1.18 | I was only a child

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It was as if life was testing her patience lately. The last few months we're taking a big strain on Sage mentally and physically, and even her parents had started to notice while she was still away at school.

Since school had started, Sage had found out how bad the second wizarding war had gotten, both her brother and best friend had been marked, she realized how many blood supremacists there still were in America, and she had found a way to help the order from Ilvermorny, which had been an adventure and a half on its own.

"Sage, seriously what could you possibly do this far away," Leah asks, exhausted from the conversation.

"And without exposing yourself?" Grace adds with a small supportive smile.

"An anonymous group," Sage smirks, a flash of pride crossing her eyes.

"But how?" Jasmine ponders, thinking of ways do to this.

"We set up a secure location, only one of us can access, where people can drop things to aid them. Draco and Teddy can only bring so many materials and from what I heard half the Order is Weasleys-" Leah snorts at Sage's disgust, "and if I remember correctly Potter can access his vaults. That means any money is coming from what Teddy and Draco can scavenge, and then the Weasleys, who we know have none to spare. So we have people who want to help set things like food, clothes, or even a small amount of money in the place of our choosing and we get it to them."

"Okay, but how do we pick a spot?"

"Or get it out there?"

"Or know someone won't mess with it?"

"Imagine the Weasleys contributing anything."

"First, we'll find a place on campus everyone can access, but not somewhere it would cause a problem. So say the courtyard, but not the Hall," Sage starts answering Jasmine's question, "Second, I'm a Nott witch I can do magic some only dream about—Ley Lines and all that jazz. Third, we put a spell on it that wards off any ill intent. Teddy and I had them on our manor."

"Well then, let's do it," Grace smiles, getting up to find the perfect place for the drop-off.

"I'll make posters," Leah smiles, "Willow, can you help? We're both artistic."

Willow nods and the two leave to go back to Leah's common room.

Jasmine turned to Sage and frowned, "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"No," Sage smirked.

"Good," she sighs, "I'd be concerned if you did."

So, yeah, Sage was stressed. Once a week she would grab the supplies donated and illegally port key it to a safe spot she and the order had set up. Well, really it was Sage under Grace's name who set it up, as she didn't want to her secret identity to be known.

Two or three times a week she would answer either a letter from the boys or have a conversation via the link. All would end in tears and fear which would send her into an anxiety attack, which would send her to the hospital wing.

The worst of it all was, every morning The Wizards Voice, an American version of the Prophet, was delivered, Sage would read the death toll list and the unmourned list, a list of names of the dead from the dark. The first time she heard of the unmourned she lit everyone's papers on fire, screeching that they still had families, they still had people who loved them, that even Voldemort had people who loved him. She continued screaming that no one goes unmourned and that just because they made a wrong choice as children, or were forced to take the wrong choice, doesn't mean they weren't loved.

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