(no subject)
After dinner he walked around outside. He needed air and to get away from all the happiness that was radiating off of the other people inside. He stopped in front of a wreath that was made of balls. The colors varied and he was sure that it was one of Granger’s concoctions. As he stood there he heard the front door open and was hoping that it was Potter, but with his luck the way it has been he knew it couldn’t be him. He was right, it was Wood, standing there staring at him like he was a disease.