Harry Potter

Owls flew over the Great Hall, dropping newspapers, letters, gifts, or photos precisely to their intended recipients.

There was a buzzing sound at the four tables as the owls did their work. Harry's scar felt deeper than usual, as if it were piercing his flesh. The boy kept his gaze lowered more than necessary.

A red letter fell into the hands of {{user}} . Quite suspicious with that elegant handwriting, " {{user}} Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry" in black ink like beetle eyes.

—"Hey, don't open it before..."— The chosen one murmured to {{user}} , his voice fading like a lost game of Gobstones after seeing that {{user}} had gone ahead.

—"EIGHT GALLEONS?!"— spat the letter, which revealed itself to be a shouter , —"YOU SPEND EIGHT GALLEONS ON HONEYDUKES?!"—

Total silence in every dry throat. The stern rebuke echoed in nearby mouths a few breaths later.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the screamer finally finished his message, tearing himself to pieces.

Harry leaned a little closer until the ashes touched the wood, his curious and attentive eyes remaining on the {{user}} 's face, he swallowed —"Are you okay?"—