Chapter 18: A Meeting of the Unconscious

Sage stalked down the corridors trying to calm down his stomach and his nerves. His mind flowed through so many thoughts, and Sage could not make his mind stick to simply one of them. There was not simply one thing bothering him, there were many.

First, reality seemed so skewed to him that he did not even feel like a person, much less like himself. In fact, he wasn't so sure he knew what it was to exist anymore.

Second, he felt sick all the time, had such bad insomnia that he felt worn out and aggravated most of the time - which of course made it more impossible for him to use his powers. That was the crowning glory, he was a Magi who was not capable of simply being a Magi.

The other thing that was bothering him and playing on his mind was that he could still feel that something was going on, something was happening. He stopped his aimless wandering and leaned against the hand-rail by the stairwell.

His dreams and his visions had been plentiful, but he could not benefit from them in any way, because he was either too weak to remember them or incapable of interpreting them. From the evidence he had been able to gain, he had figured out that the something was going to happen to Harry. He was sure that Karkaroff put Harry's name in the goblet, or perhaps Moody – they were one in the same evil so far as Sage was concerned. And Harry had shown up in Sage's visions and dreams, although that told him nothing about what was going to happen. All he could do was hope that he could be paying enough attention to catch something, some little clue or detail, before anything bad happened.

Looking down the dozens of flights of stairs, he sighed. He was a Magi, and he knew something was happening, but he could not figure out what, and when he either figured it out or it actually happened, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it because he couldn't focus worth anything! He scratched his arm. It itched fiercely lately.

Another thing to worry about. The Dark Mark. It had become surprisingly menacing over the past few months, itching more furiously than ever before. Now it seemed to tingle or burn slightly ever so often, when that usually only happened during his visions. He cringed and stopped scratching.

I shall have to ask my uncle about that. No doubt he feels it too. I wonder if that means that the prophecy of the Dark Lord's return has come true? The servant returning to the master… It must have happened, but I guess he cannot be fully back yet if he hasn't, well, called his followers to him. So, what does this mean?Why is the Mark bothering me so much, could it just be me. Perhaps my uncle doesn't feel it. Well, no matter, I cannot exactly go and ask him about it. Not after tonight. I rather ruined that, didn't I? Well, s'ok doesn't seem that I can do anything right these days.

"Wandering the corridors late at night, Sage?" A familiar voice startled him from behind.

Sage spun around to the soft blue eyes of the headmaster. The man bore a surprisingly amused look on his face and coupled with his pale blue pyjamas covered by a dark blue cloak, and wearing a night cap, he was quite a sight. Sage had trouble stiffling his snort. At least Sage was wearing his clothes. He couldn't imagine the headmaster seeing him in his pyjamas, and his weren't nearly as…colorful.

"I couldn't sleep, sir, and my stomach has been bothering me." He thought about saying he was on the way to the dungeons, as an excuse for being out, but he didn't. The lines he'd done in the headmaster's office had given him some introspection. That, and the elder wizard did not seem in the least upset.

The headmaster nodded sympathetically, "You are too young for those problems, Sage." The old man chuckled. "But, perhaps you have as much on your mind as I have on mine. Perhaps that is why we find each other in this corridor, hmm?"

"Perhaps, sir." In an effort to deflect the talk from himself, he asked, "Why are you out walking around, sir?"

The headmaster held up the bag he had been holding. "I went down to the kitchens for some cookies. I find that some cookies and warm milk always helps put me right back to sleep."

Sage suppressed the odd look that had been trying to get onto his face. He did not want to be rude, but the old wizard was terribly eccentric and seemed to hold to very childish amusements.

"You do not believe me, well then, you will just have to come with me and try it as punishment for wandering the corridors in the middle of the night by yourself."

The man smiled mischievously so that Sage would know he wasn't serious about punishing Sage for being out.

Sage stared hard, the odd look finally winning over his defenses and claiming possession of his face.

He had not even said a word before Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and ushered him towards his office. The moment Dumbledore touched him and squeezed his shoulder, Sage suddenly had a feeling that the Headmaster needn't actually go anywhere to get milk and cookies and that the reason the old wizard was in the corridor was distinctly because of him.

