#daphodils (hannah)

[thirsttoprove]

@daphodils (Hannah)

It had been a great morning until an owl tapped it’s beak against Harry’s window and he was forced to set his cup of tea down before he had even managed to drink one drop of it. He had went over, let the owl in, took the letter, read it, read the letter again and then cursed under his breath.

It was his day off from training, which happened once in a blue moon, and yet here he was, socially obligated to fulfil the healer’s request to come and meet Gilderoy Lockhart in St Mungo’s. Did he want to see Lockhart? No. Did he worry that Lockhart mentioning Harry’s name, as the letter said, could lead to any unfortunate questions directed at him and Ron? Also no. The healers were just delighted that Lockhart seemed to start to remember something and Harry decided to be a good samaritan and left his tea standing where it was to get dressed.

Half an hour later he was at the reception of the hospital and drummed his fingers agains the counter. There was no one there and he checked his wristwatch. There ‘should’ be someone there, but he knew where Lockhart’s ward was located, he technically didn’t need to wait around here. 

He climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor, greeting people he met on the way.