In a mist-shrouded peak on Donner Summit, little Clorinde stands at the edge, her gaze fixed on gathering storm clouds. Fog swirls around ankles as she surveys eerie landscape. Soft shadows dance across rugged terrain. The air is heavy with anticipation, electric tension building in response to approaching thunderstorm. Clorinde's robes billow behind her like a dark cloak, while her eyes burn with an inner fire, illuminated by the faint moonlight. The atmosphere is one of masterful mystery, as if the very fabric of Hogwarts looms large, shrouding all in its mystical aura.

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