Have been running down buggering dead ends all damned day. The best that can be said is that it generated a veritable storm of informers wishing to report... every bloody thing you can think of: Snape-faced boggarts in the cupboard; their mother's lodger, who's got a scornful attitude and a habit of dropping French phrases into every other sentence; their neighbours' familiar which they've mistaken for an outlaw hiding in the shed or the cellar or the attic; the hermit who's lived forty years in a hovel in the woods, but they're sure it's really Snape. Or maybe it's Macnair. Or Black.
Dammit. Travers, again.
I'll let you know if we catch anything, but I shouldn't stay up expecting anything, if I were you.
no subject
I'm not.
Have been running down buggering dead ends all damned day. The best that can be said is that it generated a veritable storm of informers wishing to report... every bloody thing you can think of: Snape-faced boggarts in the cupboard; their mother's lodger, who's got a scornful attitude and a habit of dropping French phrases into every other sentence; their neighbours' familiar which they've mistaken for an outlaw hiding in the shed or the cellar or the attic; the hermit who's lived forty years in a hovel in the woods, but they're sure it's really Snape. Or maybe it's Macnair. Or Black.
Dammit. Travers, again.
I'll let you know if we catch anything, but I shouldn't stay up expecting anything, if I were you.