Ugh, right, okay, he had his books and though he sort of liked reading books, at least fictional ones that contained a lot of action scenes, he didn’t really read a whole lot in the past month, insisting he was tired of the ones he had on his shelves. “There’s only so many times you can read a book,” Elijah complained; he was more the type to want to write his own, and he enjoyed writing poetry the most, though he did try not to move his arm so much since his writing hand was the one the one attached to the arm that got burned, “See, that’s another reason why I should get to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. They have bookstores there and I could get better books to read.” Of course, he only had so much saved up since he started working for his father and uncle and he was hoping to use that for whatever expensive thing he decided to get Jessamine for Christmas.

Elijah really tried not to laugh too much because it hurt, but he was amused at his father’s reaction to his suggestion that his little brother would be playing Quidditch professionally; they all knew that he wasn’t super supportive of the idea, but he tried his best. He sighed, and as much as he wanted to roll his eyes at his father’s lecture, he managed to stop himself because he knew that he was being serious and Elijah knew that he ought to be taking it seriously too, even if it was boring and frustrating. “It’s not like I want to die, I’m not trying to get myself hurt again,” he tried to explain, softening up a bit when his father mentioned trying to trust him; he didn’t want his father to feel like he couldn’t, “It’s just… I hate having to put my life on hold. I have friends, hobbies, work, you know? I was really looking forward to doing stuff, especially now that I’m almost seventeen, and I can’t. I know you don’t get it because you’re old, but not being able to do anything fun just sucks.”