ᅠ 𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙧é 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚 𝙆𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣. ᅠ

ᅠ ESSAY. ᅠ

ᅠ @ProfsHecate @ProfsEdenknight @ProfsYasmine @ProfsHyacinth @ProfsIsmene @ProfsThorne @ProfsAcosta @ProfsZhou @ProfsDupont @ProfsDunford ᅠ

ᅠ @AH_Scriptum (@MissAlveron) @AH_Wiseacres @AH_MMEShop @AH_MMRShop @AH_TokoSapu @AH_WandShop @AH_Apothe @AH_StMungo @AH_Dogweed (@MrSherlockes) ᅠ

ᅠ ❄️🦉Snow soars high over the castle, delivering Jacqueline’s letter to various places, on their respective’s tables. 💌: https://t.co/fIpb0eWo19 ᅠ

ᅠ Hello, how’s everyone doing? ᅠ

ᅠ @ProfsHecate @ProfsEdenknight @ProfsYasmine @ProfsHyacinth @ProfsIsmene @ProfsThorne @ProfsAcosta @ProfsZhou @ProfsDupont @ProfsDunford ᅠ

ᅠ @AH_Scriptum (@MissAlveron) @AH_Wiseacres @AH_MMEShop @AH_MMRShop @AH_TokoSapu @AH_WandShop @AH_Apothe @AH_StMungo @AH_Dogweed (@MrSherlockes) ᅠ

ᅠ ❄️🦉Snow soars high over the castle, delivering Jacqueline’s letter to various places, on their respective’s tables. 💌: https://t.co/CPWpf4QQwX ᅠ

ᅠ Fin. ᅠ

ᅠ After finishing so, Jacqueline packed her belongings. The sun was about to set, and she was a little tired. She then bid farewell, “Thank you so much, Professor! See you next term.” She said before leaving. ᅠ

ᅠ She moved back a few steps, looking for Professor Dupont. “I hope I’m not wrong, Professor, but I did it. Thank you for believing in me.” She said with a huge smile. She was relieved. ᅠ

ᅠ Jacqueline stepped back and admired her station. Clean tools, perfect slices, no mess, no lingering scraps. A soft pride bloomed in her chest. “Gotta be thankful to Professor Dupont’s motivation.” ᅠ

ᅠ She dried everything with the linen cloth and whispered, “Scourgify,” to finish the job properly. The tools gleamed. Finally, she transferred the unused slices of Shrivelfig into a small sealed container, cooling and protected from sunlight—exactly as instructed. ᅠ

ᅠ One by one, she cleaned the tools: Silver Knife, Cutting Board, Mortar and Pestle and The plate’s rim. Drops of water pattered softly against the stone floor of the ground. She didn’t forget to clean her own hands as well. “Gotta be clean, right?” She said to herself. ᅠ

ᅠ She didn’t dare leave them out too long—the magical pigment evaporated quickly, and the power would fade with it. With the fruit prepared, Jacqueline reached for the bowl of warm water. ᅠ

ᅠ She knew that uneven pieces would release the juice at different speeds, throwing off the magical heat balance in a potion. When she finished, she carefully slid each slice back onto the Porcelain Plate, arranging them so none overlapped. ᅠ

ᅠ A glistening, magical purple liquid shimmered along the blade’s edge. Jacqueline exhaled. Sweating a little, even in the cold weather. Maybe nervousness got ahead of her, maybe she was too excited. She continued slicing—each piece thin, symmetrical, neat. ᅠ

ᅠ She moved the Shrivelfig onto the Wooden Cutting Board, gripping the Silver Knife with deliberate precision. The goal: thin, even slices, less than one centimeter. Her first cut glided cleanly through the fruit. ᅠ

ᅠ She brushed the linen cloth lightly around the fruit. Perfect. No leftover skin. A single scrap could cause a dangerous reaction inside a cauldron—Professor Dupont’s warnings echoed in her mind. ᅠ

ᅠ It peeled away like fragile paper, revealing a smooth, glossy purple beneath. She worked from top to bottom, making sure no fleck of skin remained. The moment the knife slipped a little, she froze, heart pounding. “Careful… careful…” ᅠ