Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
Staring at his cousin in disbelief, Trevor shook his head at her. "Pure is...wossat, pure," he stated again, falling onto the small empty space on the couch, clutching his mug tightly. "And traitors are are are traitors. If the mudbloods would know their place...there's no problem."