Helga could hear the dull thud of her feet as she walked cautiously down the dank corridor. There were no pictures, no framed posters, nothing but blank rock, enclosing on her from both sides. A blue torch sat on the wall next to the black door that awaited her at the end of the corridor.




The young woman watched in slow motion as her hand reached out and grasped the cold handle, turning it with a deafening squeak. Pulling it open, her eyes were met with total darkness, and cool air blasted into the corridor, pushing her blonde curls away from her face. She took a deep breath and walked into the black abyss.




After shutting the door behind her, blue torches flamed to life at once, casting an eerie glow over the circular room, whose ceiling was as high as a cathedral’s. There were many doors, all black as charcoal. A mechanical clinking began to vibrate around the room, and suddenly the entire wall was spinning. Helga’s eyes were streaked with the haunting blue of the torches long after the rotating ceased.




In almost a dreamlike state, Helga walked to the closest door and pulled the knob around, opening the heavy black door and peering inside. The walls were alight with glitter. Every corner was glowing in the milky light. A large dome, almost like a glass egg, sat in the middle of the room, and Helga approached it, fascinated. Inside was a small raven, black as night. As she watched, he began to sink back down to the bottom of the dome, growing smaller and wetter as he went. Then suddenly, he was incrusted inside a bird egg.




“It couldn’t be an eagle or a hummingbird. It had to be a God-forsaken raven,” Helga muttered disgustedly. She walked past the egg, completely ignoring a large hourglass filled with golden sand. Her thoughts were consumed by Rowena Ravenclaw, the witch whom she had dubbed her sister in spirit, and who now she wished only a gruesome death. The reasons were far too horrible. Rowena had betrayed Helga. She had ripped her heart out for all to see, leaving it bare upon the ground. The black haired witch, who carried such poise, knowledge, and beauty, had stolen the one thing Helga had ever wanted so badly she would kill for it. She was the cause of her pain. She would pay…soon.




There was another plain black door on the other side of the large glowing egg. Helga bypassed it, ignoring as the raven grew back into its prime age. She held out a hand, and once again noticed how slowly her hand made its progress to the handle, almost as if in a dream. When her hand connected to the silver handle, it began glowing a luminescent gold, flowing through her hand and into her arm, until all of her body was alight. Her mouth hung open in astonishment as her body lit up the Time Room even more so than the egg.




A heat started to take place in her fingertips, and it grew to a tingly itch that ran up and down her arm. When she gasped and tried to pull away from the door, though, it was as if her hand was pasted to it. The door would not release her. And she understood that the only way to go was forward. Closing her hazel eyes, Helga took a deep breath and pulled the door open and rushed through the doorway, slamming it behind her.




When Helga opened her eyes, she found the entire world had turned upside down. Her eyes flashed wildly all around her as she tried not to panic as the blood rushed to her head. Far beneath her, courtroom benches lined the wall, tall enough that if she reached out her hand she could touch them. The entire room was bathed in a brown, dead colour.




Frantically, as Helga’s brain started to jostle back to life, she reached behind her to take a hold of the handle to the room she had just left. But she found that there was no door. It had disappeared into the wall, leaving her no choice but to remain in this room, stuck to the ceiling. She turned her head quickly, searching for a way out without having to move her feet, for she was scared that if she were to part her foot from the ceiling, she would plummet to the stone floor beneath her.




Her large eyes locked onto another black door, this one garish and caked in rust, straight across the room from where she was hanging. Helga knew she would have to walk across the ceiling, her pounding head a strong reminder of that. Her breath quickened as she began to slowly lift her right foot. She found it was very reluctant to part, as though it had been glued down. With as much courage as she could muster, she closed her eyes once more and completely lifted her foot away and placed it slightly in front of her.




When Helga opened her eyes, she found that she had not plummeted to the floor below her. But she also realized that it would take much too long to reach the door, and she didn’t think her poor head would be able to take much more.




Gulping air, Helga resolved to do the first crazy thing she had done in a long time: she ran. Each time her foot left the ceiling, it was as though she was asking it to come unglued. She made it though, and was panting uncontrollably when she reached the newest door. Grabbing the black knob, she pulled with as much strength as she could, and the door squeaked loudly as it opened for the first time in a long time. Taking a deep breath, Helga stepped through into the next unknown room.




