“And you’ve got yuir books?”
“Ma. Seriously.” Orlando MacFoozle tightened his grip on the trolley handle and rolled his eyes, a gesture which was not lost on his mother.
“Don’t act like I didn’t see that, young man.”
“A gat all me beuks, kay? A’ve gat iveryhott.” He looked at his mother, and her expression softened on him. It had been years since his dad died, but she still couldn’t help but see the resemblance. AsRhane MacFoozle was a highly skilled Auror, it was the best defensive weapon he had against her, probably the only. “Ye don have to cark, ma. Promise.”
“Wirrie?” His mother’s expression hardened a bit as she fell into her natural tongue. “GIf A git anither houlet from Proffessor Binns, ye’ll be hearing wirds from me, son. An thay winna be coming from Pogo...Read More