 For Laila C.R.E.A.M | Haitian Sensation | Shark Patronus | Your Huckleberry | T's ClayBaby
The man had a sour expression on his face when he entered the reception area of the Daily Prophet-almost as though he were about to vomit. He was, and very clearly at that, quite disgusted by the state of things at his alma mater and he had a mind to say something about it...right here...right now...with his opinion piece submission.
Zohar Smith, as he was known to the locals, wasn't a writer by trade. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he wasn't a writer by trade today, but tomorrow, who knew what that held. Limits became constructs to be broken or set up when you were the oh so deadly mix of bored and intelligent. Zohar was an Arithmancer by degree, but a confidence man by force of nature. And when his plans to infiltrate the school back in 2065 died before they were born, he found it desirable to taunt the Divination appointment. Especially given that the current appointee was the result of the teachings of the one to whom he'd lost the position. Cassie. Morgan.
Charlatan.
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