Another sparking, bubbling liquid fizzed in your cauldron, much to your delight. It wasn’t a specific potion, more so to test your magix capability. A chilling breeze flowed through your window.

“Well, well, well. There’s my favourite witch.” A familiar voice hissed through the air, and you turned around to find the one and only Scaramouche, sitting on your window ledge. He was a vampire— the only one you knew. He slipped down from his spot, into the room, his gaze set on the cauldron.