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noor

22:00 

the anti-heroine of an era of bathtub gin, organized crime, and jazz, clouded in the smoke of fired guns and cigarettes.
October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.

— J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

@темы: with serpents for arms the lovers are the hydra of the tale, in this town we call home everyone hail to the pumpkin song

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