The door opened into velvety blackness. It pressed upon Helga’s eyes like a blanket. Stepping away from the door, she felt her feet lurch beneath her, and she stumbled, feeling the old stone steps crumble away. Quickly, she stilled her movement, and lowered herself into a sitting position, precautious on the cracking floor. Her breathing was coming in short gasps. She began breathing deeply, and noticed how the room seemed to pulse eerily with her breaths, as though it was completely in tune with her.




Helga strained her eyes against the darkness, and at first thought it was only her imagination as the room came into focus, but slowly she began to make out the rising stairs and a huge, ancient archway. The room swam in a faint blue and green colour, but Helga noted that there were many shadows flitting around the edges of the room. It scared her worse than the dark.




Suddenly, she felt a brush on her shoulder, and she uttered a soft scream. Whipping around, though, she found no one, only a retreating shadow. It slithered away and began to rotate the room with the others. Helga shivered as she watched their circle. Thinking of a way to distract herself, she looked around the bluish room and noticed the archway again, which was holding a long curtain, tattered and ripped. The curtain, which was more like a veil, was blowing gently, moving on its own accord, just as the shadows.




Curiously, she approached it. The veil whispered to her. “Helga…Helga.”




Instead of utter terror, a warm sensation embraced Helga as she strained her ears to the veil. The room changed. It was no longer a dark, cold room of moving shadows. It was a warm, sunny gold room, where the very air breathed peace and tranquility. She suddenly had a very strong desire to touch the veil…to step through it. Why, she could not explain, but explaining didn’t really matter to her.




Just as she stepped onto the base and reached out a hand to hold the veil, a voice reached Helga, and it seemed to come from the veil itself. It bathed her in warmth and tenderness, and tears of joy filled Helga’s eyes as the room mirrored her, colours blooming on the walls.




“Helga, its Godric. How have you been?”




Helga felt the tears stream down her face as his voice floated out and surrounded her. It had been nearly two weeks since she had last heard him. He had past from this world into the next, leaving her all alone, for two whole weeks.




“Godric,” she whispered, preparing to launch herself through the veil to be able to reach him.




“No, Helga, you mustn’t!” His command stopped her in her tracks, and she dared go no further. Instead, she stepped away and back onto the crumbling stone floor.




“You cannot reach me here. I am but visiting this place, waiting for you, and then I am to continue on my way.”




“Godric,” Helga cried, “I have missed you so.” She brushed tears away and listened hard.




“And I have missed you more than you know. But I also know that you cannot continue on with this train of hatred that you old against Rowena. For then, when it is your turn to pass, you will not be in the same place as me. And I won’t have that.”




Helga began to sob openly, and she felt as though Godric’s arms were embracing her. She did not know how Godric was speaking to her, but she did know that this was the veil many spoke of in legends as the point of which people hover in when things had not been settled on this world, but when they were, the spirits would be on their way to a place no living person knew of.




“But Godric…How can I ever forgive her for what she has done to me? To us?”




“You must find it in your heart, Helga, and I know that there is room enough for Rowena again, for I know how large and loving your heart is.”




His words surrounded Helga and seemed to seep into her soul, and she knew in her heart that he was right, as he had always been right. Helga nodded, and then replied, “Godric, I will try my hardest.”




Godric spoke again, “And Helga, wherever you go, and whomever you love, know that I will always love you, and I shall never stop, and I have not stopped in death.”




Helga smiled a smile which radiated her love, and she said, “I will always love you, Godric, no matter who might come after, if ever someone does.”




“The way out is around me. I know we will see each other again, Helga. Let your heart guide you.”




And with that, the room changed back to the dark place it was, and shadows flitted around, whispering, and Helga knew they were lost spirits, waiting for the right person to come along. She spotted the door around the archway, and ran as fast as she could to it, not once looking back at the veil.

Water rushed up to meet Helga, and she sputtered loudly as it flew into her mouth. The floor had completely disappeared, and in its place was a crystal clear pond. The crisp water was up to her shoulders, and her curls just brushed the surface. She twirled sluggishly, looked for a door, and she spotted one across the pond. Swimming strongly, she sped to the door and grabbed a hold of the handle. But it wouldn’t budge.


