“Then I’ll give you something else,” Magnus said decisively. “Water, with something more magical than mere fortified wine. How about you, Will?” “Certainly,” said Will, and James thought he still sounded lost in thought. “Bring on the potions.” That night James slept like the dead, and if his father rose in the middle of the night to check on him as if he were a small boy, if Will sat beside him on his bed and sang to him in rusty Welsh, James did not remember it when he woke up.
Will is such a good dad brb crying
