𝗠𝗼𝗿𝘃.

ㅤ The lamps in Katzenaugen dormitory burned low as evening settled. Morven changed into his uniform, straightened the cuffs, and checked his satchel. A notebook. A pen. Nothing more. ㅤ

⠀ Morven walked through the dim corridor, stones cold beneath his steps. The lanterns along the wall flickered, casting shadows that slid across his boots. He wore his robe properly this time, fastening the clasp near his collarbone and tightening the strap on his holster. ⠀

ㅤ Morven sat on the edge of his bed in the Katzenaugen dorm. The room was dim, lit only by a small yellow lamp on his desk. His notes from last week’s class were stacked neatly, corners aligned. He slid them into a black folder, checking once more that nothing was missing. ㅤ

ㅤ Morven stood in his Katzenaugen dorm room, where the lamps glowed low and steady against the quiet walls. On his desk lay a thin folder—notes about post-graduation paths, copies of aptitude charts, and the short list of careers he had marked for review. ㅤ

ㅤ Morven stood inside his Katzenaugen dorm room, where the lamps glowed softly like watchful eyes along the walls. The space was quiet, shadows stretching in thin lines across the floor. ㅤ

⠀ Morven let out a long, quiet breath — one that felt heavier than the books stacked on his desk. “If only time would wait,” he thought, though he knew perfectly well it never would, not for exams, not for nerves, and certainly not for him. ⠀

⠀ Q1. +6 Meter Posisi: 6 Meter ⠀ teapawt.net/ProfsMedici/status/198…

⠀ Morven stepped onto the field, the last amber light of the day slipping across the grass like a quiet tide. “So this is how the term ends,” he thought, tugging lightly at the edge of his Quidditch gear to settle it against his frame. ⠀

⠀ The corridor felt unnaturally quiet for a Saturday night, the kind of stillness that made every footstep sound like an unnecessary announcement. Morven adjusted the strap of his satchel, the edge of a quill poking at his ribs. ⠀