Helga pulled her wand out of the pocket of her billowing robes and muttered, “Alohomora.”


Nothing.


Helga grunted in exasperation. Then she noticed a glinting silver key next to the door’s hinges. Snatching it, she rammed the small key into the key hole, but even before she turned it she knew that this key could not possibly unlock the door. It was just too easy.


She was right. The doorknob wouldn’t budge. Sighing, she placed the key back on its holder and began looking around for another key. She pushed off back into the clear water, relaxing as it slid over her. Flipping over, she dove beneath the surface and looked around. There were many creatures under the water, but they all looked harmless. They swam by lazily, not even acknowledging her presence.


A flash of silver caught Helga’s eye, and she spotted another key lying on the pond floor. She kicked down and was just reaching out a hand to grab it when a blue fin struck through the water, and the key disappeared. Whipping around, Helga saw the fin, which was long and powerful, beating against the water. She followed up the fin and was met by a torso and head of a very beautiful man. It was a merman, but none like Helga had ever seen before. She knew merpeople were not at all beautiful, but this one looked to have stepped out of a Muggle child’s fairytale book. He had long blonde hair that swirled in the water, wrapping around his strong build and his blue eyes were like ice shards; cutting and deadly, yet beautifully addictive.


Helga began to feel her lungs burn, and kicked to the surface, and she saw that the merman followed her, his tail raising a tornado of clear water. When she reached the surface, Helga gulped the air and then turned to the face beside her. He was studying her intently. She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a cold finger over her lips and ducked back beneath the water. Helga followed his lead.


Under the surface, Helga watched as he opened his hand to reveal the key to her. She reached out to take it, but he shook his head, and began to speak.


The door lies but just ahead,
If you naught hurry your soul will be dead.
The third key resides up above and high,
Hurry, these waters lead a poisonous lie.
I will help, for you’re a beauty, Miss,
But only for a stolen kiss.


Helga’s ears were ringing with the haunting song, and she returned to the surface. Breathing deeply, she thought over the song. The first line she understood completely. The door was right in front of her, she could see that. But the second line…did that mean if she stayed in here for too long, she could die? The fourth line of the song seemed to go along with that, by saying the water leads a poisonous lie. Was this water poisonous? It looked so clean and clear though. That’s the lie part, she thought to herself.


The third line of the song was something to worry about as well. The key, as she saw, was indeed up above and high, for it was residing on the ceiling. Nothing, not one spell, would work on it. Not even Accio. She knew, as this was the hardest key, the one the merman was holding out to her would not work to unlock the door.


Well, she definitely would need his help, but could a merman be trusted? Helga was not at all prejudice, but he lived in a possibly poisonous pond, deep within the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. She would just have to risk it.


“I wish to have your help. How must I get the key?” Helga felt his eyes bore into hers, and the water swirled around her as he beat his fin and swam closer. They were suddenly eye-to-eye, bodies pressed against each other. Helga knew his request, for it was the last line in the song. Pushing her hands into his long hair, Helga closed her eyes and kissed the merman. His strong arms wrapped possessively around her small form, and he deepened the kiss.


Helga had only ever been kissed like this by Godric, and it had been two weeks since she had felt any kind of physical touch. The kiss was heated and seemed even hotter by the cold water around them. It made Helga’s senses melt into each other as the merman ran his arms around her. She could feel his tongue slip into her mouth.


When the kiss finally broke, Helga was breathing heavily, and the merman was smiling pleasantly. Helga supposed it had been quite awhile since a fair maiden had visited his chambers that he could not resist a kiss.


Helga pointed to the ceiling, and the merman nodded before swimming back below the surface. He sped to the bottom of the pond, then flipped over and began to beat his fin hard and fast against the water. It began to foam on top, and waves were created. He aimed for the surface, arms held above his head, and he shot out of the water like a bullet, rising high into the air and nearly touching the ceiling before bending in the air and grabbing the key. He returned to the water with a quiet splash.


Helga dove under the surface and the merman held the key out to her. Taking it, he said, “Hurry, maiden, for you do not have much time left in these waters.” Nodding, Helga took the key and swam quickly to the door, climbed onto the platform that rose out of the water, pushed the key into the lock, and opened the door.


