I like Saturday mornings. I especially like them after I've been drinking and it's brisk outside. I love laying in bed, curtains closed around me in my four poster canopy, breathing almost stale air. It's not dignified, but there's a sense of peace, of freedom in this. It's one of the only times I feel like I can let my guard down. Even back before the war. I didn't have to be anybody, I could lay there and forget about everything outside. Everything.I do let my thoughts drift to her, I wonder if she likes laying in silence too, I wonder if its peaceful for her when she's lucid, just to rest. I know sleep for her is hard but does being awake in the quiet morning feel good for her? I know so little about her. I wish there was an easier way to communicate with her than this strenuous dream magic she's doing. It must be draining for her.In Muggle Studies this week we learned about cell phones. I wondered if she knew how to use one. I would assume so. Should I learn how to use one? Maybe that way we could "text'. No that wouldn't work on the grounds. Maybe outside of here though, once this year is over, maybe this trauma bond will join us for a while, maybe she'll want to talk about everything with the person who was in the room with her. Who else could really give her a space to express those thoughts? Surely not Potter or Weasley or any of her old circle. Plus she asked me to stay. She asked ME to stay with her. Stay with her. I wonder if she'll still want this once she wakes up this morning. I don't want to consider the alternative. I want her to mean what she said.