Disclaimer: see previous chapter.
Several hours later, when Priya was busy telling Faith and Giles of her misadventures in the foothills of the Himalayas, the building of St. Mungo’s was dark and quiet, looking almost deserted. Well, not really, since many of its patients could not go home at night, and quite a few members of the staff could not leave either.
Verte Lovegood, the big sister of Xeno Lovegood, and Luna Lovegood’s aunt, was one of them – the patients, that is. Subdued and put into an almost permanent sleeping trance, she was forced to live the rest of her life here not for her magics and magical experiments, which, admittedly, were quite foul, but because of political treason – long ago she chose to join Grindelwald in his war against Britain and Dumbledore, and for that – just for that – she should’ve been imprisoned in Azkaban, once Grindelwald died and she was imprisoned.
But she was not. Her parents (and brother) were pureblooded and politically influential and rich enough to soften her sentence to a permanent incarceration in St. Mungo’s instead, provided that she remained sufficiently docile and submissive. A series of potions and spells provided that, but they also had one unexpected side effect: they slowed Verte’s age significantly, even by the standards of the wizards, who could often live for decades before aging and dying – but Verte was someone else.
Right now, that someone else was in a trance, seeking the new moth (or rather butterfly) in the lands of dream – all in vain. For many weeks – all in vain. The Gryffindor-red butterfly had vanished, and Verte was too out of practice to successfully seek her out.
“Where are you, where?” she hissed as she slid through the flowering fields of dreams.
“You’re not talking about me, are you?” spoke a tall, haughty-looking sable-tressed beauty as she appeared seemingly out of thin air. And though Verte had never seen her before, she recognized the newcomer at once:
“Queen Morgan!” Verte half-cried half-hissed. “Why are you here, with the likes of me?”
“I have heard of you once,” the ancient sorceress replied, kneeling to face Verte eye to eye, “I heard of your exploits, and I want for you to do them once again, I want you to be free!”
“That might need some doing,” Verte said plainly. “I’m bound by potions and magic, and even I need some help in breaking out of them.”
“This can be done,” Morgan said, as she grabbed Verte. “Purge!”
Back in the real world, outside the world of dreams, Verte’s eyes opened suddenly as she became fully awake – and purged of the magics that had been bounding and weakening her for several decades.
“I’m free,” she whispered excitedly as she got onto her feet and walked to the door of her cell. “My little Gryffindor butterfly, I’m coming for you!”
...Halfway across London, Faith and Giles were hiring Priya as the Council’s new lawyer, while in another direction, Hermione Grainger just slept on.