lvii. the true story

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˚ · • ꗃ 𓈈 " chapter 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚-𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏" 𓂃 ! ⊹˚˖⁺  

  ▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆  ˚ · • ꗃ 𓈈 " chapter 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚-𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏" 𓂃 ! ⊹˚˖⁺  

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𝐕𝐎𝐋. 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ━ 𝕹𝗼𝘁 𝕬 𝕲𝗼𝗱'𝘀 𝕮𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 °. ୭̥❁.*
━━ ❪ 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙿𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 ❫ . ˚
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     𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. Hermione was not the only person eagerly awaiting her daily prophet: nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many reported sightings, had still not been caught. She gave the delivery owl a knut and unfolded the newspaper eagerly while Alena helped herself to some juice, when the first owl landed with a thud in front of Harry.

     "Who're you after?" he asked it, languidly removing his own orange juice from underneath its beak and leaning forward to see the recipient's name and address:

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋
𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

     Frowning, he made to take the letter from the owl, but before he could do so, three, four, five more owls had fluttered down beside it and were jockeying for position, treading in the butter, knocking over the salt, and each attempting to give him their letters first.

     "What's going on?" Ron asked in amazement, as the whole of Gryffindor table leaned forward to watch as another seven owls landed amongst the first ones, screeching, hooting, and flapping their wings.

     "This is the most interesting thing to happen here since──well, christmas," said Alena amusedly, watching the owls battle it out.

     "Not valentine's day?" said Harry in mock hurt.

     "You mean the day I had you trailing after me? I guess, love," said Alena, smugly.

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