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Can my life get any more awkward?
This has got to be the best Weasley party that I have ever attended, for more reasons than one.
I once made his eyebrows disappear in sixth year, and instead of going to the Hospital Wing and getting them instantly re-grown, he walked around the school brow-less for some weeks.
I stoop down next to her, taking her hand and checking for a pulse.
Showing Bryce respect will be like reviving Dumbledore.
How am I to explain this one?
I raise my brow, feeling uneasy under her stare.
Her apprehension is written all over her face, and I know that she won’t feel completely happy about her news unless I seem thrilled.
Nothing can make me stop until she sees reason.
Knowing me, going through with what I think is an entirely different matter.
I honestly don’t know what to tell her, but saying nothing won’t help the already fragile situation.
It’s funny, really, how we’re both in love with people that we can’t have.
He’s looking somewhat triumphant, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever seen that look on his face.
It feels like my insides have been ripped out; that’s how empty I feel right then.
He stares at me for a full minute, doesn’t say one word, and then out of nowhere does something that startles me.
If I talk to this obvious figment of my imagination, will anyone notice?
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