Private to Harry
We will! Harry. Please, sweetheart, take a breath. When you pass out dead from obsessing over this, who am I supposed to marry, Ernie? You need. To relax. We will win, you are training us to bloody death--let us breathe, and you breathe, and we'll all be fine.
Please tell me that you're not obsessing over Quidditch to...ignore other things, right?
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