𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖋𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖊 ⋆ hermione granger

CHAPTER THIRTY

          There's something eerily quiet and peaceful in this place. The walls are thick hedges, the floor is soft dirt (and Sage is barefoot) (her slippers came off on the run down to the pitch) (so it's nice to walk on something that isn't pine needles or stone) and the sky is black and starry above her. She's been running after Cedric, his yellow and black figure small in the distance, but then he turns a corner and disappears. Sage doesn't know where he's gone. She doesn't know where she is. Her wand is sitting up in Professor McGonagall's office. And, Merlin, she's terrified.

          "Hey, Dad," says Sage, writing a letter to her father aloud while she pads along. "It's been a while, huh? I wonder where you've been? Obviously very busy, too busy to tell anybody what you're up too. Me and Remus are very worried, and I think the aurors looking for you are probably a bit worried too. Um. Maybe you're working at a remote school, you've done that before, I suppose."

          There's a fork in the path. The left path has a glittering orange glow coming from the end, and little lights float in the air around it. The right path has gnarly tree roots sticking out of the ground and a heavy black fog floating in the air.

          "Well, you didn't raise me to be a dipshit," says Sage, then takes the left path. She follows the light, which turns out to be a raging fire that she couldn't hope to pass. "But it seems like I turned out to be one anyway. How would you get across this fire, Dad? Probably using wandless magic, because you're smart and awesome."

          So she sheds her coat and lays it over the fire, and quickly skips over the little pathway it made for her. The pretty yellow puffer coat incinerates almost immediately, and she pouts.

          "You bought me that jacket, Dad." Her feet continue along the dirt, her limbs quickly getting cold even though she's still wrapped in a cardigan and a t-shirt (Don't Feed Me After Midnight!). There's something in the air that's biting her skin. "Remember, down Oxford Street last summer? That was a nice day out. I bet we can have lots of nice days like that this summer. Maybe Remus will come? That would be nice too."

          She feels groggy. Her eyes hurt. She turns a corner, and there's a large mirror facing her. Her reflection beams back at her.

          "Hi, Sage," says the reflection. "How are you—? What are we doing in a maze?"

          "Oh, keep up," Sage whines. "We've followed Cedric in here to save him from getting killed. I'm sure he gets killed in here. You've been making me dream about it for months."

          "Oh," says Mirror Sage. "Well, I suppose your intentions are good. I think this mirror is supposed to enchant you, but you're immune to that because of me. Neat, huh?"

          "Yeah," says Sage. "Do you know where Cedric is?"

          Mirror Sage's eyes roll back into her head. "Erm, North-West of here. Take two left turns, three rights— no, one right. You'll want to avoid that nasty Sphinx. Then another left, then the middle of three pathways."

          "Okay," says Sage. "Thank you."

          Mirror Sage holds two fingers up to her forehead, and brings them down sharply. "Anything to help the body I'm infesting. If you die, I'm stuck drifting until a dumb muggle kid summons me. And I hate those motherfuckers."

          Sage nods and turns away from the mirror. The Morrigan watches her go with a sad smile on her face. She knows what's going to happen, a bringer of death, of course, but thousands of years have whittled this dark soul a little kinder, a little more understanding. So she lets Sage go without a word.