Sophia Sage Laurent is celebrating her fourteenth birthday in style. And by that, she means she's prettying herself up with a bit of lipstick she stole from her aunt Flick, some of Lavender's shocking red blush, and her prettiest winter coat. And by that, she means the coat that makes her look the least like the marshmallow dude from Arielle's favourite movie.
"Oh, Sage, darling!" Ripley cries out when she sees Sage, launching herself from the end of the Ravenclaw table to fling herself on top of the girl. Stevie is soon to join them, giving Sage's arm a squeeze and a small smile. "You're looking all pretty. Got a date or something?"
Sage turns red and goes, "what- I- no- date?-"
"I'm only teasing," cackles Ripley. "I know you'd never have a date. Even if today is a Hogsmeade day."
Stevie looks like her heart's dropping down into her stomach. "Today's a Hogsmeade day?"
"Merlin, I'm beginning to think everybody's got a date except me," Ripley grumbles. "And you, Sage, you little nun."
(see: Ripley breaking up with Pedro after a rather deplorable series of events on his behalf)
Sage is bored of the conversation, so she fills a bowl with cereal and milk, and turns to her friends.
She says, "I'm going to write a letter to Dad."
Then she leaves, cereal in one hand, newspaper in the other.
"Happy birthday Sage," she hears Stevie call after her.
"Today's her birthday?" she hears Ripley add on.
Sage is so sick of her dad doing things that surprise her. Like, she really does like surprises. But she doesn't like it when he and Flick talk about things that don't involve her, so in turn she doesn't like surprises from them. But this one is okay. This one is fine.
On her bed her dormitory is a pile of presents. She grins and puts down her bowl, folds her newspaper, and tucks one leg underneath her as she sits down.
"I was hoping you knew I was lying when I said I didn't want presents," she reads aloud from the parchment on top of the pile, and then starts to sort through the small pile of presents (the one with glittery yellow paper is from Flick. It's a set of cosmetics she's gotten for her from the States) (the one with really shitty wrapping skills is from Billy, who broke up with Ari a few years ago but still sends presents every birthday and Christmas) (it's one of those gorgeous leather journals she's been looking at in shop windows for years) And then the one from Dad. She slides a finger under the sellotaped edge and slowly prises off the paper.
"Holy macaroni," Sage says.
It's this really pretty watch-thing. It's not really a watch. It's not really pretty. But it's sort of cool and weird and a little bit scary, so it's everything Sage aspires to be. She slips it onto her wrist and it buckles itself up. It's a bit too big, so she charms the strap to fit her.
It was mine when I was your age, the letter from her dad explains. My dad left it for me, so now I'm giving it to you
"Neat," says Sage. "Vintage."
She imagines that her dad would laugh and scruff her hair, and Flick would shake her head in amusement and smooth her hair back down.
Then she gets up, grinning, and decides to go to Hogsmeade by herself, because her friends suck and she wants to have a good day.
So, it's all going great. Sage went to a dodgy looking tavern and made friends with the barkeep, who looked familiar to her but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She pulled faces at the couples in that gross tea shop, raided the sweet shop, and met a couple in the Three Broomsticks that had just come back from Chicago. And, as she's finishing her day by walking back up to the castle, Sage is jostled out of the way by an invisible force. The grin on her face is smacked off, and she stares at the footsteps appearing in the snow with no boots visible to produce them. And her dad's told her stories of footprints appearing in the snow. And he's told her who used to own the thing that allowed them to happen. And Sage is sure she knows who has the thing now.
She dashes after it, Conner gliding in the air behind her, trying to keep her eyes on the floor to follow the steps. She spots Hermione and Ron in the distance, running the same way but fifty feet ahead, so she follows them while trying to keep her scarf from unravelling in the wind. She jams her beanie back over her hair and skids to a stop outside of Honeydukes.
"Where's Harry?" Sage pants, clutching at her stomach. She's practically boiling to death underneath her winter coat and she's half tempted to take it off and bury herself in the snow.
"Wh- up at the castle," Hermione says quickly. "Why would he be down here? Are you hallucinating, Sage?"
"Don't be all smart," Sage snaps. "I saw his footprints. Where is he?"
"Went back up to the castle," Ron explains, ignoring Hermione's puffed rebuttals. "He found some- we overhead something really horrible. He's really upset."
Sage frowns. "What was it? Who said it? Is he okay?"
"Sage," Hermione says softly, and Sage is listening fully. "Sirius Black is the reason his parents are dead."
"I know that, it's practically public knowledge-"
"But he's also Harry's godfather."
And then, Sage manages to have her second panic attack in under two months.
a/n: this has taken so long to upload but it's been in my drafts for almost a year wtf is wrong with me