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a Duck ty

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In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

by John McCrae

Thanks for visiting our garden x

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On his wrinkled grey skin, thin as a parchment, tears as thick as mushy peas roll down while Kreacher clutches Albus' sweater and repeats: "I am free!".
Ron clears his throat:"Albus gave you his sweater Kreacher but technically, it's Harry your Master and..." he jumps back while Kreacher opens wide his mouth, discovering pointy teeth as sharp as a razor. "Hey! Calm down! I was merdely joking!"

The little house elf turns to Harry and politely asks: "I AM free, am I?" Harry nods, thinking he should have freed him years ago.

"Good because now I can join Aberforth Dumbledore and who knows, maybe I'll see Dobby too!"