DISORDER JOURNALS

I give it a month before Potter turns up dead.

[ DEATH EATERS ]

We've combed over Grimmauld Place three times and there's nothing here besides dust, dead puffskeins, and a screaming portrait of Walburga Black. There's no telling where Potter and his mudblood accomplice went.

I swear Tuesday drink deals will be the death of me.

DEATH EATERS.

I strung up Wadcock up in centre keeper's hoop with a sign that says 'This is our year' owing to our victories, and also the Cannons are ass.