Chapter 22

Skye sighs as Ginevra [call me Ginny] Weasley runs up to her, "Sorry Professor, but Professor McGonagall isn't in her classroom, and Transfiguration was supposed to start 5 minutes ago."

Looking at the ceiling, and pinching the bridge of her nose, "Fine, thank you for letting me know."

Forgoing her wandering through the castle, Skye takes Ginny's hand and steps through the mist and out again at the transfiguration classroom.

"Good afternoon everyone, I'm sorry that Professor McGonagall couldn't be here, so for the moment I'll be teaching you. Now, as you are all aware, I know little to nothing about Roman magic. Instead, today we will be learning a wandless skill called Illusion." Skye has to pause for a moment as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw class cheer.

"Now, to start the lesson, I want you to all show me your wandless light spell."

It takes nearly 15 minutes for them all to have their various lights hovering above their hands. During that time, Skye searches the classroom for the matchsticks that Minerva uses, to no avail. Eventually, she asks a house elf for a pack of cocktail sticks, and gets a large, wrapped bundle of them.

"Well done everyone. Ginny, you've got large reserves, but you need to practice this more. Luna, you don't have the largest reserves, but you have creativity in spades. Darrell, well done for getting it faster than you did before. Merle, you're probably magically the weakest student in your year, I want you to do this three times a day from now on. If you do that, you'll catch up with everyone else. Everyone else, you're all doing well.

"As with most traditional wandless magic, illusion and glamour are both skills that you need to build on in order to be any good. In Celtic magic, the difference between Illusion and Glamour is whether you're affecting yourself, or your surroundings. Transfiguration itself could be said to be a form of illusion, however it is a distinct method of magic as I'm sure you all remember from our defence classes." As she talks, Skye walks around the room passing out cocktail sticks, "What I want you all to do is imagine something around the same size as these cocktail sticks and then push that image onto the cocktail stick you've been given. You are not changing the cocktail stick, you are imposing your own idea of what it should be on it. Yes Merle?"

"Professor, how do we do that?"

Skye smiles, "That, I can't tell you. Not because I don't know, but because I'm not you. Each and every one of you thinks differently to the others, and will need to find your own way to do this. Well done Luna, do you feel like you could do another one?"

Luna looks at the wrackspurt she's created as she considers the question, "No Professor, this was hard."

Skye nods, "I want you to think about how you did it, and if there's an easier way for you to do it. As I was saying Merle, it's all about the way that you think. Do you think the method that Luna used would work for you?"

Merle shakes his head, "No professor, none of the rest of us believe in imaginary creatures."

Skye arches an eyebrow, "How do you know they're imaginary?"

"Well, nobody's ever seen one."

"In the non-magical world, nobody's ever seen a unicorn, but there's a herd living in the forest here. Are they imaginary?"

"No, as they're right there."

"OK everyone, we'll be covering a bit of philosophy in the next defence class. Something called a Black Swan event. Before then, I want you all to consider whether this creature exists or not." Skye produces an illusion of a duckbilled platypus on the desk she's leaning against, "Beyond what you can see here, the creature is reported to lay eggs like a bird, and has venomous spines on its flippers like a scorpion. Before the lesson, I want you all to write down your guess and place it on my desk at the beginning. However, you still have 20 minutes of this lesson to go, so 1 point to everyone else who manages an illusion in this lesson, and 3 points to Luna for finishing before I finished my explanation."

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When a 4th year class starts to enter before Skye can skedaddle, and Minerva still hasn't returned, or left a message; she becomes concerned. Simply telling the class to continue practicing what they were doing in the last lesson allows her to think and try to feel out the Deputy Headmistress's magic. As soon as it's gone, she follows Minerva's magic deep into the mist, where she finds her wandering as a cat.

Scooping her up into her arms, Skye scritches between her ears, "Well, aren't you the adventurous kitty. It's a good thing I found you, as you've been heading deeper into the mist. An hour or so longer and I wouldn't have been able to find you. Come on, let's get you back to Hogwarts and you can tell me just why you ended up in the Otherside."

Once they get back, Minerva transforms and heads straight to her office for an unopened bottle of fire whiskey before going on a rant about what happened. As she's winding down, Skye observes.

"You know that Morgana probably saved your life."

"What do you bloody well mean, she probably saved my life?"

"Think, use that brain and your experience and knowledge. Then tell me what a god like Ares would have done in that classroom."

Minerva stares at Skye before deciding to humour her, "If Ares was real, he would have started a fight."

"Right, and what sort of collateral damage would there have been?"

"I really don't think an ancient wizard would be able to cause so much damage before a modern transfiguration mistress took him down."

"Minerva… Do you think you could take Morgana in a fight?"

"Oh, merlin no, she's a freak of nature, along with the other one I met."

"What about her being the Morrigan?"

Minerva takes another shot of whiskey from the now almost empty bottle, "Hereditary title. I don't know how they get that strong, and I don't want to know. I don't know why Marianne's here either, either you're magical enough to use a wand, or you're not. But the Sorting hat has accepted her, so who am I to question it? Same as all the old rules. It's much better now we know about them, but why keep quiet for so long?"

Skye shakes her head in disbelief, "So why have you been so accepting and accommodating?"

"Simple, strong magic and new techniques. S'can only be good for our society going forward. S'what we do, bring in new magicals and teach them as much as they teach us. Cuppla hun'red years, and we've keeped the best bits of both."

Skye looks at her sadly, "You truly believe that, don't you."

