pimed out

keep your old and wasted words | a hp next gen mix

inspired by the wild youths rpon september first, they pile onto the train at kings cross, their trunks loaded with books and and leaking quills and robes with ink-splattered sleeves. they steal kisses in the courtyard and they hide bottles of vodka under their mattresses. they spend all day poring over parchment and all night dancing in the room of requirement. they have never known war, and they are determined to make sure they never will.

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