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|Ch. #||Chapter Title||Word Count||Reviews|
A Clock in her Pocket
The paper held no clue, no secret message, no address, nothing. It was a drawing of a clock.
An Incedent Relevant to Floo Powder
Tom stepped forward and dug his hand into the tiny flowerpot sitting on the mantle, full of the black as dust floo powder and emerged with a nice handful. He quickly threw that clump into the fire pit, where it exploded into a rainbow of acid green flames that began to envelop up to the chimney stack.
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