Breakfast - open thread?
Dean was at the Gryffindor table, a large bowl of porridge sitting in front of him, only mostly forgotten. In his hands he held the Daily Prophet, and he was reading the article on Harry, a look of bewilderment across his face.
"This is nuts," he shook his head. Though he knew of Harry's sexuality, it had never caused anything like the article described. "Bloody rubbish."
The Gryffindor crumpled the page up and tossed it down the table. "Don't bother," he half-shouted to the person sitting where it landed, "just a load of crock."
"This is nuts," he shook his head. Though he knew of Harry's sexuality, it had never caused anything like the article described. "Bloody rubbish."
The Gryffindor crumpled the page up and tossed it down the table. "Don't bother," he half-shouted to the person sitting where it landed, "just a load of crock."