| lupercus @ 2004-01-04 20:17:00 |
| Current mood: |  tired |
| Current music: | Padfoot snoring. |
I am a constant satellite.
Well, with Harry gone back to school it's just myself and Sirius here at St Mungo's. We've been playing Exploding Snap for the last couple of hours, but poor old Padfoot finally passed out at the foot of my bed. At least he had the sense to transform before he did so, because there's nothing warmer than a big furry dog.
I've not been given permission to go home yet, thanks to my bloody leg, which means that after tomorrow - when Sirius goes back to the school to resume teaching - my days here will be lonely indeed. I certainly hope I am allowed to leave at some point, as I don't fancy being left here with only Lockhart for company. Did you know, your old Defence teacher is here? His realm is the Spell-Damage ward, and he seems to be enjoying himself. I have, however, had quite enough of his signing his autograph on everything in the room whenever he calls by, but he's so proud of knowing "joined-up writing" that I haven't the heart to run him off.
There's also the little matter of the waxing moon. I'm much better now and through some measures unknown they've managed to find and give me the Wolfsbane potion since I arrived, and so my transformation will be pleasant enough - at least physically. What I am not looking forward to is being locked up for it, for I know that they have not updated their werewolf facility here since I lived here. When I was about seven years old. It's little more than a cellar that's bewitched so that I cannot get out, with no windows and only one very thick, wooden door. It's quite spare, and dreadful, and if they don't let me out of here before Wednesday then I am in for a dismal sort of night. Bugger.
And now I've tired myself out, so I think I shall take a page from Sirius's book and get some sleep. Goodnight Hogwarts. I miss you all.
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