Well fuck, if Justin wasn't behaving like a thirteen-year-old girl. Wayne prayed silently that Ernie would just leave it. At least for now. Or at least stop bloody bringing it up.
"Maybe," Wayne continued morosely, remembering one of the scenes he'd read from Hamlet last night, "maybe it's darker than that. You know the saying, having skeletons in your closet?"
If he could help it, no one would ever meet his father and brother, or see where he lived. It was just too much. They'd see him completely differently.
"Maybe it's...like you're your own skeleton."
Holy fuck, what a downturn. They were supposed to be having fun!
"ANYWAY," Wayne said, signalling with his volume that they should turn the page, "Ginny mentioned something about kneazles when I saw her at the shop earlier today. Something about Care Of Magical Creatures? Were good times had by all? Did kneazle kittens cute anyone to death?"