Helga walked into an encircled arena. It had stone walls and floors. The entire room was bleak and grey, nothing extraordinary. Helga crossed her arms over her magically dried chest, studying the room around her. Something was wrong. Nothing was moving. The only sound was the squeak of her shoes.


Just as Helga reached the middle of the room, however, she heard the sound of clanking metal, and looked to where it was coming from. Then she saw it; rising from the floor right next to the exit door, a dark grey and smoky badger. Helga stopped in her tracks. What on earth was a badger doing here, and chained, at that? Was the badger a coincidence? More than likely not, she reasoned.


Lifting her wand, Helga slowly approached the smoking badger, noting how he was indeed a solid creature, but looked more of a ghost. He resembles my patronus, Helga thought as she drifted closer.


Just as she came into reach of the badger, he screamed a horrible sound, baring his black teeth and launching himself at Helga. She did the first thing she could think of and yelled, “Protego!” An invisible barrier cut the badger short, and Helga was able to scramble away before her shield faded. The badger struggled against his chain, and Helga found that it allowed him to come as far as the center of the arena. Looking back behind her, she saw there was a similar chain beside the door she had just come through.


Thinking fast, Helga knew she would somehow have to place the evil-looking creature on the chain from the door she had just passed through if she was ever going to be able to reach the next door. The only way to do that would be to battle the creature in front of her, who was straining against his metal collar. Helga squared her shoulders and turned her wand onto the badger. She would need to get him out of his collar to be able to place him in the other chain set.


“Alohomora,” Helga cried, and the collar fell with a loud clank. The badger, realizing he was free, bared his hideous fangs and charged straight for Helga, who understood, with horror, that she should have knocked him unconscious before unlocking his collar. The wicked badger was almost upon her before Helga yelled, “Expelliarmus!” The badger was blasted off his feet and flew through the air before he hit the wall. He was up in a flash, though, and running for another attack. Helga began yelling spell after spell, but nothing seemed to work to end his many oncoming and seemingly never-ending charges.


Then, Helga thought of a new idea. Aiming true, she thought of the happiest memory she could, and an image of the night she had shared her first kiss with Godric blossomed into her head. “Expecto Patronum!”


A huge badger, blindingly white, flew out of her wand and laid his unblinking eyes on his opponent. Without a single word from Helga, her patronus ran straight for the other badger and began tearing at him, his great white claws boring into the other’s hide, his sharp teeth tearing at every available spot. Loud, animalistic shrieks filled the stone room, echoing off the cracking walls as the terrible badger was ravaged.


After a few moments, the enemy badger moved no more, and slumped to the floor in a state of unconsciousness. Helga called her patronus off, but she was sorry to see him go. She would have liked the company, as she was sure her journey was only half over. Cautiously, she approached the black badger on the floor and levitated his body to the other set of chains, before encasing his bloody neck into the metal collar. That done, she wiped her hands on her black robes and proceeded to the door, wondering tensely what horrors would await her in the room to come.


Helga stood transfixed in the middle of the room. This room could not hold any horrors. It was too beautiful. The walls were black, ebony, but looked like velvet and shimmered like they were laced with a million stars. Helga’s eyes were dazzled, and she never wanted to look away. Slowly, she walked over to one of the walls, anxious to touch the beauty that resembled the night sky. When she reached it, however, she saw that the black velvet had transformed into a mirror. The glistening diamonds remained, but not their soft background. Looking closer, Helga gasped.


Inside the mirror, she could see the smiling faces of her family. All of them, all gazing at her with happy expressions. She could feel pricks of tears forming in her eyes, and she willingly let them fall, for they were tears of joy. How long had it been since she had last seen the dimpled smile of her mum? Or the dark brown eyes of her Da? And behind them stood all of her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, the many cousins. How had they all gotten behind this mirror? she wondered. Was this where the veil led to?


But then…she should see Godric. And there he was, at the back of her family, standing tall and proud. His long red hair was in its usual ponytail, and his brown eyes danced at the site of her. Helga began sobbing uncontrollably, pressing herself against the mirror, willing it to disappear and allow her to be with the ones she loved the most.


