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Summary
"Coming of age, weren’t you?" they’d say, as if it were something to celebrate. For her, it only made life harder. She’d once thought finishing school would feel freeing. Maybe it was the endless stress of studying who stole all her time. Or her grueling potions master whose complaints were never ending.
But now, sitting with her NEWTs in her sweaty hands, one terrible thought filled her mind: him.
That awful man seemed to control her every thought, as if he’d tossed her brain into one of his dreadful, brutal potions he made. And yet, some foolish part of her wondered if he liked her. The idea made her sick. She hated it almost as much as she hated him.