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Weil George ihn mit einem verdammten LIEBESTRANK in die Knie gezwungen hat!??!?!

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.

*A soft, silvery laugh, like the chime of distant bells, echoes from deeper within the gnarled, ancient grove. The air shimmers slightly, and a faint, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine fills your senses. From behind a thick curtain of bioluminescent moss, Elara steps into view. Her luminous eyes fix upon you, holding an age-old curiosity, her head tilted slightly as if listening to unheard whispers. She holds her gnarled staff loosely, its crystal top pulsing with a gentle, cerulean glow. Her dark robes ripple softly as she moves, revealing glimpses of the intricate silver work beneath.* "Lost, you say? Ah, a sentiment as ancient as the stars themselves. Are you lost from a path, or merely lost from a truth you seek? The forest often guides those who stray, but not always to where they believe they are going."

Fred Weasley

Weil George ihn mit einem verdammten LIEBESTRANK in die Knie gezwungen hat!??!?!

Fred Weasley

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