really am glad you're over him," Lara said, turning to look at her best friend. Mostly, she was glad because she was pretty sure over the latter half of seventh year, Omar had developed feelings for Amanda and she really didn't want to deal with that drama. "What was the guy like?"

"He was okay. He had a very posh accent and he was rather good in bed, but he has an obsession with Dinosaurs and he had, like, all these little figurine things in his bedroom. I felt like they were staring at me."

"Maybe they had cameras in."

Erin reached over to hit her on the arm. "You're gross. Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Stan got overly invested in our sex lives. Omar tried to get me pregnant twice within the same year. Oh, and I had a heart-to-heart with Amanda. Turns out her dad is a prick."

"I always thought her parents must be knobs," Erin sighed, so used to her friends by now that the first part didn't even seem strange. "She never talked about them. And every time I ask if her parents are helping her with the job thing, she just shuts down."

"He believes what the Prophets saying and he doesn't want her working with anyone that believes Dumbledore. Which will be difficult, by the way. There's a lot of support for him. I don't think Fudge realises that Dumbledore has taught the last three working generations. Everyone remembers him from school and know he wouldn't lie about something so serious."

"And those who don't believe him were terrible at Transfiguration," Erin smirked. "At least, that's what Mrs Thruston says."

"She's a great woman."

"And he was our Headmaster," Erin continued. "The fear lives on. I, for one, would never mess with him. I'd still feel like I was going to get suspended or something."

"Or get detention with Hagrid," grinned Lara, pushing herself up from bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Sure."

As they left the bedroom, Lara peered into Walter's room, as the door was half-open. Although his bed was unmade, it was clear he hadn't come home last night while she was out. Everything was exactly she same as she remembered.

"Where is he?" Erin asked, having noticed Lara was staring.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"He's been disappearing for weeks," Lara huffed, her heart pounding in her chest. "Sometimes just for a few hours, sometimes for a few nights. Every time I ask, he always says it's work stuff and changes the subject."

"But…you're his assistant—"

"I KNOW," squealed Lara, stomping her foot. "He's such a bloody idiot. Honestly, didn't he think I'd catch on?"

"Do you think he's seeing someone?"

"Surely not," Lara turned to her friend with a questioning gaze. "I mean, he's told me about all the other people he's dated. We don't hide stuff like that from each other."

"Then what could it be?"

"I think…I think he might be doing some secret work…maybe for the rebels, as Amanda's dad puts it. Like…trying to spread support for Dumbledore and get the word out about You-Know-Who."

Erin's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"It's the only thing I can think of," Lara shrugged. "Anyway, let's eat. I'm bloody starving."

Lara made bacon sandwiches and tea before Erin flew off for an afternoon shift at St Mungo's. Lara spent the day hanging around the house, reading and watching muggle TV, and at tea time she created a mess in the kitchen whilst making pasta. At around ten PM, she found herself staring at the hedgehog-shaped clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by.

Where the bloody hell was Walter?

They had work soon! Okay, they'd had work on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, too, but it wasn't unusual for Walter to go missing during the day while he worked on widening his animal behaviour knowledge. Crane regularly let Walter have a few days leeway, but if Walter still wasn't back for Monday…she didn't know what would happen. Would Crane accept his absence, or would he demand to know where he's at? And what would Lara say? She had no IDEA where he was! But would Crane believe that, or would he think she was covering for him—

CRACK.

Lara screamed, scrambling up the couch as two figures landed heavily in the corner of the living room. A head of long, ginger hair was just visible in the dim glow of the lamp, and Lara began to calm down when she recognised who it was.

"You're a Weasley, aren't you?" Lara demanded, getting to her feet. "I saw you at school—Walter!"

The ginger man was forgotten, for her brother was currently on the floor holding onto his right shoulder, which was bleeding profusely. Lara swayed on her feet for a moment, feeling incredibly woozy, but when Walter let out a moan of pain, she rushed to his side. Carefully pulling the material of his plaid shirt aside, she saw he'd splinched himself pretty badly.

Running into the kitchen, Lara grabbed a pair of scissors, a water-soaked towel and a stalk of dittany from one of the plant pots on the kitchen windowsill, which Lara had set up weeks before with the intention to move the plants into the garden once they were strong enough.

With no real idea of what she was doing, Lara knelt beside Walter and cut his shirt up the arm and across the chest, displaying the wound to her. It was mostly focused on the joint, though it spread in thin lines down his right pec. Her mind fixated on helping her brother, she didn't react to the rather gross-looking injury. Placing the towel against the largest part of the wound, she applied pressure to stop the bleeding before lifting Walter's head up with her other hand, forcing the dittany into his mouth.

"Chew and swallow," she commanded in a stern voice.