The feeling was further solidified when the cookies had no form of chocolate in them at all.

A headache crashed down upon his head like an anvil just as he made it back to his room that night. The light swirled around him, and he squinted his eyes almost shut to keep out the brightness of the light. His eyes pounded. It seemed to be getting even brighter. Sage grabbed the dresser for stability and then pushed himself off it towards the bed. He fell down upon it like a rag doll and then rolled over onto his back as prickles went up and down his arms. His face turned towards the fireplace, but he knew there was no way for him to make it there and call for help. He looked up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes, succumbing to the pain that was spreading over his body like wildfire.

As little eruptions made their way through his skin and muscle and organs, he clenched his fists tightly. Is this real? was the last thought he had before his mind could handle no more. Through the pain, the vision came to him.

The Dark Mark glowed brightly in the sky over the treeline. Fog surrounded him like a curtain. Suddenly a figure appeared, dressed shabbily in brown. His hood was up and covering his face. A feeling of dread filled his body from toe to hair. The figure moved closer and closer still. A gust of wind shook the leaves in the trees causing an eerie sound. Like scraping. The hood of the figure fell down as if in slow motion and standing before Sage was Alastor Moody, his fake eye turning in all directions. The man opened his mouth to speak, but what came out did not sound like Moody's voice. The man's skin began to melt off and a smell of burning rubber met Sage's nose. A bright flash of light in his mind and a tug on his body and the vision changed. It was on the Hogwart's grounds and there were stands all around filled with tons of onlookers. He turned to see what they were staring at. There was a huge dragon bobbing its head, snorting smoke, and at the dragon's foot was Harry Potter, calling and yelling and screaming something, his wand outstretched. The dragon opened its mouth. A turn of his head brough his eyes to the judges' stand where Dumbledore was standing in dread and Karkaroff was smiling maniacally. One more flash brought another scene in front of him. There was a huge hedge of bush burning with blue flame, a figure holding its hand up towards it. He could feel the presence of many people. The last image he saw was of the Goblet of Fire, lying discarded in the dirt by a gravestone. The air surrounding it smelling of blood and rotting flesh.

The vision ended abruptly. Sage's body felt mangled. The hold the vision had over his consciousness vanished, and he passed out.

When he awoke, he was in a strange bed of white linens and curtains that smelled most certainly of incense. He sat up without pain. Fear rose up inside of him.

Am I dead?! Where am I?

Was he still in some sort of a vision, or perhaps a dream, perhaps he was dead? He got up and out of the bed and found himself in dark blue robes. Brightness shone around him, as if he were outside and the sun was at its apex. Hesitantly, he walked towards a white door with a gold knob and turned it open.

A voice greeted him, "Welcome, young Magi." A pause. "Finally."

Sage's eyes bolted around for the source of the voice. He turned to all corners of the room, but saw nothing other than a fire and two chairs. There was a small pop, and he spun to face the sound. He saw the back of an old wizard clothed in robes much like his own. He glared skeptically at the man, wondering if it was perhaps the Headmaster. He knew of no one else with hair as white as snow.

The man turned around fluidly. It was not Albus Dumbledore. The man confronting him also had long white hair and a magnificent white beard. A strange band of tooled gold and platinum went around the man's head. His eyes were blue and shone with good-nature. His pale pink mouth smiled slightly. In his hand he bore a long scepter, that looked more like a glorified walking stick to Sage.

"Who, who are you?" Sage asked.

The man chuckled, "A better question may be, who are you?" The man continued to chuckle at Sage's confused look. "You're the one needing to know."

"Erm, I am Sage Snape," he answered furrowing his brow.

Smiling, the old man nodded slightly, "Yes, on the most basic level. I do believe you can expand more on that my young friend."

Sage blinked. Merlin! What is going on?

"I do not want to know, Sage Snape, I already know. I am here so that you will know."

Sage blinked twice, had he said that last part out loud? "Know what?"

"Who you are dear boy! Now let us sit down and talk. Perhaps your mind will clear up some. I thought you'd be a little sharper than this!" A laugh.

