((OOC: With permission from China mun - me.))
A man with long greasy black hair found himself in the Sorting Room. The great doors were closed behind him, and some feet away a lone desk with stationary upon it rested, undisturbed. He took measured steps forward, as if assessing the firmness of the stone, should the flagstones disappear from under
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She tried following the floating away of his eyes, but snapped back with a nervous smile when he focused back on her again. "Oh. Yeah. Uh... talking with dead people? Really? I don't think I know any dead people. Except for my Nana, and we never... I mean, she didn't like me when she was alive, so... what about, like, famous dead people? Could you talk to them? Do they ever say anything interesting?"
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"Does your Nana say anything interesting?" he queried, not in a hostile or rude way, but a generally sounding sincere sort of way.
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"Well, I mean, she doesn't say much now. Because she's dead. But, um, she always used to say things like, 'That shirt makes you look like a prostitute,' or 'You're going to die alone if you don't put that book down.'" Codex made a face. "Nana wasn't really a people person. But, um, yeah. Hogwarts. It's... here."
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"She sounds like a charming woman, man," he went for concealed sarcasm instead, "Hogwarts ... the name sound trippy man, y'know? But a cool trippy." He frowned for a moment and then chuckled loosely. "I never got you name, girlie?"
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