As if the sparkling mirror had heard her request, it evaporated, and Helga’s family started poring into the glittering room, surrounding her and wrapping her in hugs. Her face was stained with tears as she hugged her mum and Da as hard as she could. They told her how much they had missed her.


Standing silently in the back, Helga looked at Godric. He had a small smile on his lips, and his freckled arms hung loosely at his side, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. When Helga locked eyes with him, she gave a shout of euphoria and charged as fast as she could into his arms. She was crying tears of love, and soaking his robes as he kissed the top of her head, running his hands through her curls. Her family stepped back and smiled, the younger kids snickering, at the happy reunion. Stepping back, Helga held his eyes before he claimed her mouth for his own, much to the cheers of her family.


When the couple broke apart, her family crowded around them, urging Helga to stay with them in the room. Helga felt the air rush out of her. She knew she must go on, but she felt as though she would gladly never leave this room again for as long as she lived. But there was no way she could survive. She had no food, no water. She felt Godric’s hand on her arm as he pulled her a ways off.


“You must continue forward, Helga,” Godric whispered, casting glances at the large group of people around them. “You cannot stay here.” He looked pained to tell her this, but she knew he was right.


“I talked to you, through the veil,” Helga said. “You told me to let my heart guide my way.”


“And so it has. Yes, I visited the Veil Room, and now I am visiting the Mirror Room, for I am your messenger to tell you that you must continue on your odyssey. There will be no resting places, only a forward way.” His voice was deep, just as she remembered it. Helga’s heart was aching at the site of him again, for he looked the same way he had before he had left this earth. Now, he was just guiding her on before he returned to his afterlife.


Grasping him, Helga whispered, “I love you.”


“I love you too, Helga. Now finish this journey you set your self on finishing.” He took another swift kiss before pushing her toward the door on the other side of the room. Her family begged her to stay with them, but she reminded them that she would see them all again, sometime.


They allowed her to pass, and just as Helga reached the other door, she turned and said, “I love you,” once more, and it was echoed throughout the room. Wiping all the traces of tears away from her cheeks, she turned the handle.


The second after she closed the door, Helga felt a soaring sensation, and she gasped as she felt herself being lifted into the air. Her hair swirled around her shoulders and her eyes were wide with fright. What was happening?


Looking down, Helga almost shrieked. She could see herself, her body, standing right next to the door she had just come from, but her body was not moving. Helga hovered nervously above her body, coming to the conclusion that this must be your soul, or mind, or however you wanted to put it. She tried to glide back into her body, but she couldn’t. There was some sort of barrier blocking her from her body, and nothing she tried, no different angle, would relent. She growled in frustration.


Bending her mind, Helga tried to remember if there was anything she knew of to help in such a situation. She knew that there had to be some sort of charm. Wracking her brain, she tried to remember every charm her mother and father had ever taught her. She should know this, she was best at charms, far better than Rowena, Godric, or Salazar ever were. If only she could remember…


Deciding to think on it, Helga began floating around the room, doing amazing acrobats she knew her body would never be capable of if she were on the ground. She twirled around the room, letting her arms swing in wild circles as she felt the cool air rush around her. She felt so carefree, so light…it must be the way Rowena felt each time she became a raven. A great ugly scavenger, Helga thought venomously.


As she flew lazily on her back, she rose closer to the ceiling and noticed many strange symbols scrolled across it. Thinking back on all of her Greek, Roman, and Latin training, Helga concentrated and began to decipher the cryptic writings.


When in flight or when in wrong,
A guilty conscious rings as a bell gong.
Flight shan’t correct ill deeds,
Only that of which thou heart needs.
Thy seek deep within thine soul,
If wrongs not righted, yours shall pay the toll.
Hence all wrongs have ceased,
Thy mind and body shall coexist in peace.


Helga crossed her legs in midair, not caring one bit about how unladylike it was. She pondered over the writings. The ending she knew had to be talking about how her mind and body had suddenly split apart in the room, but how she did not know. It mentioned ‘wrongs that needed to be corrected’ many times. What wrongs? The only wrongs she had wanted total revenge on Rowena for what she had done to her and Godric. Was that such a sin? Could revenge be so horrible that it could part your mind and body?


