Camping:
No-one's got lumbago, I'm not spending my time brooding over the locations of hidden horcruxes, and there is a severe lack of spellbooks in my not-so-small and unfortunately entirely bead-less bag. And yet - for some reason that I would guess has rather a lot to do with my own over-active imagination - I am sitting under this spider-encrusted canvas contemplating my role in an immanent if non-existent wizard war. Music from outside permeates the country sounds like my very own silver doe. A patronus against the busy timetabling dementors of my brain. A shield against my inner Dolores Umbridge that "will have order"!
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