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The Yule Ball was a nightmare. Sage knows it's true when she wakes up the next morning.
She danced with Harry again. Then, they met Hermione and Ron at the edge of the dance floor and the girl got very angry at her two best friends, and Sage had to comfort her until Hermione was ready to dance again. Then, Sage watched as everybody enjoyed their night and she moped to herself on the outskirts.
She fought with Hermione, too. They left at the same time, right at the very end, and Hermione gushed about how great her night was, and Sage said something like 'yeah, mine wasn't that great' and Hermione got upset that Sage had a bad night, and Sage accidentally blamed it all on Hermione sending away Harry and then ignoring her all night when she knows that Stevie and Ripley and her aren't friends at the moment and she doesn't really have many other friends. And then Hermione accused Sage of trying to steal Krum from her, which was really stupid, and Sage just laughed in her face and stormed off.
So, yeah, Sage and Hermione aren't in a good place.
Cut to after Christmas, when Sage is still upset that she didn't get a present or a letter or anything from her dad. Remus sent her a painting he found in a charity shop of a squid dancing with a raven. Sage thinks it's lovely.
And it's back to classes as usual. Boring, boring, boring. Sage finds everything dull these days.
Except for one Tuesday afternoon Defence Against the Dark Arts class. That one is very interesting.
They've been learning about Unforgivable Curses, and then the mad professor decides he wants to test one out on his students.
"This is mental," Sage whispers to Dean, who nods nervously. "Absolutely mad."
Before them, Lavender Brown scuttles around the floor like a crab, her teeth bared.
"I wish I had my camera," says Seamus. Sage smacks him over the back of the head.
"Mean."
The queue progresses quickly, Moody seeming annoyed that nobody is able to resist the curse. But, it's like, illegal to use these curses, Sage thinks. Surely they'd be very difficult to resist if they're so bad that they're illegal.
Dean leaps around the room like a member of the Ballet. He twirls on the tips of his toes. Nobody really finds it funny anymore, because nearly everybody's had a turn at being taken over and controlled. Sage is next in the queue. She's sweating.
"You," barks Moody. "Laurent. Up next."
His swivelling eye still refuses to look at her. Sage steps into the middle of the room.
"Imperio," says Moody, aiming his wand at her. The edges of her vision get blurry.
Hey, whispers a voice in the back of Sage's mind. We don't really wanna be controlled by this guy, do we?