Helga sat in midair for a very long time, possibly hours, thinking over the possibility to forgive Rowena. That seemed to be the only way she would be able to reunite with her body. She sucked in a breath. She knew that if she searched for it long enough, she could find forgiveness in herself. Godric had asked it of her, hadn’t he? And she intended to fulfill his wishes.


Helga gulped and said aloud to the room, searching deep within her heart to remember the many happy years she and Rowena had spent together as sisters, before saying, “Rowena, I forgive you.”


In a swirl of rushing air, Helga found herself back on the ground, entombed within her body once more. She lifted a shaky hand and pushed the hair away from her eyes. She guessed some things were stronger than magic, and forgiveness must be one of them.

The next room Helga entered looked completely blank, void of all feelings. The walls were a grey, rocky and badly hewn. The floor and ceiling were of the same rock. When Helga closed the door behind her, she watched it immediately mold into the wall and disappear. Looking ahead, Helga expected to find the next door.
But there wasn’t one.
Helga gazed about the room, searching for an elusive door. There had to be a door, there was always a door! Helga could feel herself becoming frantic and began to take deep, calming breaths. There was something about this room that made her feel claustrophobic, as if there wasn’t enough air to supply her thirsty lungs.
The walls were moving in. Helga noticed it in a flash and could feel the panic coming back full blast. The walls were creeping slowly together, and there wasn’t a door.
Helga! she screamed to herself. You’re a witch; use your bleeding common sense! Taking a few gulps of air, Helga began pacing the perimeter, noting each time she made a lap there seemed to be fewer walking space. After a few minutes, she hurriedly took out her wand and exclaimed, “Point Me!”
The thin strip of wood spun in her hand and pointed straight ahead of her, through the wall she had just passed through. That meant that the door had to be on the opposite wall. She quickly scuttled to it and began muttering spells and ancient Latin tongues under her breath. She knew the door was here somewhere, she just had to find it. She ran her hands over the wall, not caring in the slightest when they turned ruby red from being rubbed raw.
The walls were drawing closer.
Helga could feel her breathing speeding up. There wasn’t much time left, and there were few spells she hadn’t yet used. Sweat was streaking down her brow and into her eyes, making the orbs burn dully. The air was getting hotter. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to think.
Finally, a gold outline appeared in the center of what was left of the wall. Crying out in relief, Helga screamed, “Alohomora!” The door opened a crack and Helga threw her body against the stone, pushing it open inch by inch. Just as the walls were nearly upon her, she was able to fit her average body through the door. Crying into her hands, Helga could feel her hysteria slowly leak out of her.
She had made it.
The room Helga entered next was unlike any she had seen so far. The walls were clad in a soft golden paper, and there was a cozy, roaring fireplace. The rug on the floor felt fluffy beneath her feet, and was sewn in red and gold. The warm colours instantly made her drowsy. In front of the fire sat a large, squashy armchair. It looked almost overly stuffed, with cotton leaking out of a few various holes. The chair was so inviting, almost beckoning her to it. Her eyes were getting heavier, and she let herself drift to the chair. She had been walking for such a long time, after all. She thought she deserved a break.
Climbing into the chair, Helga let herself succumb into its squishy folds, allowing it to wrap around her like a blanket. The fire felt so good on her skin, she wondered how she would ever leave. There wasn’t anything she wanted more than to fall asleep and never wake up again in this comfortable chair.
Letting her eyes fall shut, Helga had just begun to snooze when a loud voice jerked her from her sleep. She lifted her heavy eyelids and gazed around before her gaze stopped on the fire. There, staring out at her, sat Rowena Ravenclaw. And for the first time in two weeks, Helga didn't feel the bitter taste of hatred on her tongue. All she felt was peace.
“Helga…” Rowena’s voice came out slowly, garbled. Helga shook her head and found her hearing was dull, like she was underwater. She shook her head harder and opened her eyes to their fullest extent. Rowena really was there, staring hopefully out of the fireplace.
“Rowena…what are you doing here?” Helga asked, her voice still muffled from sleep.
“I don’t know why exactly, but I had a feeling that I would find you here. I just wanted to ask…if you are able to forgive me for what happened…” Rowena’s voice shook with uncertainty. Helga could see tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. She could feel tears in her own eyes as well.
