A hush ripples through the students as their eyes land on the chalkboard— “Amortentia,” written in careful, sharp script. For a heartbeat, no one speaks—then, whispers bloom, soft and scandalized. The students crowd around, eyes bright as they read the words. The air itself seems to stir with something heady and dangerous. | “Potions: Amortentia” Rewrite.
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@KazuyaThe dungeon corridor was cold enough to raise goosebumps on bare arms as the sixth-year Potions class filed toward the heavy oak door. The air smelled of wet stone and something faintly metallic, like old blood.
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