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Abigail Goodfellow

Beauty school dropout

26 posts in this topic

Grover relaxed under the touch. The slight pressure at his wrist was both reassuring and grounding; another reminder that there was someone in his corner. It was a type of support he’d never really had before. There were associates and accomplices, people who’d been happy to use him and be used in return, but Grover knew with absolute certainty that he’d made his first friends in a private compartment on the Hogwarts express… after lobbing half a shoe at Finch’s junk.


Ah, memories. Those had been confusing times, but simple. They were something to cling to now.


“I will, eventually,” Grover replied in reply to Abby’s suggestion, “Epona just… needs time,” time for a lot of things: time to adjust to a life without magic, time to process her new place in the world, time to let go of the training she’d never get to use, and maybe, if Grover was especially lucky, time to realize that her parents didn’t deserve her.


Grover loved his sister, but he couldn’t trust her in the Goodfellows’ home—one of the few safe spaces their father hadn’t ruined—until he was sure she was out from under his parents’ thumb.


“But enough of being melancholy, let’s focus on your hair for a second… or you know, I can just continue doing whatever and maybe, somehow, you won’t come out of this looking like a circus clown.”


She didn't.




Edited by Grover Penn

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