Standing there as still as a statue with the fragments of his window scattered around him, the cold wind from outside tickling his weathered face, the day's events felt like a mockery of his ill-luck. Pulling out his seasoned wand, he cautiously examined himself, entertaining a lingering sense of foreboding. He almost felt like this must be a curse.
I'm just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, nothing more.
Book&Literature · _Riux
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