Sage, leery, eyed the man, but then followed him to the chairs in front of the fire.

"Now, Sage, tell me about who you are to be a Snape."

Sage's eyebrow went up. "Erm, I am the son of Jace Snape, descended from a really long line of wizards."

The man chuckled again at the simplicity of Sage's answer. "And who else are you descended from?"

The young man looked at him plainly.

"A clue perhaps?" The white-

Sage thought he finally knew where the old man was heading with his line of questioning. "Three great and powerful wizards. One of whom was the leader of the light, one of whom was a leader of the dark, and then one of whom was the greatest wizard that ever lived."

"Ahh, well done, young Magi. A bit like pulling teeth, but well done. We shall get there eventually."

Merlin! This is tedious, Sage thought.

The old man chuckled once again, "Yes, yes it is, but that is more your fault than mine, Dear Boy."

Sage jumped. He had not said that part earlier out loud. The wizard had just heard his thoughts. "Who are you." He demanded, feeling suddenly quite on guard.

No matter his state, Sage also knew that someone invading your mind could make you see or experience all manner of things, and if that was the case….

"You have been saying my name all this while! I am Merlin."

Sage blinked furiously. Not Legilimency then. He was sure he was in some very odd dream now.

"Perhaps, but no matter." Merlin answered him.

"Why am I here?" Sage asked.

The old wizard folded his hands in his lap and asked. "No, why am I here."

Sage's left brow went up, "To help me know who I am?"

"Ahh, very good, maybe you are quite quick. More than that though, young Magi. I am here to help you realize everything about who and what you are."

"I am a Magi. I am the one you spoke of in your last prophecy."

"Yes, but who are you to be a Magi, to be such a one?"

Sage scowled, "I don't know, sir!"

"You do. Perhaps, however, it would be best if I help you along."

Sage nodded, grateful that he did not have to be frustrated anymore.

"You are a young man who once complete will be capable of any magic, of manipulating any force or energy. You are a unity of infinite magical power and the human mind. Once your mind is able to grasp the totality of your capabilities, grasp that freedom, you will be able to do things no man has yet seen. Once you learn to let your powers speak to your mind, to let the world speak to you, you will be truly a Magi. But your mind, Sage, is so cluttered that it can no longer hear. You cannot focus on your power. You cannot focus on your future, on your path. You are in pain, young Magi, why?"

Sage put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

"My entire life has been wrought with death and pain. For once, I was beginning to believe that I could get away from that, that I could experience some kind of happiness. Your scroll took that away from me."

Merlin nodded sympathetically. "You are still so young, Magi. You do not yet realize the complexity around you. It is not my prophecy that took happiness away from you, it is you that took happiness away from yourself."

Sage shot him a pointed glare, demanding to know what the wizard had meant by that statement.

The ancient wizard sighed and patted Sage's shoulder gently. "You have allowed it to consume you, the prophecy, your death, the death of those whom you care for. Young Albus should not have showed it to you so young, but that - as all things - happened for a reason. Your uncle was right to tell you that the winds of time may change what is to come. I have seen many, many things that are to happen Sage, many of which will happen to you or around you. Do you remember what it was that I did not see?"

Sage frowned and ran his hand through his black hair. He closed his eyes, his long eyelashes curling gently. "Which side would fall."

"Mmm, and why do you think that is Sage?"

"I don't know, sir,"

Merlin smiled knowingly and put a hand on Sage's forearm, on that forearm. "You do know. It is what makes you the One, young Magi, what makes you so important, so vital."

It was Sage's turn to sigh, shaking his head almost unperceptively.

"This is not happening to me," he said quietly. "And this definitely isn't real."

"It is, it has already happened. This is what you are, young Magi, what you have always been. And even if it's happening in your mind, what makes you think it isn't real? Are you sure you know what real is?" Merlin paused. Sage blinked. "Why could I not see which side would fall?" Merlin persisted.

Sage put his hands up to his head and cradled it, his head pounding, "Because that is what depends upon me." His voice managed to barely whisper.

"Good," Merlin nodded, "good."

"It's so much." It was said only in a whisper

"Yes, it always is to be a leader. Much more to be a Magi. That is why I am here."

