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September 10, 2012
Harry was worried. There was something wrong with the trees.

The leaves were turning the wrong colour. Where they had once been green like large grasshoppers perching on the branches, they were now dull yellow and brown.

No longer did they stand tall, soldiers on guard. Instead they were wilting and crumbling, falling away to the ground, giving up their grasp on life.

Harry was certain there was a conspiracy going on. Someone wanted those leaves to die. He wasn't sure who and he wasn't sure why. But someone wanted them gone. And he would find them.