Who: Walden Macnair and Athelstan Mulciber. Where: The Dungeons. When: Afternoon/Evening? What: Athelstan took something that doesn't belong to him, and Macnair would like it back, please.
Athelstan's vision swam as his head cracked sharply against the wall, the pain reverberating down his spine and making his toes curl. A whimper escaped his lips, followed quickly by a laugh.
"Why, Walden," he breathed, his voice a bit rough, "Fancy running into you here. Do you come here often?"
"Don't even think of starting," Macnair growled, sick of all the pathetic innuendo Mulciber spewed at him. His grip tightened on Mulciber's robes as he used his free hand to start searching the boy's pockets.
Athelstan let out a harsh laugh, the closest thing to a giggle that he was capable of, and twisted a bit.
"I can assure you," he said, waggling his brows, "That is not the snitch. Oh, do hurry won't you? I'm going to the Gryffindor common room after this, and I don't want to be late."
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"Why, Walden," he breathed, his voice a bit rough, "Fancy running into you here. Do you come here often?"
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"I can assure you," he said, waggling his brows, "That is not the snitch. Oh, do hurry won't you? I'm going to the Gryffindor common room after this, and I don't want to be late."
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