The dungeons are damp and cold. My body is sticky with dirt and blood. Maybe it is a new form of torture or they just forget about me, I don’t know, but it works. I feel like I am losing my mind, I have nothing to do, I don’t have magic or anything to keep myself from remembering everything that happened from the second the bedroom was flooded in light and I was yanked out of bed. Each time I wake up I repeat all the ingredients to the potions we learned, after that I go through the instructions to brew them. When the potions are all finished I start on Herbology. Naming a plant or flower with each letter of the alphabet. Trying to not repeat any in the next round until I don’t know any names anymore. I swish my finger as if it is my wand to imitate the movements that belong to the learned spell. I always end with a lightning shape and the whisper of the Killing Curse on my lips. 