((After taking all the significant procedures, and with mod permission, I am unpopcorning Draco Malfoy. He'll have no prior knowledge of his time in Hogwarts Hocus; leaving him a fresh slate to be toyed with. He's taken right after the killing of Dumbledore in Half-Blood Prince.))
Hogwarts was ancient enough to have a pipe-work of catacombs
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'You're not on that planet, though, are you? So any claim of nobility is laughable. You're just as poor, just as worthless and as filthy as any Weasley, muggle or Mudblood.' Draco spat.
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The guy seemed to have anger coming off him in waves and no wonder. "Wow, who did this to you?" Sage asked, real sympathy entering her voice. "Was it that 'impedimentus' thing?"
((Ooc: if there's anything she should know about him, or any memories she should see, please let me know.))
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His mind blurred with the last events his mind could remember. His wand pointed at Dumbledore, his aunt Bellatrix encouraging him to finish what the Dark Lord asked of him and then Snape ... standing in to deliver the final blow because he was to weak to finish the Headmaster off himself.
Tears sprang to his eyes, burning and blending into the butter on his face. He cleared his throat, it felt like sandpaper. How long had he been ... incarcerated?
((Hey! Feel free to have Sage see that memory that took place atop the Astronomy Tower, if you'd like! :D))
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She turned away, because of the nakedness and licked her lips. "You need a towel first. I'll call for a house-elf." The feeling coming off him was intense and delicious, actually.
Ducking down the hallway, she was lucky to find a passing house-elf and sent it off for a towel and some clothes.
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Draco groaned and when the girl returned, looked up to meet her gaze. His voice was still weak, croaky and, though it staked him like daggers to hear it, a softness in his voice that was almost kind.
'Is this Hogwarts?'
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Being a cat, he had to do the cat thing. He pounced.
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'Get off me you feral creature!' Draco spat, he kicked his foot wildly, trying to dispel the diseased monstrosity. He was still spent after the attack on Turlough, not to mention his muscles were still taut from disuse. This bout of energy was not likely to last.
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Draco angled his foot, all rational thought evaporating in that split moment where he kicked his foot out, Bucky attached and all, against the wall. On the moment of contact his eyes bulged, his teeth clamping down on his lower lip, and a choice word burning red hot on the tip of his tongue.
He took in a loud, sharp breath.
((Mun approved.))
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"People are going to really start using better descriptions than 'blond male wearing black' when describing problematic idiots," I say.
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He finally gave Mello a reproachful stare, his stone grey eyes roaming his form, from his blond hair to his black clothes. His tone was scathing, even in its softness, when he said, 'I couldn't agree more.'
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((Edited.))
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He lounged next to a sad-looking suit of armor, half-silhouetted by a wide window, and watched the re-arrival be pompous, a little smile on his face. He didn't even attempt to not loom.
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"Protego. You move your arm too much; long, diaphonous sleeves don't lend well to being sneaky." He showed teeth now, tilting his head slightly. "What on earth makes you think I'm a half-breed, mortal?"
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