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Summary
Jane the Virgin Has Nothing on Me. Mostly.
James Sirius Potter, who I’m pretty sure I loathe now, came running in, “Monte. We need to talk. I made a mistake.”
He looks at me, and at Madam Pomfrey, who has pieced everything together rather quickly and let out a little sound of shock, not disappointed, just vaguely surprised.
“I’ll let you two, um, be.” She magics the curtain around us to shut. For good measure James raises his wand and does soundproofing as well.
“I know why you're sick.”
I nod, folding one leg under my body, the other one hanging over the bed, “I do too. Let’s compare notes.”
James looks confused, his arms folded in front of him, “I made a mistake with our potion.”
“I already knew that.”
“So you’re having side effects from the potion being- wait- you already knew that?”
“Yeah. Congrats. Daddy.”
Series
- Part 12 of letters from hedwig aka Harry Potter Works