The dungeons had always felt more welcoming to Aslan than they should have considering Gryffindor Tower was as far away from these cool rooms as one could get (aside from the astronomy tower, but that was neither here nor there), but there was something about this part of the castle that made all the trouble worth it and that happened to be the potions lab.

It was a place that held many memories and at the moment, the brunette was besotted with one memory in particular. The day Daxton Prince had given her those silvery pale scars on her palms. They hadn't faded much, she guessed because of the effect of magically imbued glass on skin, but they were subtle and if you didn't know what to look for you might not have noticed them at all. often, the Gryffindor herself forgot they were there completely.

Today, however, they ached - courtesy of the abysmally cold, and rainy weather currently plaguing Scotland - and that ache, plus this room had arrested her mind and body for longer than was perhaps.... healthy. Aslan Evans stood before the cauldron workspace. body unmoving and dark eyes unseeing.