Now here you are all bedecked in jewels, standing in your palace looking down at a ball. Your smile, beautiful and radiant as you descend down the stairs. It's a different kind of magic, one only money can buy. But the champange warms you and you laugh all through the night. You stumble to your room, the almost-lady-of-the-house alone one more, but then you see him...

"What's the catch," I asked nervously. "Well now that you mention it," he said smiling. "How 'bout this: if you do well on the next exam, you have to go on a date with me?" The last part flying out of his mouth rather quickly as he whipped out his wand and cast a shield charm in front of him, awaiting my hex.

You walk down the stairs to see a man with somewhat shaggy brown hair speaking quietly with your mum. You accidentally step on the stair that's always creaked. He turns and it's him, his turquoise hair no where in sight. He whispers your name, but he might as well have screamed it as you stumble back and run up the stairs, back to your room.

It had no return address, only her name, Lily Ryann, boldly printed on the front in a harried scrawl. Lily opened it gingerly and withdrew a rather ancient looking piece of folded, seemingly blank looking parchment. She found a note: Tap the parchment and say: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. When you're done: Mischief managed. It's time he was beat at his own game.

This is a poem inspired by The Thirteen Reasons Why, it's about love and life and what it might drive us to do. It's the overthinking that pushes you over the edge. It's a messy mind and a broken heart on a train ride in the middle of the night.

He never could brew anything right, he was worse than Uncle Neville according to his dad. In class, they were brewing amortentia, James thought it was hogwash until it was his turn in the queue to take a sniff. He smelled the sweet scent of lavender and at the same time, the musky scent of leather. A curious combination, who would smell like lavender and leather? He asked himself