[Morally Gray Heroine + Across Time and Space + All Eras + Time Paradox + Unconventional Coming-of-Age]
In a word, no academy can define her.
This will be a long story. Thank you for staying with me.
Beneath the shadow of Hogwarts lies a secret spanning a century.
Lilith Green, a “Squib genius” toyed with by fate,
can draw perfect runes with a wand, yet cannot cast even a single Lumos;
she can understand every advanced magical theory, yet is mocked in Charms class as a “Squib genius.”
Her very existence seems to mock the magical world, and silently accuse it over the truth of her origins.
“When the augurey cries, the prisoner of time will tear causality apart.”
When she discovers the yellowed notebook in the orphanage, she thinks she has found a trace of her mother.
She will never know that
her mother’s body, turning to bone in the currents of time,
has the very quill she will one day use to write the ending embedded in its chest.
She stole the power of a god, only to become a sacrifice to time.
Then, one morning, Lilith writes on the last page of the notebook:
“Melina Gaunt died of a curse in 1900,”
but the ink transforms into her mother’s tender final words: “No, I died in 1959, on the eve of meeting you.”
I've only read a few chapters, but I'm deeply in love with this kind of plot and psychology written at the same time. The change of person pronouns is very flexible and does not seem abrupt. I feel that the heroine's psychological activities are the same as mine. And the author is also playing a boat game, right? We share the same burden.
Time is the cunningest prisoner, and I will find the key to the cage🗝
It is indeed very good-looking. Among the fanfictions I have read, it is one of the best. It gives me the feeling of reading a literary work. Yes, it is a literary work. In my eyes, this book deserves this title.
Time can be felt but cannot be controlled, but you can control who you are now. I love Lilith so much 😢😢😢
The painting style is gloomy and dark, with a delicate and gorgeous feeling, and the black mud is mournful. . 🤦