heydon’thaveanotthehouse,whihforawizardislikehavingtheirhandstiedbehindtheirbakasfarasommuniationgoes.“don’tknow.probablyshould.”andthenhewalkedaway,handsshoveddeepintohispokets,leavingdraotorunafterhim.

(draosneaksoutthedaytobuyanotherowl,thisinyandjetbk,andhasitsittingonthekithenounterwhenharryomeshome.he’dneverseenhimgetsohappysofast.)

chapter8

harry

seamus…hurtshimself.

itwasginnywhobrokethenewstothem,burstingthroughthedooroftheboys’lokerroomaftertrainingwithoutwaitingforoneofthemtoanswerherknok.ronwasalreadyyellingandhalfwaythroughsoldingher,butthentheybothsawherfaeandwhatevertheyweregoingtosaywasrepedbythatsikfeelinginyourstomahthatomeswhenyouknowyouwereabouttogetbadnews.

ginnywasrying.

harryhadrarelyseenherry,notsinedumbledore’sfuneralorthedayofbill’swedding.shehadn’treallyevenriedatgee’swedding,juststaredateveryonewithasetjawandafaefulloffury,butthistimeshehadaquiveringlipandtearsslippingsilentlydownherfae.

“what’swrong?”ronwasonhisfeetinamoment,armsheldoutlikehewastryingtohugher,butginnyjustshruggedhimoff.“whathappened?”

“it’sseamus.”shelethalfasoboutandthenswallowedtherest,turningtokikthelokerdoorsohardharrywassurprisedshedidn’tbreakanything.“he’satmungo’s.he…”