Pushing herself out of the chair, Helga knelt down by the fireside and looked Rowena in the eye before saying, “I forgive…but why did you do it?”
Rowena sighed in relief, and Helga could tell she was happy. Helga herself felt as though a weight had been lifted off of her heart. She stared into Rowena’s black orbs before the head in the fireplace sighed again and answered, “Because I thought you were stealing Godric away from me. I know it was incredibly petty, and that I should have asked it of you. I know now I have ruined what could have been between you and Godric. When the two of you would wander off, I would be consumed with so much jealousy, and I would confide in Salazar. I think…”
“That Salazar was in love with you,” Helga finished, nodding. Tears were blossoming from behind her brown eyes. “You thought that by confiding in him, he would talk to Godric and put a stop to what we had, but he ended up taking it too far.”
Rowena nodded and the both of them cried and apologized profusely. When the two had dried their tears, Rowena said, “You must continue on, Helga. What it is you seek lies just a tad bit further. Do not be strayed off the task.”
Helga knew she could not return to the chair that was waiting just behind her, and knew it had been placed there to lure her away from her task. She didn't even know if there was a task anymore, seeing as she wasn't set out for murder anymore. Maybe her task had been all along to forgive Rowena. Nodding, Helga climbed to her feet and made her way to the next door.
The pressure was immediate. It was hard, lung-collapsing pressure. Helga couldn’t breath, she felt as though her lungs had been expelled of all air. Her eyes were being pushed back into their sockets. She was surrounded by darkness, so black she couldn’t even see her own hand. Helga tried to breathe, but there wasn’t any air to take in. She began to panic.
Lurching backwards, she tried to fumble with the door, but she found that there is no door. There was no way she could escape this room; this room where she would surely die.
I’m going to die, Helga thought, panic completely taking over her mind. She tried to run forward, but found that she was unable to move anymore. Suddenly, a noise just to her left caught Helga attention, and she was able to struggle forward toward it. She wasn’t frightened in the least. She just wanted an escape. Reaching out, she felt the cool sensation of a glass bottle. She wanted to cry, but her eyes were pushed so far back into her skull she wasn’t even able to blink, let alone shed tears. How on earth was she going to be able to survive for more than a few minutes? Had she forgiven Rowena for nothing? Had she embarked on this underground journey just to reach the possibly last room to die?
Gripping the bottle as tightly as she could, she could feel the pressure around her growing harder. Her hands were slicked with sweat, and the bottle slipped. Throwing herself to the ground, Helga began to fumble in the darkness. She couldn’t understand why, but she knew that she needed that bottle.
Just as she was about to give up hope and allow herself to sink into an eternal blackness, her sticky palms gripped the glass, and she squeezed it so hard…it broke.
Immediately, she felt the pressure grow slightly stronger before easing away completely. Standing up, Helga took in great gulps of air, filling her lungs so full she felt they may burst. Looking around, she found that she was in another room, and relief washed over her. As much as she would rather be out of these catacombs, she would rather find herself in another room than be dead.
Standing in front of her were two tunnels. One branched off to what she supposed was north-west, while the other snaked north-east. Raising her wand, Helga muttered the point spell and it swiveled to face the north-west tunnel. She knew this had to be the right one. Never had her wand led her astray. Walking briskly, Helga entered the tunnel and felt a familiar rushing sound in her ears. She felt a familiar feeling, as though she was being pressed through a long rubber tube, before she fell upon the grass.
Long, thick, sweet grass filled her nostrils. It was damp, meaning it was surely nighttime. Helga could sense a cool breeze dancing above her head, and she lifted her face to the wind. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, Helga saw that she was standing near the lake to her home, Hogwarts, and standing in front of her was a black haired maiden, tall and willowy. Lurching across the ground, Helga launched herself at the woman, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug before kissing both of her cheeks. The woman laughed gaily and returned the greeting. The two began crying tears of joy before locking hands and walking up the hill toward the castle.
Helga’s journey, she knew, had taught her more than the arts of killing, which was what she had been after. It had taught her the meaning of forgiveness. She had truly found what she had been looking for in those many rooms. And although the hurt would always be there, Helga knew she would slowly be able to move past it. And that was a journey worth taking.