Walter quickly did as he was told. Around twenty seconds after he'd swallowed, greenish smoke began to swirl from the wound. The bleeding stopped and new skin grew over the gaping, open flesh. Walter let out a sigh of relief and collapsed against the floor.

"Cheers, kid," he gurgled as Lara started to clean the blood from his skin.

"What happened?" she asked, her panic returning now she had nothing to distract her. "And where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick! I know you deserve some space or whatever, but you need to tell me something!"

"You haven't told her?" the Weasley sibling spoke up, throwing Walter a dirty glare. "You bloody idiot."

"Thank you!" Lara huffed, then said, "I'm Lara, by the way. Lara Culpepper."

"Bill Weasley. I'd shake your hand, but…"

She looked down at her hands, which were covered in blood. "Yeah, don't do that."

"I'm not telling her because she'll want to join!" Walter suddenly burst out, forcing himself into sitting position. "And she's not joining. It's too dangerous."

"Joining what?" Lara asked, glancing between to two men. "It's to do with supporting Dumbledore, isn't it? I knew it—"

"She can join if she wants," Bill replied evenly. "She's over seventeen."

"What if Ginny wanted to join, huh? Then what would you be saying?"

"If she was over seventeen, I wouldn't have a choice."

"Bullshit, you'll sharp change your tune when she comes of age—"

"Shut up, Walt," snapped Lara. "And tell me what's going on! What am I not allowed to join? Bill?"

"The Order of the Phoenix," Bill responded, looking straight at her. Walter groaned and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "It's an organisation made by Dumbledore in the First War. They opposed You-Know-Who and fought his followers. It was disbanded when You-Know-Who was injured by Harry Potter, but Dumbledore restarted it again this summer, when he came back."

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Lara repeated dubiously. "Merlin…"

"You can't join." Walter said. "It's too dangerous."

Lara didn't even dignify that with a response. "So what do you do at the Order?" she asked Bill.

"All sorts," he shrugged. "At the minute, I'm gathering information on the goblins to try and decide where their loyalties are. And, apparently, getting into fights with supposed Death Eaters," he threw a look towards Walter here, and Lara blanched.

"You got into a fight with Death Eaters?"

"Walter's been helping me with the goblins, just to be an extra pair of ears around the bank, see if he can overhear anything," Bill sighed tiredly. "And we've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron, 'cause a source of Dumbledore's told him some of You-Know-Who's followers would be staying there. Anyway, dragon-boy over there decided to be a hero and followed some of them into Diagon Alley. Found them bullying a woman and took on all four on his own, until I ran after him. We just about managed to get out before we were killed."

"Oh, Walt," Lara sighed, both angry and proud of her brother.

Walter flapped his hand in the air, as he was already falling asleep against the wall. Bill heaved a sigh and grabbed Walter, hauling him over to the couch. After Lara covered him in a blanket, she turned to Bill. "I'm joining the Order," she said, ignoring the anxiety churning in her stomach. It's the right thing to do. "Can I tell other people or not?"

"Not yet," Bill replied. "We're still in the early days, trying to figure everything out. We're only asking people who we know we can trust, and we've known Walter here for…over ten years now—bloody hell, I'm old—and he's Charlie's best mate. We knew we could trust him."

Lara glanced over at her brother, who was now passed out among the cushions. "I'm going to give him an earful for not telling me about it."

"If it makes you feel any better, Charlie's been saying for weeks that he should bring you in on it."

"I knew I liked him."

Bill grinned at her in a knowing sort of way. "Yeah, Charlie said you have a…shall we say, affinity towards the family…particularly one of us…"

"I, eh…" Lara swallowed thickly, nervously licking her lips. "Well, I…"

"I'll see you later, Lara," Bill laughed before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing in a glow of green.

Lara sighed and settled onto the other couch, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep upstairs while Walter was down here, injured. Tonight, she'd make sure he was okay, but tomorrow, she was going to finish the day as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, whether Walter liked it or not.

most of you have probably guessed she would be joining the order but I hope you're looking forward to it anyway! It will be interesting for me too, looking at the Order from another angle other than Harry's...

i know i say it every chapter but thank you thank you thank you for all the support, especially with everything going on. it's been a wild year for everyone but maybe together we can find a way to get through it. I hope you're all feeling okay...and if not I hope you can find something to keep you going. even if it's watching tv shows and reading books like me. lets not be so hard on ourselves. just because lockdown is changing doesn't mean everything has to be done at once, you know? ease yourself back into it if you need to. don't feel guilty saying no or slow down. everyone has their own pace. nothing and nobody is worth making yourself feel unwell. be kind to yourselves.

while we're on the subject of feeling like crap, anybody affected by JK Rowling's recent mission to make things more difficult than they need to be at an already horrible time, I just want you to know it's a safe space here. also Black Lives matter, forever and always.

anyway. TED talk over. your reviews were wonderful and I hope to hear from you all again!