the usual view of the grounds was covered with thick spider webs and there were definitely less owls than there usually were. If Bruce had been an optimist he'd have hoped they sensed danger and ran away before being eaten. But what was with the bull? He wasn't expecting the tables to be turned so quickly. To share a happy memory of his mother was to share a desperately unhappy memory of his father and that seemed complicated and messier than the werewolf thing. The two of them had just spent a good deal of time working together and both of them had saved eachother's life. He sighed and rolled up his right sleeve and exposed there large scars that clearly sent further up the arm.
"You probably don't remember but when we were third years I got back later than everyone else..."