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... ng against my face. The smell hit me first—sharp and ammonia-like. It wasn't quite piss, but it was close enough to make me question my life choices.

Scratch that; I already knew my life choices had been questionable. Now, apparently, someone had decided to suffocate me for them.

I tried to move, but my body, my old, brittle body, wasn't having any of it. My hands fumbled beneath the thin hospital sheets, weak and slow, grasping at the edges of whatever was smothering me. It was ...

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The most unlike Slytherin.

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