‘No,’ she chided, ‘the last time you made me that much shit, I couldn’t finish it all, remember?’ She then sighed, ‘I felt bad… I mean, ...ou cook really good.’ ‘Really?’ Something struck her as cute, it was like a gangly five year old had replaced the thirty-something pot-bellied man who stood before her now. She almost wanted to hug him. ‘Really,’ she assured him. ‘Two eggs, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast.’ Michael repeated, as he reached into his clunky old refrigerator. He. He had a nicely shaped head, the top of which curved inward and back up into the ridge at the base of the head in a way that made it look stylish. The rim of the head met the smooth skin of his cock on the bottom just under the head, and there. extending down the length of the bottom of his cock, where he had so often imagined Cho’s tongue running slowly, was a vein in the shape of a lightening bolt. The scar was more famous, but this was Harry’s favorite mark left by the curse that night in. More

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