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Dear James,

I went to St. Mungo's again.

I hate going there. The smell is so stinging. Everyone there is so depressed. Seeing them sad makes me want to hug them all. Why do people have to suffer like that?

I hate that place.

I never want to go back.

Every time I go back there, all I get it bad news. Why do I even bother going back? I already know what they'll say.

And then they'll tell me that their sorry.

But they don't even know me.

Love,
Sabrina
(p.s. Sorry, I needed to rant.)

DEAR JAMES | james potterحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن