And under here, Hedwig”—Harry pulled open a door under the stairs—“is where I used to sleep; You never knew me then— Blimey, it’s small, I’d forgotten… .”
Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas, remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the underside of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before he had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had dogged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once—Uncle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had recounted it—a flying motorbike..
about me: [1/15] male characters
└ Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock.
There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.
Hope. It is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective. A lot of hope is dangerous. Spark is fine, as long as it’s contained.
but why do famous people get things for free if they’re the ones that can afford it
meeting someone with the same music taste is seriously the best thing ever