From the very first day that she was installed in the attic bedroom in Antonin's house, they had had an odd relationship. He was her teacher, the wizard tasked with reprogramming her with a more suitable way of thinking and acting. She had to admit that he had been successful. Every time she thought about the first two days when she stayed in the same spot only inches away from a table full of food awaiting his permission to approach it, she felt ashamed by how she'd allowed her brain to be molded. Her greatest fear, after complete and utter failure, of course, had been the loss of her mind. She didn't want to imagine a possibility that she would ever be less in her mental capabilities. As much as she was able to compartmentalize her concerns when it suited her, she knew that she hadn't been operating at full capacity for quite a while. Maybe even since before she was thrown inside that broom cupboard in Hogwarts.