There came her sigh again, as if the air she blew out could carry her worries away upon it. The young witch was certain that her necklace was laced full of them as well, nerves and fear coating it like a layer of polish. Perhaps it was irony that she reached to burden the weight around her neck in order to lift her heart, but at least the motion carried her through Anne's withering riposte that stuck fast to Millie's affections for a certain Gryffindor.
"No one needs Potions," Millie said at once, when her tongue had seemed safe to speak again. It might have judged things too hastily, she quickly regretted the statement that seemed made too much in spite than in jest. Her collar still felt warm from thoughts of Ben, and Anne's quick work to drag him into their conversation. The young witch already knew her friend disapproved of her affections, if only her heart could obey the whims of shame as easily as her tongue did. She could not so easily dismiss her feelings as she could her words. "Truly, I would entirely believe if it were ever discovered that Potions were created purely to torment its students for seven years."
Millie would not, she knew in her heart, be taking Potions again after this year. No matter how her OWLs were returned, she couldn't bear the thought of another minute in that stuffy dungeon with its heady fumes and unsettling noises. She was convinced that Professor Valenduris bred the cockroaches that patrolled the corners of the rank classroom, infested with far more than just insects that might be harvested one day to become potion ingredients the next.
"Next term?! Anne, I can hardly keep on top of this term's classes." Millie's hands reach up, not to clutch at her necklace but at her nose instead, embracing it with prayer. She rubbed it once, and found it utterly unsatisfying. It was hardly proper, either, a young witch such as herself putting on such a dramatic show over her worries. She only needed to last until the end of this term, through her OWLs, and then perhaps propriety would be the only thing she need worry about.
"I don't know how I'm going to manage passing in every class. I can't think much more about the future right now." She let herself complain one last time, and then let down her hands onto the pages in front of her. A small chuckle turned at the back of her throat as Millie looked at them dourly, "I suppose I'd make a rather poor dark wizard to contest you someday, with all your advanced knowledge. On the other hand, I could be the witch growing those geraniums for you to mistreat so readily."
"No one needs Potions," Millie said at once, when her tongue had seemed safe to speak again. It might have judged things too hastily, she quickly regretted the statement that seemed made too much in spite than in jest. Her collar still felt warm from thoughts of Ben, and Anne's quick work to drag him into their conversation. The young witch already knew her friend disapproved of her affections, if only her heart could obey the whims of shame as easily as her tongue did. She could not so easily dismiss her feelings as she could her words. "Truly, I would entirely believe if it were ever discovered that Potions were created purely to torment its students for seven years."
Millie would not, she knew in her heart, be taking Potions again after this year. No matter how her OWLs were returned, she couldn't bear the thought of another minute in that stuffy dungeon with its heady fumes and unsettling noises. She was convinced that Professor Valenduris bred the cockroaches that patrolled the corners of the rank classroom, infested with far more than just insects that might be harvested one day to become potion ingredients the next.
"Next term?! Anne, I can hardly keep on top of this term's classes." Millie's hands reach up, not to clutch at her necklace but at her nose instead, embracing it with prayer. She rubbed it once, and found it utterly unsatisfying. It was hardly proper, either, a young witch such as herself putting on such a dramatic show over her worries. She only needed to last until the end of this term, through her OWLs, and then perhaps propriety would be the only thing she need worry about.
"I don't know how I'm going to manage passing in every class. I can't think much more about the future right now." She let herself complain one last time, and then let down her hands onto the pages in front of her. A small chuckle turned at the back of her throat as Millie looked at them dourly, "I suppose I'd make a rather poor dark wizard to contest you someday, with all your advanced knowledge. On the other hand, I could be the witch growing those geraniums for you to mistreat so readily."
![[Image: uHwnE8q.png]](https://i.imgur.com/uHwnE8q.png)