❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓍 ❀

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❤︎ 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓪 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 ❤︎





The sun's radiant rays danced upon the stained glass of the grand window, casting a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors that momentarily blinded me. Its brilliance pierced through the depths of my thoughts, diverting my attention from the meticulous task at hand. Straining against the blinding light, I squinted, endeavoring to maintain focus on the diminutive figure before me, Professor Flitwick.

Today's lesson delved into the intricacies of theory, promising to segue into practical application in the forthcoming hours. Objects, animals, and eventually even individuals themselves would serve as vessels for our burgeoning proficiency, at least as per Flitwick's meticulously crafted syllabus.

The question hung in the air, pregnant with anticipation. "Who among you," inquired Professor Invisibillis, "can discern the distinction between the enchantment of Invisibillis Charm  and the illusory glamour of Disillusionment Charm?"

With the swiftness of a startled unicorn, Hermione's hand ascended, eager to share her scholarly insight. Yet, to my chagrin, the little professor's gaze bypassed her entirely, fixing unwaveringly upon my own countenance. A sigh escaped my lips as I straightened my posture, avoiding even a fleeting glance in Hermione's direction, aware of her arm still outstretched, a silent assertion of her unspoken wisdom.

"Miss Sinclair," Professor Flitwick beckoned, his voice carrying a weight of expectation.

Summoning a modicum of fortitude, I rose to the occasion. "The disillusionment charm," I began, my voice betraying a tinge of weariness, "bestows a shroud of camouflage upon its recipient. They assume the shape and hue of their surroundings, yet upon closer scrutiny, one may discern a faint semblance of their presence. In contrast, Invisibillis renders its subject wholly imperceptible, akin to the legendary invisibility cloak."

Elation ignited within Professor Flitwick, prompting him to applaud with childlike enthusiasm. Gryffindor was granted ten points, the embodiment of academic triumph. As the professor finally dismissed us for lunch, I gathered my belongings in silence, hastening to depart the classroom.

Through the meandering maze of dimly lit corridors, I embarked on my weary pilgrimage, each step propelling me further along the arduous path. The ethereal glow of flickering torches danced upon the cold stone walls, casting elongated shadows that mirrored the fatigue etched upon my visage. Like a solitary wanderer navigating an ancient labyrinth, I ascended the spiraling staircase, its steps worn by the footsteps of countless students before me.

The weight of sleepless nights bore down upon my weary frame, a burden that threatened to engulf my spirit in a shroud of desolation. Like an anchor, exhaustion threatened to drag me to the precipice of despair, its relentless grip tightening with each passing moment. The insidious tendrils of exhaustion wound their way through my every fiber, entangling my thoughts in a web of weariness. With each passing moment, the yawning chasm of despair loomed ever closer, its siren song beckoning me to surrender to its embrace.

In the winding embrace of labyrinthine corridors, I ventured forth, my footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls as I made my ascent up the majestic spiral staircase. Each step carried me closer to the hallowed sanctuary that awaited me—the haven of the common room.

As I emerged into the common room, its ethereal atmosphere bathed in the soft glow of the Monday sun, a tapestry of hues cascading through the lofty windows, I yearned for solace and respite. The vibrant palette of colors, dancing upon the walls and floor, seemed to beckon me to immerse myself in their radiance. Yet, even amidst this kaleidoscopic display, weariness persisted.

ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎWhere stories live. Discover now