insane-coffeemug

When he left his office with a goodbye wave for Ron and a handful of Floo Powder, it was with the full intention of shucking off his robes and going to bed. It had been a grueling week and he was tired. Week, he thought to himself. Try month, Harry. A grueling, exhausting month and now he had two weeks all to himself. When he felt something inside him shift, all thought of going home to his bed vanished and was Apparating to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Someone had set off the wards. They were silent trips, not designed to harm so much as to keep entrapped. Apparition became impossible, port keys would shut down, the floo literally folded i