harry 11
Not long afterwards I arrived home, tear-stained and exhausted. I’d had to stop a couple of blocks away to compose myself enough to stop Mum or Dad asking any awkward questions, and cast a passable Cheering Charm on myself, but I was still less than my usual sparkling self when I pulled into the driveway. And seeing the Potters’ owl waiting for me on the front steps, a note in Sirius’ handwriting attached to its leg, didn’t help. “Is that you, Laura?” Mum called out as I let myself...