It was Hermione. But she didn’t look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently somehow — or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back.
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#hp
adult emailing culture is overthinking how polite you sound and forgetting to send the attachments
me: i am INSPIRED i want to WRITE
my brain, immediately: i have never once even seen a sentence
i need to stop imagining scenarios in my head that have a -2% chance of actually happening it’s becoming a problem
i am an idiot sometimes but sometimes i am an idiot to be funny you know? for the joke. and i want people to know the difference. sometimes my actions are purposeful. sometimes i think. i want you to know that. even when i am just being a regular idiot i choose to say things knowing i am an idiot. i am the chooser of my own fate. i am the god of my own reality.
