Sister Mary, who had only just gotten over her murderous impulse (thankfully that nice red-headed woman had left before Sister Mary had lost her temper) to make Agnes Nutter more dead, jumped up and headed back into the bar.

"Ice, ice, ice, ice..." she muttered, as if it was some sort of mantra.

What the bloody hell had that crazy ghost really meant? And why was that boy so frightened? These and other thoughts were swarming in her mind. Were there really wounded people on their way to the Hospital Wing right now?

Sister Mary filled up a large bucket with ice. She wondered where her bartender and her new massuese were. She had a feeling that whoever was hurt was going to need more than an old ghost's efforts.

"Severus Snape?" she called.

"Raphael?" There was no answer.

"Mr. P?" What was her new masseuse's name again?

As she lugged the heavy bucket of ice out of the bar, she hoped that one of her new employees might already be at the hospital wing. Then she ran off towards the wing herself, mumbling curse words the entire way.


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Angels and demons / most people wouldn't believe / how great the sex is.

July 2019

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