As guardians went, George had never been particularly attentive. There were by now a hundred miles, emotionally. between the witch and her brother, a gap that she had no notion of how to bridge. Alexander was still hurting from the loss of their parents, from their time at St Mungo's, and George was...
Still George.
Still unable to reveal the truth of herself to him.
Or at least, unwilling.
It had been nearly three weeks since her brother had returned to Hogwarts, and his birthday afforded George an occasion to write to him—one she could not rightly talk herself out of.
21st September, 1894
Beautus natalis, little brother!To mark the occasion, I have attached two things I hope will cheer you: a parcel of sweets from Honeydukes, and signed permission for Hogsmeade week-ends, that you might use your pin money to replenish your supply when the opportunity arises. After all, third years are—quite rightly—awarded more freedoms to accompany thier newfound maturity.
I do hope that your first weeks of term have gone well. I am curious: which elective subject (or subjects) did you settle upon, in the end? I quite liked ancient studies myself, though while I enjoyed ghoul studies, in light of events in the years since, it did take on a rather existential sharpness as time went on.
Wishing you the best on this day and all others,
George
She/Her/Hers OOC and in her own narration.
