The Tribrid and Her Reflection {Book Two - - Complete}

Living In His Chess Game

Heart pounding, Hope took a staggered step back and stared at two people she could see but couldn't see her. It was as if she were a ghost to them, but she hadn't died.

Had she?

Her hands pressed against her chest and then squished the sides of her face. Having died before, she knew what it felt like, and it was nothing like this. No, Hope wasn't dead, but she wasn't precisely here either.

Flickers of shadow flames stroked Newt and Albus' rigid features. It was as if they'd both aged twenty years in a few hours. Newt sniffed and slowly shook his head before resting his forehead in his palms, the room depressing into a somber silence.

As if they were in mourning.

"Oh, Newt," Hope murmured as she moved forward, kneeling beside his chair, "I'm so sorry." Her voice caught in a thick wave of emotion, but she quickly battled it back with a harsh swallow. "I'll make this right." She nodded, standing to her feet. "I'll-I'll fix this..."

Glancing over at Albus, she watched him watch Newt.

"It's going to be okay," Hope said to him, but of course, his gaze never wavered. "It was that water." She nodded to herself as she thought back. It had been so enchanting- so inviting. Hope hadn't had any other choice but to explore it. At least, that's the way it felt at the time.

"I'll fix this." Hope muttered once more, her voice holding a little more steel as she glided across the room and reached for the gargoyle, but when she thought she might touch it, the world around her was thrown into a void of pitch-black darkness.

Everything spun violently yet stopped so instantaneously. Hope couldn't be sure if she'd been falling or not. Either way, she was now standing on a balcony of the Owlery. Blinking, Hope whirled around in a confused daze.

How had she gone from the study nestled deep in the castle to outside in the Owlery?

"Okay, one crisis at a time, Hope." She sighed and started down the spiral stairs to get to the ground.

The task would be simple, in theory. The pool of water had to be some sort of portal that transported her here, wherever here was, because while it looked like Hogwarts, it certainly didn't feel like it.

It wasn't bright enough and didn't hold the same type of magic. Cold and desolate with the snow still present- it was as if someone had killed Hogwarts and brought it back as an undead creature. It was now a skeleton of its past self.

The quicker Hope could get out of this place, the better.

Passing the grounds, she could see the lip of the forest ahead where she'd earlier followed what she thought was Newt. The only thing between herself and her destination was the pen Wingedback had stayed in.

Checking that the coast was clear of anyone with suspicious similarities to that of the Grim Reaper, she shoved the gate open to take a shortcut.

Spinning.

Spinning.

Spinning.

Spinning darkness.

Hope landed with a thudding smack against moonlit tile. This time, her head spun, and her stomach lurched, but nothing came up as she dry heaved. Moving to her hands and knees, she shook her head from the dizziness that threatened her vision and looked around.

It was the Prefect's bathroom.

With a frown, Hope got to her feet, knees shaking as she shivered and looked around. The mermaid in the stained glass looked distraught, flapping her tail and flinging water.