Cthulhu cabin, Alcove A1, Monday evening
Hermione's not quite in the mood to go visiting campfires right now, so instead she's sitting on her bed, reading today's (well, in June 1996 today) Daily Prophet and occasionally looking up at the chicken book thing perched on the wall between the alcoves. It's hanging over on her side just a little, trying to peck at the wall.
"If you fall, it's your own fault," Hermione says, and goes back to the paper. Not that she's glad for a little bit of Fandom normalcy or anything.
[Open if you want.]
"If you fall, it's your own fault," Hermione says, and goes back to the paper. Not that she's glad for a little bit of Fandom normalcy or anything.
[Open if you want.]