I looked at my reflection in the hand-mirror and could tell it was my face, but it wasn't me. There was something missing, my eyes seemed flat and weary, like I had somehow burned out and given up ages ago. By my bed were copies of The Quibbler and Witch Weekly. One of them had me on the cover with the headline "GOLDEN GIRL NO MORE", and I didn't even have to guess who would be the author of the character assassination piece.