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Chapter 32: Flickering Lights
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Chapter 34: Wakey-Wakey
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... l. Smoke curled from its still‑warm carcass, the smell of singed fur clawing at their nostrils.
Adrian Greyford’s grin of triumph dissolved as he stared at his wand.
"I... I can’t conjure another," he panted, shoulders slumping. "That was it."
A ripple of alarm ran through the senior line. The ridiculous peacock is spent.
Behind him, freckled Elaine Holcomb bit her lip; Peter Nott’s knuckles whitened on the haft of his wand; Ava Derek exchanged a terrified glance ...
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