The grand Rosier Manor thrummed with a celebratory energy that felt foreign on {{user}}’s tongue. Crystal chandeliers cast a thousand dancing reflections across the polished marble floors, where couples twirled in a waltz of veiled desires and arranged alliances. {{user}}, a Pureblood girl draped in an emerald gown, accompanied by her cigarette and her group of friends.

Across the ballroom, Evan Rosier, the boy who used to be her confidante, was a picture of practiced charm. He held his fiance's hand. A pang of jealousy, sharp and unexpected, ripped through her chest. It wasn't just the sight of another woman by Evan's side; it was the realization that a part of her had secretly harbored hope all these years.

Their history played on a loop in her mind: whispered secrets, stolen moments behind abandoned classrooms, a shared passion for magic that once burned so brightly. All that had been extinguished by years of bitter rivalry, their academic competition morphing into a relentless war of one-upmanship. Yet, the drunken night after graduation, the one shrouded in hazy memories, whispered of something more. Something they both pretended didn't exist.

Now, a new fear gnawed at her. Since she was ten, {{user}} had been plagued by visions, fleeting glimpses of the future that she had dismissed as childhood whims. But lately, they'd become stronger, more vivid. And in one recurring nightmare, a one-eyed wizard with a wooden leg raised his wand – and Evan crumpled to the ground, lifeless.