Golden Girl: The Missing Piece (2)

18- A Birdbath Turns My Vision Into a Horror Film

Despite who she was and what she'd been through, in fact, despite everything, Ember couldn't help but still be amazed at the wonderful things that the Wizarding World had to offer. After she'd woken up in the Medic's Wing, Headmistress Archibald had led Ember to her office. 

Mika, Indigo, and Addy, had all been sent to their common rooms, despite Ember's protests. Professor Blue had gone off somewhere else, but Ember wished she hadn't been left alone with Archibald. 

Now that she wasn't in danger of getting expelled, Ember could appreciate the beauty that was the Headmistress's office. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves took up half the room, not a single inch bare. To the left of the desk, a cushioned chair and coffee table were nestled into a half-cylinder of equally floor-to-ceiling windows. Ember could imagine cozying up there with a book, for hours on end. 

A replica of the night's sky took up the ceiling, but it was strange. The stars winked, clouds moved... it was like one could reach right through the ceiling and touch the empty sky above. 

"The idea came from Albus Dumbledore," Headmistress Archibald said, watching the girl gawk at the ceiling, "at Hogwarts school, in Europe, the ceiling above their main hall is designed to reflect the sky above. He was great friends with my predecessor, and I can now call him a friend myself."

"Another thing I inherited from my predecessor is this lovely contraption."

With a wave of her hand, the bookshelves behind her desk split in two like a double door. A secret room! Ember followed the Headmistress over to see what looked like a bathroom sink, or some sort of stone birdbath, spotted with age. Behind the birdbath was a massive shelf of tiny bottles, all filled to the brim with some sort of blue-ish liquid. Whatever they were, the Headmistress had quite the collection.

"What's up with the water?" Ember asked callously, gesturing at it. 

Silvery and swirling without any wind or fish, the water was mesmerizing. 

"This is a Pensieve," Archibald said, resting her hand atop the edge of the bowl, "it's primarily used as a host for one's memories. It can be used in a number of ways, but only one of which we'll be using today."

She turned to Ember, "It seems odd, what I'm going to ask of you, but it's necessary. If you would come over here."

Mostly out of curiosity, Ember came to stand opposite the Headmistress, putting her hands on the stone rim of the Pensieve. 

"Now, think of your vision, Ember, think of what happened and how you got there," Archibald instructed. 

Again, maybe she was just interested to see how this birdbath worked, but Ember did as the woman asked. She didn't want to be back in that dark room, and she didn't want to hear those screams again, but she thought about it. 

There was a wand tip at her temple. Archibald's wand. It drew something silvery-blue from Ember's head, the very action disturbing. It was the same shade as the liquid in the bottles behind them. Memories, Ember realized belatedly. The wizarding world was amazing. A place where you could capture memories in bottles and use broomsticks to fly. Maybe she'd never stop thinking such things were amazing. 

The Headmistress released the sliver of memory into the pool between them.

Archibald's blue eyes were unusually kind as she placed a hand on Ember's shoulder, "Take a deep breath, Ember."

Before she could ask why, the Headmistress pushed Ember's head down and into the water of the Pensieve. 

She was in that throne room again, Hades's room of darkness and skulls and death. But this time she wasn't alone with the god and his victim. Archibald stood next to her, looking far more solid than Ember had felt last time she was here. She looked to her left and saw a ghostly version of herself, the way it had been before.