This isn't just a fanfiction, this is a letter.
This is a letter for all the girls that think they're sometimes too much for everyone, and for their mothers, who helped them feel like they are rotten work.
This is a letter to my mother.
I love you...
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"Ghostface mask? What the actual fuck" Blaise shouts.
Yeah, this is definitely a thing I'd come up with. Idiot me, I fucking forgot to take it off the list.
Buckbeak probably left. And that thought gets confirmed as soon as I see everything getting extremely dark.
"We are in another tunnel.." Hermione muttered. The only lights that worked are the little ones indulged in the bits of ceiling that was left.
"Lumos." The lights emitted from our wands, giving us little vision and illuminating our faces.
"Fuck-We are actually fucked." Ron panicked. "No. Let's just think-Who would be in the Ghostface mask? We need a plan. He or she can't take us all at once"