"To help me?"

Merlin smiled gently, "Yes."

Sage picked his head up and looked into the wizard's eyes, which held so much wonder and knowledge within them, it seemed as if they were as limitless as the blue sky.

"I want to hear it again, I want to hear what is inside of me. I feel alienated from myself."

"You must remember that it was you that created that and only you can take it away again. What you are feeling is only an illusion, you are capable of moving passed it. As you are the one that created it, I cannot tell you how to rid yourself of it. I can only offer my advise to you, Sage, and you must find your own answers."

"All right."

Merlin looked at him with a slight sadness. "What would you be willing to give your life for, Sage?"

Sage wrung his hands together and quivered a bit, "I don't know. I just, just, cannot comprehend that…giving my life…for…nothingness."

Merlin twisted his strange scepter in his hands, "Let me ask you a different question, young friend, what do you have to live for?"

"Erm, I, I really don't know that either, sir."

"No? Therein, I believe, lies your problem. You must have something that ties you to this world, Sage. How can you imagine something worth dying for if you hold no value to anything or anybody. You deny yourself deep connections to people. What would give you reason to save them if you do not feel them within yourself, if you do not care for them as you do for yourself?"

Sage's face was nearly as white as his surroundings and his arms tremored lightly. Why do we have to talk about this.

"We must talk about this, Sage, because it is the part of you that you felt dying that day when you sat in front of the lake outside your home that you share with Severus. It is a part of you that you cannot allow to die, and you must find some way to bring it back to life again. Bring it back to life again like it was last year."

"How?"

"Ahhh, as I said, you must find that for yourself. I do have something to show you, however, that should put you back in touch with things. Remember that you should not deny your emotions, keep them close to you. They are your greatest fuel. You must learn to simply manage them, but not deny. Now, let me show you what emotion you are truly capable of."

Merlin tapped his scepter on the floor and a great wave of rainbow light shot forth out of it. It formed into a great screen. Sage stared at it, instantly captivated by what began to play on the screen. He saw himself flying high up around the hoops at the end of the Quidditch pitch, a smile planted upon his face, the twinkling of his eyes concealed by his sunglasses. Next, he saw himself kissing Hermione at the party he had masterminded. He vaguely remembered the way her cheek felt against his, so soft and innocent. Finally, he saw and heard himself tearing up at the end of the year before. He saw his uncle holding him close, felt those familiar hands pet his hair, and it just seemed so foreign to him. He realized that in that one small moment between himself and his uncle there had been no walls, no barriers, just emotion.

Both of them had broken down and had spent the time since trying to build the same wall back up only higher out of habit. Perhaps feeling a bit ashamed of it.

Sage's eyes drifted back to Merlin, "Why are you showing me this?"

Merlin tapped his scepter again and the screen disappeared. "Because I want you to know that you are capable of having ties to others, Sage. If you would allow yourself that, perhaps things will no longer feel empty."

"I don't know if I can be that person anymore. So much has changed."

"Because you have let it, young Magi. You have the power to change things again, to change thing for others too, you have many powers you do not yet know of. Not all of them because you are a Magi. Much more has yet to be revealed to you."

Merlin stood up, his dark blue robes, laced with gold, fluttering around him.

"I must go now, Sage, and you must return to where you belong."

Sage stood as well and looked into Merlin's glowing eyes.

"Sir, what is it to die?"

"That I cannot tell you, Sage, because I live within the powers that rest inside of you. The powers given to you by the blood in your veins, by the blood of a long line of powerful witches and wizards from great families, my blood as well. The question that will really eat away at you, young Magi, is whether or not I am really here or whether your powers chose a voice to speak to you with so that you would listen. Perhaps who you are really hearing right now is your true self, or perhaps even your future self, as you will be when you become complete."

The last things Sage saw was a blast of bright blue light before he came to consciousness in his bedroom. His body felt like one big bruised, infected, and pussing gash. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His heartbeat was dangerously racing, and the beads to sweat danced their way down the sides of his face. He could barely tell that it was morning by the dim sunlight peaking through his curtains. Everytime he took a breath, lightening bolts of pain shot through his entire body, and it hurt to wince. Grit surrounded his eyes from being passed out for so long, or perhaps from tears he did not wish to admit to, so much grit that it even was uncomfortable to even blink.

