[hr][hr][center][h3][b][color=Gold]Artemis “Arty” Harrington[/color][/b][/h3]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/363556781537886208/670658152244445184/Twin_Resize.jpg[/img][hr][hr]
[b][color=gold]Location:[/color][/b] Knight Bus: Middle Back
[b][color=gold]Magic:[/color][/b]Legilimency[/center][hr]

[color=gold]“Breathing is for blee―”[/color] Artie’s screaming cut off the rest of his half hearted retort as the Knight Bus lurched forward and sent Artie tumbling to the ground, unprepared for the sudden movement. A little warning would have been nice, a [i]please take your seats before we toss you around like a bunch of gits[/i], or literally anything but pain replaced the irritation as he broke his hand broke his fall awkwardly and shockwaves of pain ricchoched up his arm. Artie couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped him as he rolled off it quickly and brought it to his chest, a whimper escaping his clenched teeth when he brought his wrist carefully to his chest. He braved a glanced down at it and swallowed back a wave of nausea. It was… lumpy and bruised and twisted in a way he was pretty sure it shouldn’t be. This bus driver was a barking tosser. 

Artie carefully slumped back into his seat, little making groans of pain as the movement of the bus accidently jostled his wrist. He curled himself up as tightly as he could, staring miserably where his brother had abandoned him for some random people. Georgina saw someone die and her Uncle get cursed, Apollo got attacked and now Artie had this image of himself [i]dying[/i] in his head, Georgina was avoiding them, Apollo left them, and his wrist hurt so much. Artie was miserable and he felt his words getting stuck in his throat as everything overwhelmed him. He could feel the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, latching onto Mary’s concern. 

The connection was made without Artie even being aware of it, words not coming across it but brief flashes of memory and emotion. Death Eaters and cold terror. Georgina’s revelation and concern. Fear for Apollo curled in a ball, fear of the sleeping charm, fear of the memory removal. Hurt at Georgina avoiding him, them. His wrist in pain. Hurt at his brother not even checking on him. Frustration that the words won’t come out. Artie just sat there quietly, wishing the day would be over.