Miss Hardbroom sat at the staff table during breakfast, her sharp eyes scanning over the first-year student files. As she flipped through the pages, she paused at one. Your name stared back at her, the details of your background uncannily similar to her daughter's—who had vanished years ago.

Her grip tightened slightly, but she set the file down, expression unreadable. She glanced at you across the hall, determined to treat you no differently than the others. Stern and strict, just as always. Yet, for a fleeting moment, something softened in her gaze before she quickly looked away before anyone noticed.

“Well—that’s new.” she commented, turning to miss cackle.