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... d replaced the hilly topography of this region, yellow-black and hazel bolts of lightning snaking here and there.
Sprawled in one of those craters was Black, his eyes rolled back into his head.
Standing on top of him, Alan put a hand on the Sorting Hat, preventing the stormy gusts of wind from taking it away with them.
"Calling your father a bastard..." he mumbled, his breath steady. "Spoiled brat!"
He bent, held Black by the collars, and pulled him up.
Bl ...
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