make me choose
↳ waltersskinner asked: potions or defence against the dark arts
At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals.
Touch my mouth and hold my tongue
I’ll never be your chosen one
I’ll be home safe and tucked away