"Expose the inequality. End the struggle. Expose the inequality. End the strug-"

The chanting stopped abruptly, and somewhere between stinging hexes, Sam's eyelids flickered open. And then she immediately screwed them shut again as the fog of the trance cleared to reveal the bright stage lights. Blinded, why was she being blinded? She'd been in her dorm, reading a book on sociology on her bed...thinking about mirroring her boyfriend soon...taking notes, her quill stroking softly against her chin...

Not she had the chance to dwell on those thoughts, as the last stinging hex hit her cheek, and Sam became acutely aware of the burning sensation spreading across her skin. "OW!" she cried out, her eyes flashing open and a hand reaching up to tentatively touch the swollen skin. Talk about sensory overload. She bent down to steady herself, and it was only now, crouched down, and head in her hands, that she realised she was wet too.

What in Merlin's Beard?

There might have been some cussing under her breath at that point. Sorry Headmistress.

She rubbed her damp face on her sleeve, wincing as she caught the welt across her cheek, before taking a look around her. There were seats, students...was she on some sort of stage? She shuddered involuntarily at the thought. A performer for an audience, Sam was not. There was a reason she hadn't auditioned for the play.

Was this a dream? It was an extremely vivid one if it was.

Finally she found her voice...though it was quiet and clearly shaken. She looked up around her, her eyes falling on the Professors nearby. "Wh-w-wh-where am I?"