I'm not a girl, I'm a storm with skin

Here’s to the last midnight premiere, to outfits and wands, to tattoos and painted scars, to the late hours that passed with ease, to the yelled spells and stifled screams of excitement, to feelings of comradery and the shared understanding of strangers, to the boy under the cupboard and the man in Hagrid’s arms, to Jo, to me, to you, to the magic never ending.

Why are we all still here, a year later?

We never left. We never will.

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