I stepped into my bathroom and looked at the mirror. The image I saw was different from what I used to look like. Sure, as far as Hermione went, I looked as I did before. Tired, but still the same. But I didn’t have my straight black hair or the slightly more angular face. Though that might be due to the image in my head when I was older rather than a, technically, seventeen year old girl. Switching to a different memory, melded the image of Hermione and a younger Morgana. There were some differences, such as my hair. One you would expect from over nine hundred years of genetics. The only feature that was the same were my eyes. 