Moving back, he pounds his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Bloody hell. I can't remember what was on it, but I know it was something. I have to go back there, Fleur. I have to."
His head aches, though, and even as he says the words, he knows it's futile: nobody will let him back there. He doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting back to Saint Paul's, he knows that. There are too many people who'll want to protect him from whatever happened... or from himself.
And realistically and intrinsically he knows the first rule from the curse-breaker's bible: if you're bested on a site, you get no second chance. Someone else gets it; someone else takes the credit. Once you prove yourself a failure, you're branded that way for life.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-11-01 07:53 pm (UTC)His head aches, though, and even as he says the words, he knows it's futile: nobody will let him back there. He doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting back to Saint Paul's, he knows that. There are too many people who'll want to protect him from whatever happened... or from himself.
And realistically and intrinsically he knows the first rule from the curse-breaker's bible: if you're bested on a site, you get no second chance. Someone else gets it; someone else takes the credit. Once you prove yourself a failure, you're branded that way for life.