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Summary
Sana was used to chasing, whether it be Quaffles, shots of firewhiskey, or a certain Ravenclaw Prefect.
The former were no issue; it was the latter where Sana always seemed to fumble.
When her usual plays come crashing down in flames, Sana draws up a new strategy. If her 200 galleon perfume and disarming smile wouldn’t work, maybe it was time to employ some liquid intervention.