“You can’t do it, can you?”And she hears, rather than sees him stop dead. The rough squeak of his shoes. She doesn’t turn to face him, even as she twists the knife.“You can’t conjure a Patronus.”
“You can’t do it, can you?”And she hears, rather than sees him stop dead. The rough squeak of his shoes. She doesn’t turn to face him, even as she twists the knife.“You can’t conjure a Patronus.”