They helped her take a bath, and then they helped her get dressed. She wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on and though she wanted to protest, she didn’t. Instead, she pursed her lips, and stared at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the black robes that she covered her body. The kind of robes that she had imagined only witches like Narcissa Malfoy to wear, sophisticated and rich and yet, not poking anyone’s eye. A matching headband followed that secured her curls in place and she thought she could get used to that. The delicate work of the handmaidens to tame her wild curls. 