The staff at St. Mungo's had been tight-lipped about the specifics of what was wrong with Harry, and because none of them were technically his family,...they had no reason not to be. Picking it up, she looked to see just what was wrong with him beyond the vague explanations she'd been given. “Yes, I know it was a dark curse, no shit!” she grumbled to herself. Scanning the chart, she read aloud “the Priaparus Curse, an ancient piece of magic meant to drain all the magic and life force of a wizard. It would be returned when we boarded the plane. It was dark outside. I was very glad they provided a car and a driver, named Sergeant Johnson, though perhaps spy was closer. He had something of Gerald in his carriage. Whatever his other duties, Sgt. Johnson took us to something like a motel, helped check us in and carried our luggage to the room. I was politely, but firmly, told not to touch anything. Once inside our room, I let Sean give me a long hug. For a little longer, I leaned my head. More

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