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Harry, standing in the Virtual Potion Crafting Room, called in his assistant in his mind, Nigel, with a look of determination. "Nigel, please create a list of all materials. Then calculate how many experiments I have to conduct for each change, including manner of adding materials, preparations of materials, namely grinding, grating, cutting, throwing them whole, dusting, boiling time, simmering time, heat, stirring, for example clockwise, opposite, mixture, chaotic. There are ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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