Work Text:
Sometimes, when it's one of those particular days, Casey wonders about misery.
When she was younger, not much more than a little girl, she would get sad. There's nothing inherently off with that of course, but the thing is, when she would get sad like that, people would try and cheer her up. That's when it became an issue. Others, Sirius usually, would come and ask her what was wrong, or if she wanted to play a game, and all she would ever do was shrug. Eventually, he would get bored and leave. It was only natural for him to do so, she supposes. She wasn't going to cheer up, so there wasn't much point in trying.
Now she's 16, and she still gets sad and evasive and detached every now and again. She's learned to hide it better. That way, no one will waste their time on it. She sits under the willow, nose buried in Edgar Allan Poe, pretending like she cares more about the words than the sounds around her.
Laughing. Shouting. The metal sounds of chess pieces. Rustling. Joy. She allows herself a glance up for a moment. James, Camille, and Sirius are playing piggy in the middle with James' tie. Sirius tosses it to Camille, and she waves it triumphantly in the air before levitating it just out of James' reach. "No fair Red!" He calls out, but he's laughing all the same. Remus is losing to Peter at wizard's chess, and they're talking rubbish magnificently. It's a beautiful Spring day; one of those with an air of Summer in the creases of sunlight. Casey wants to smile.
She doesn't have the energy.
She looks back to her book.