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Harry stretched his legs out and felt the ripples of the lake against his bare skin, sending back ripples of goosebumps to match. Not all to do with the cold. It was good though. He should make sure he could manage water if he had to. Might have to fight in it one day.

A dark state of affairs."

Harry tensed as the voice came from behind him and spun, wand outstretched. There was a figure standing there, looking out over the water. He looked old, seventy maybe. Bald definitely, and not a hair in his little neat mustache was anything other than white. He looked like a retired teacher more than anything else, one of the old school ones. He even had the patched tweed jacket.

Oh god was that a pipe in his pocket?

This guy was a walking cliché? What was he going to do next? Offer me tea?