Then without further ado, his body gave out on him again, not able to support his mind as well, and slipped into unconsciousness.

Breakfast at the Gryffindor table was a sleepy affair that morning. It was Thursday, and time for Gryffindor to have double potions with the Slytherins. No fourth year ever found Thursday mornings to be bright.

Hermione sat reading her latest book, Magical Education Uncovered, Which School to Choose, hoping that it would give her some information of either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. Absentmindedly, she took a bite of her toast slathered with marmalade.

Harry and Ron sat down next to her rubbing their eyes and yawning like two animals in a zoo. She shot them one of her 'looks', shook her head and returned to her book.

When it was time to go, Hermione put her book away and nudged Harry, who was asleep on the table next to his porridge, and slapped Ron on the back of the head, who was resting on top of his buttered toast. They both groaned muttering about "having to see that git first thing in the morning" and "not having enough sleep to stomach hours of Malfoy."

As they were leaving, Hermione noticed that Sage had not come to breakfast. She figured that he must have come early, or had breakfast with Professor Snape. It was not too odd to not see him at breakfast every once and awhile. For some reason, however, she had this feeling that something was not right.

Her feeling was confirmed when Sage was not in the nearly full classroom when she walked in with Ron and Harry close behind. She stood at the door, nearly causing Ron and Harry to fall right over her.

"Erm, I forgot something," she said, backing out of the door again.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, it wasn't like Hermione to forget something for class. But, they were too tired to analyze it, so they walked in.

The little hairs were standing up on the back of Hermione's neck as she stood in the hallway looking rather sheepish. As soon as she heard footsteps coming down the hall she hurried up to them and nearly slammed straight into Professor Snape as he rounded the corner.

"Miss Granger, get out of my way and get into the classroom."

Hermione swallowed hard to keep herself from freezing up. "Sir, Sage is missing."

"Missing, Miss Granger?" He said, his short line of patience obviously growing shorter by the moment.

"Well, Professor, he wasn't a breakfast and he isn't here for class."

Snape looked down at her irritably, "I hardly count that as missing Miss Granger, it is only just turned to 8 o'clock." He tapped his foot and crossed his arms. "My nephew has a habit of being disrespectfully late, and if you do not turn around, so will you be."

Hermione persisted, "But, sir, he's almost never late to classes. In fact, he is normally the first of us up. The last time he was late to your class, he came in and, well, you know."

Snape exhaled disagreeably, "Yes, I do know. I have a class to teach. I cannot search the school for him."

"Please sir, if something is wrong, you are the only one that can help him."

Snape growled, "He is my nephew, don't you think that I know that girl? He is not a child-."

Hermione nearly started jumping up and down out of frustration as she interrupted him. "Professor, if he's unconscious that doesn't matter!"

"Don't be insolent, Miss Granger. You are lucky that I don't take points and give you a detention for that."

Hermione looked at him with those same sad, pitying brown eyes that she looked at Sage with, "I'm sorry sir, it's just, I know you care Professor. Just check his room to make sure he isn't there."

The tall man stared down hard at her, narrowing his eyes as if he were honing in on his target. He scowled, "Fine, Miss Granger. I will entertain your request, just this once. Wait right here, I cannot just leave the class, I will be right back."

Hermione moved out of his way and exhaled gently. She had expected much, much worse from the Professor. Surprisingly, though, Snape did not even take points when he had, what was normally, reason enough. She frowned, he had only warned her not to be insolent. It was certainly a welcome break from the Professor Snape of the classroom. She was beginning to get a suspicion that there was more to Professor Snape, the man as he truly was, than she knew. He was not quite as cruel with no witnesses.

Through the open door down the hallway, she could hear him put Draco Malfoy in charge of the class and give brief instruction for the potion they would be making. He told the class that he had to go speak to the Headmaster straight away about something important.

"Well, Miss Granger, don't just stand there stupidly let's go."

Hermione jumped out of her thoughts and sped up to catch the long-legged Professor.

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