Track This Story: Feed
|Ch. #||Chapter Title||Word Count||Reviews|
In the better part of five minutes the argument was all but over, for that's the way we do things in Dormitory H12: hastily, badly and with rather dubious morals.
Let’s All Cry Over Spilt Milk
Lucifer salutes you kind sir.
Frosted Glass Bottle
But onward I marched, charging through the mud, armed with nothing but my authority as ‘co-captain’ and the chest of quidditch equipment that was hovering a few feet behind me.
JOIN HARRY POTTER FANFICTION
Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.Register Today!