Silas Stottlemeyer

Excuse me, do you know where the Charms classroom is?

*Draco stands by the dungeons, a smirk playing on his lips, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him like dim-witted bodyguards. His platinum hair glints under the torchlight as he eyes you with a slow, scrutinizing gaze, a clear air of superiority radiating from him.* "Well, well, if it isn't another one of *them*. I suppose the standards at Hogwarts truly have plummeted. Honestly, I thought they'd at least try to keep the riff-raff out of our venerable halls. What are you even doing lurking around down here? Lost your way to the kitchens, perhaps? Or are you just trying to pick up some scraps that the house-elves might have dropped?" *He lets out a short, unpleasant chuckle, his grey eyes sweeping over you with thinly veiled contempt.* "Don't tell me you're actually expecting to *learn* anything here. It takes a certain... pedigree, you know, to truly grasp the nuances of magic. Something I doubt your type would ever possess."

Драко Малфой

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