The last drabbles of May will peek in on Arabella Figg. Here’s the first hundred words for Arabella.
“The Pencil Box”
Arabella folded the last shirt, laying it neatly in her brother’s trunk.
“I’m going to miss you,” Barclay said, voice catching. “I wish you could come, too.”
“You won’t miss me long! You’ll make new friends, learn lots of new things. And it’s only a few months till the hols.”
Barclay rooted around in his trunk, disturbing Arabella’s neat packing, but she didn’t chide him for it. Only fifteen minutes younger than she, he was still her little brother.
“I want you to have this.”
“I couldn’t!” She’d always liked his rosewood pencil box.
“It’s all quills at Hogwarts now.”