Chapter Eleven

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"I have become something wonderful, she thought. I have become something terrible. Was she now a goddess or a monster? Perhaps neither. Perhaps both."

━━ THE POPPY WAR


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•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Snowflakes fell in frosty discipline outside, as winter painted the landscape a canvas of scrupulous austerity in its order of white and black, ice and rock. The bare branches of trees were smothered by the suffocating coat of snow, freezing the heart of any life that dared to scavenge or titter. 

The castle starkly contrasted this bleak scene, adorned with twinkling lights, festive decorations, and a palpable air of anticipation. The Great Hall, with its enchanted ceiling mirrored the wintry night sky outside, sprinkled with shimmering stars and drifting snowflakes. Evergreen wreaths, ornamented with bewitching candles, lined the walls, infusing the air with the scent of pine.

Inside the Slytherin dormitory which resided, concealed but not privy from the festivities, under the frozen lake, Asha was helping Inkeri dress for the daunting occasion of Slughorn's Christmas party. Their puerile laughter could be heard even from behind the closed door, as they demonstrated uncaringly the tender gracelessness of youthful humour. 

The other girls, mercifully, were out, and only Adrielle was there to witness their idiotic troubles, as the girl sat on her bed, pretending to read but really just watching them, occasionally snickering inwardly. 

Asha was delicate and almost sisterly as she did Inkeri's hair with nimble fingers and a degree of expertise. "I do not know why you insist on braiding it so often," she said, mostly to herself. "It looks so beautiful down." 

"Really?" Inkeri said, rather surprised. "I never give my appearance much thought," she admitted. 

From the bed, Adrielle sneered. "Yes, and it's quite obvious," she remarked. Inkeri swivelled her head to glare at the cynic, who slowly looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow unapologetically. 

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