𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | H.P

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　DANGEROUS WOMAN !　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
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-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- chapter 4 -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
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Chapter 4: Preparations in the Penthouse

The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the sprawling penthouse as Lucinda Singh sat in her lavish bedroom, surrounded by a collection of luxurious items carefully laid out on her silken duvet. Tomorrow, she would leave for Hogwarts. Though it was her first time attending the prestigious school, she felt only a quiet thrill of anticipation, entirely unruffled by nerves. Her years at Circe Academy had taught her well, and she was prepared to bring the legacy of the Singhs to her new school.

Her room was an elegant space filled with opulence and charm—a blend of dark mahogany furniture, intricately carved with swirling patterns, and deep emerald velvet drapes that cast a calming, shadowed glow. The walls were decorated with framed tapestries depicting ancient magical scenes, and shelves lined with rare magical artifacts and books on subjects most witches and wizards would shy away from. At the center of the room was her bed, a grand four-poster with soft, charcoal-gray bedding and an array of velvet and lace pillows, while a crystal chandelier hung above, casting a delicate shimmer across the space.

As she prepared for tomorrow, Lucinda moved around her room, setting aside what she would need. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she picked up her leather jacket, soft and supple but sturdy, with faint silver embroidery on the cuffs—a small, subtle detail that made it uniquely hers. She paired it with lace black gloves, each one delicately patterned, adding an elegant but dangerous touch. Her black combat boots were another favorite, chosen for their edge and comfort. She'd wear these tomorrow, alongside a red crop top and a red skirt with an overlay of delicate black lace. To complete the look, she laid out black fishnet tights, enchanted to keep her warm and comfortable.

Lucinda's hands, with long, perfectly manicured nails, now painted a deep crimson, moved with quiet elegance as she selected the other essentials to pack. She glanced over her enchanted trunk, its deep compartments lined in velvet to keep her belongings secure. Each compartment expanded magically, able to hold her growing assortment of treasures. She opened the trunk's lid and began placing her belongings inside, section by section.

At the top, she arranged her new books. The titles alone hinted at the mysteries within: Advanced Magical Theory, Potions and Poisons, Dark Arts and Defense, and a new acquisition: Mastering the Elements, a thick, leather-bound tome that promised insights into harnessing the forces of nature. This last book was particularly dear to her; it contained spells for elemental control that she had only begun to explore, her ambition urging her to push the boundaries of her knowledge.

Alongside these, she placed an especially large, intricately-bound volume titled The Art of Psychic Energy and Illusions. This book was crucial, for it delved into the core of her powers—her gift of telekinesis, psychic energy manipulation, and illusion control. Lucinda brushed her fingers over the gilded cover, feeling a faint hum of power resonate beneath her touch. She would devote herself to studying it whenever she could, learning to strengthen her control over her psychic powers and illusions, and refine her ability to project visions, manipulate perception, and even influence minds.

Next, she tucked in her set of aesthetic outfits, each one a statement. Her mother had helped her pick pieces that suited her taste—outfits that blended dark elegance with an edge of mystery. There were high-waisted black skirts with silver clasps, flowing lace tops, and corset-inspired jackets with delicate lacing up the sides. She'd chosen pieces like these to ensure she looked as powerful as she felt. There were also fluffy, oversized coats in shades of emerald and black, each one enhanced with warming charms. Every piece was chosen with care, reflecting the blend of refinement and danger she embodied.

After packing her clothes, she moved to her enchanted vanity, set with vials of rare perfumes, each with a unique scent: one was rich and woody, another floral and mysterious. Small jars held powders that enhanced her natural features with a subtle, magical glow. Among them were small enchanted lip paints that deepened to the perfect shade of crimson when she wore them, and a silver compact mirror that, upon opening, would whisper compliments in a soft, feminine voice.

On the vanity was also her Firebolt broomstick, a recent gift from her father and enchanted with both beauty and power. The handle gleamed with her personal touches—a few delicate silver charms she'd attached, each representing something meaningful to her family legacy: a tiny serpent for cunning, a single raven feather for wisdom, and a crystal that shimmered faintly, representing power and grace. This Firebolt wasn't just a broom; it was a symbol of her dedication to excellence, her pride in her heritage, and her commitment to making her mark at Hogwarts.

As she packed, her gaze drifted to her companion, Nyx, her familiar and trusted confidante. Nyx, a striking, baby dragon with scales that shimmered in a deep shade of indigo and eyes that sparkled with intelligence, was lounging on her bed, watching her with an air of faint amusement. The bond between them was unspoken but powerful; they understood each other in a way that needed no words. Lucinda reached out to scratch Nyx under the chin, and he let out a soft, pleased rumble.

"Tomorrow is a new beginning, Nyx," she murmured, her voice quiet but resolute. "A new place, new faces—but the same power, the same legacy. Hogwarts has no idea what's coming."

Nyx let out a low purr in agreement, his gaze never wavering from hers. He seemed to sense the shift, the excitement humming in the air. She had raised him from the moment he hatched, and the loyalty and affection between them were as natural as breathing.

She turned back to her trunk, carefully placing a few more items inside. Among them was a silver pocket watch, engraved with her family's crest, which emitted a soft glow when held. There was also her black velvet journal, where she kept her deepest thoughts and magical theories. Inside were sketches, notes, and reflections on her own powers and observations of others. This journal was something she guarded fiercely; it held her secrets, her ambitions, and her dreams.

Lucinda also packed her wand—a striking piece from Ollivanders with a core of mermaid hair, chosen specifically for her. Its handle was etched with elegant swirls, and the wood gleamed with a dark, polished sheen. The wand hummed in her hand when she touched it, a perfect match for her and a reminder of her potential. She placed it carefully in her trunk, wrapped in a piece of silk to protect it during the journey.

Once everything was in place, Lucinda closed the trunk, and with a wave of her hand, it locked with a satisfying click. She stood back, surveying her room, her belongings packed and her outfit for the morning laid out neatly on her velvet armchair. Her mind was calm, focused. She could almost see the grandeur of Hogwarts already—the ancient halls, the whispers of its past, the challenges and triumphs that awaited her.

She gave Nyx one last gentle scratch, then crossed her room to her window, which overlooked the glittering lights of the city far below. She felt powerful, ready, and entirely in control. Tomorrow, she would step into Hogwarts, bringing with her the strength and legacy of the Singhs.

Hogwarts might be known for its history and secrets, but Lucinda knew she was bringing something different—something powerful and dangerous. She was about to step into a world where she would not only find her place but reshape it, one powerful spell at a time. And as the lights of the city sparkled below, Lucinda knew she was ready.