faded

til human voice wakes us, and we drown. Elena Cram. Slytherin. Just breathe.

[elenacram-blog]

asknewradicals:

“I can make my own friends, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

And I’m certain no one would reply to such a snotty, little girl, so it works out fine.

Loosen up, sweet child.

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“That’s my girl.”

Is that my boy?

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“What if he has a mole on his lip?”

“Or a bad moustache?”

Then, as father would say, we curse him all to hell. With our words, at least.

[elenacram-blog]

asknewradicals:

“Your what?”

You send an owl out to someone you’ve never met before and then you write back and forth to one another for as long as you want. The Daily Prophet runs a program. You can sign up for it for only a galleon. I’m not sponsored, by the way. But maybe I should be.

[elenacram-blog]

nextgenwriterofworlds:

“Someone I know?” 

Not this time.

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“Oh, hun –”

I’m lying, mum. I’ve learned from those mistakes.

I like the mystery of not knowing yet.

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“Did you not get pictures first?”

Of the important parts.

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“Only if he’s hot.”

And if he’s not, I’m cursing him into obliteration. Maybe.

[elenacram-blog]

miss-shafiq:

“They can sit somewhere else.”

Will you be a doll and scoot if they’re hot?

His name may be George, but he swears he has a six pack. I met him through Wizards Meet.

[elenacram-blog]

asknewradicals:

“Can’t. I’m meeting someone, too.”

Are you my penpal? There’s no way.

[elenacram-blog]

asknewradicals:

“Oh, I know it will. These things usually do.”

I knew I sensed something odd when I woke up this morning. I was predicting myself dying of boredom. Do you not care for me at all, Frances?

[elenacram-blog]

I was meeting someone, but sit.

[elenacram-blog]

asknewradicals:

“I, personally, think the meeting will be a vote to appeal it, but— Well, that’s just me.”

Do you also think it will drag on longer than an hour?

[dongwookss]