"O'course. Not that we come across much new. Not af'er ta church screwed everything over…"

Skye watches as the woman falls asleep in her chair mid-sentence, absently catching the bottle before it hits the floor. It is so very tempting to do what Morgana did to her, and just dump her into a domain to find out the truth herself.

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Mihaela looks towards Sarajevo sadly as the occasional shell falls out of the sky onto the city. As much power as she now has, protecting such a large city is beyond her, probably beyond the abilities of all of the Danann she used to be allied with, working together.

As she stands there, the local Imam leaves approaches her from behind, "It is hard watching this."

Mihaela nods, "It is, harder still knowing that I have the power to help now."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because it is too big, and I am only one person. It's also why I resigned from the UN peace forces. There are things that people need to sort out for themselves, and none they used to call gods can help them with. The Morrigan could probably depopulate the entire area." She shrugs, "I could too for that matter. But I couldn't do it only for the attackers."

"It is uncomfortable hearing you talk about other gods when we know that Allah is the only God and he created everything."

"And yet you still talk to me. Why is that?"

The Imam looks out at the city again, "You saved us, and you continue to defend us. Yet I do not know why, so I seek to know you."

Mihaela turns to face the Imam, "Tell me, what defines a god? What makes them different from angels, demons, or any of the other servants they may have?"

"Allah is beyond all, he created everything and has blessed us with guidance through his prophets."

Mihaela nods, "That's not answering the question. I'm going to get some sleep. If we get more people seeking sanctuary tomorrow, I'm going to pray to another family member for help putting up new houses… Along with anyone that wishes to pray with me."

The Imam watches her leave with a troubled expression on his face. This will be the third time she's prayed for help, and help has arrived.

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After another Friday night without her best friend, Liz pours herself through her front door before holding onto it while the world sways slightly from side to side. Once the world has stabilised again, she leans against the door to take her shoes off, only to land heavily on her bum as the door pushes closed with a loud bang. Leaning forward, she struggles with the straps on her heels for a few minutes, before giving up and crawling into the kitchenette while trying not to throw up. A task she fails at.

Finally making it to the sofa, she climbs onto it before lying down with her head on the arm. As her eyes start becoming heavy, she spots the bit of paper Skye gave her a few months ago. Pushing herself upright, she grabs the paper. Reading it over a couple of times, she smiles at the fact Skye also gave her the pronunciation in the line below the actual text.

On the third try she successfully says, "Morrigú Mór agus Uafásach Iarraim ort mo phléadáil a fhreagairt. Skye gave this to me because I said you don't exist."

Punching the air as successfully saying the prayer, she keels over sideways as she falls into an Alcohol induced sleep.

A few hours later she wakes up with hangover mouth, firelight flickering on the thatched ceiling above her. As she turns over, a stalk of straw scratches her breast, causing her to squirm into full awareness. That's when she realises that she's stark naked on some sort of crude bed. Looking around, she can't see anything that looks even vaguely familiar or modern, or even like clothes.

As Liz is thinking about the wisdom of taking the cover off the bed, a tall woman, with a bronze sword at her side, walks in and tosses a bundle of clothes on the bed, "Get dressed, The Morrigan is outside. Having a 'quiet' word with Skye."

Liz winces at the volume the woman is speaking at, only belatedly realising that looking at faces instead of wickedly sharp swords is important.

It takes her several minutes to put on the unfamiliar garments, and tie them closed, as there's no buttons or zips. Once she has, she walks out of the building in a daze. Then promptly walks back inside as the sound of metal hitting wood assaults her ears, along with the daylight that floods through the cover over the doorway. It doesn't take long for her thirst and need to pee forces her outside again, where the sound of metal on wood has stopped.

As she's trying to get her bearings, and spot any landmarks, a giant of a woman walks around from the side of the building carrying a bronze sword in one hand. "Good morning, you must be Liz. I am The Morrigan."

Liz blinks deliberately as she tries to process that, "But you can't be. Legends of the Morrigan go back thousands of years."

"Yet here I am. I could turn you into a raven if you want."

"At the moment, a bathroom would be great."

Morgana laughs and opens a portal to her home, "Go ahead, first door on the left."

Liz blinks rapidly, then rubs her eyes as she walks around the portal. Finally, she faints.

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Moody dodges down to one side and tries to turn quickly as Amelia moves deftly around to his blind side. Only instincts honed from hunting dark wizards allows him to bring his own sword up to block a strike she aimed at his side. Then his magic eye catches her again and he brings up a protego with his off hand in time to block the spell she sent his way. At the same time he disappears with a crack and tries to strike her from behind, only to find her sword at his throat as her other hand grips his wand hand.

"Well done Moody, but you need to learn to use the mist. Also, get your bloody leg fixed. Even with the mundane version, you are too slow and unable to take into account changing terrain."

Moody laughs, "You got me fair and square, but I'll still whip you with my wand."

Amelia shakes her head, "Go ahead, see how you get on."

Moody just pulls his wand and turns to face Amelia. The fight this time is far faster paced, but even with his massive repertoire and experience he can't counter the fact that Amelia can just vanish into the mist and reappear, invisible, anywhere around him.

With her sword on his neck once more, Amelia shakes her head, "Just face it Moody, we're now at the point where you can't progress without learning Celtic magic for real."

"You maybe right lass, but I don't want yet another weakness."

"Then pray to Airmed and ask her to fix your leg and eye. Maybe she'll be able to do something so you keep the benefits of that eye."

"Well, what's your private name then?"

Amelia laughs, "I trust you Moody, just not that much."