Harry stared at her potion, and her potion stared back. The golden liquid frothed and bubbled serenely under the stasis charm.
It was wrong. Whatever she did, whatever she tried, it. Did. Not. Work.
Harry wanted to cry.
She knew Felix Felicis was incredibly difficult, but potions were what she did best, and she needed this bit of reassurance in her pocket, an ace up her sleeve, for when Riddle, the Ministry, hell, her friends, tracked her down and stripped away her lies-
Harry wrenched back her focus when she felt tears dripping down her cheeks. Dom sighed in her head. Kid, it’ll wait another day. Get some rest.
She stared at the potion, and the potion stared back, and suddenly Harry couldn’t take it anymore.
…okay.