Raistlin Majere ((unpopcorning, canon update))
A man in black robes staggered to his feet outside of the popcorn room, clearly disoriented. He snarled a word of magic, creating a thrumming wave of energy that surrounded him like a shield. Raistlin Majere, Master of the Tower of High Sorcery, had returned to Hogwarts. The mage looked down at his robes, jet black and normally of the softest fabric, trimmed in ornate silver runes now sodden with grease. He plucked at a sleeve with with an expression of disgust.
He was back. Raistlin tore his hood back and gave an inarticulate scream of rage. He had passed through Shoikan Grove unharmed and claimed the Tower of High Sorcery as his own, all of it’s secrets and magic were his. The spellbooks of Fistandantilius were his, he was learning the most powerful secrets of arcane magic. Yet the magic of this school had pulled him back against his will.
His spell components were ruined, but he could call on enough magic to burn the grease from his robes. Anyone passing by would see a cranky looking wizard standing in the hallway, smoking.
He was back. Raistlin tore his hood back and gave an inarticulate scream of rage. He had passed through Shoikan Grove unharmed and claimed the Tower of High Sorcery as his own, all of it’s secrets and magic were his. The spellbooks of Fistandantilius were his, he was learning the most powerful secrets of arcane magic. Yet the magic of this school had pulled him back against his will.
His spell components were ruined, but he could call on enough magic to burn the grease from his robes. Anyone passing by would see a cranky looking wizard standing in the hallway, smoking.