It was nigh on forty years since Cliona Morfessa had visited a carnival. She had been young then. Well, relatively speaking, in her early thirties, a handsome rather than beautiful woman, deep black hair cascading down her back, robes richly embroidered, jewellery expensive family heirlooms.
Now the jewellery was the same, glittering against robes that were obviously old and worn, altered to accommodate the loosening figure of the much older woman whose hair still bore vestiges of the raven black that now wove in amongst the iron grey and silver streaks. Cliona didn't care; she considered herself a cut above most other witches and wizards, didn't bother to even speak to them for the most part once she'd picked herself up from the portkey and imperiously thanked the young wizard who held out a hand to help her to her feet grunting from the strain of almost lifting the old woman.
Then the fun had begun. Cliona had petted the baby crups and watched the dragon flying display, sampled the Dragon Whisky and eaten ice cream containing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Then she'd handed the half-eaten ice cream to a passing toddler when she'd discovered a sweat-flavoured bean that she hadn't fancied. Some more Dragon Whisky had taken away the taste and now she approached the Hall of Mirrors. Her deep green dress robes, utterly inappropriate for the occasion, reflected in a mirror that made her look taller and somehow younger than she really was.
Cliona liked the idea of a mirror that made her look young again, so she walked to the entrance without hesitation, paid her sickles to the young man who was surely no more than a halfblood from the looks of the dirt behind his ears, and then entered.
The confusion caused by a maze of oneself reflected in different forms was largely lost on the Irish witch. Given that she spent much of her life confused anyway, she simply held out a hand and touched each mirror in turn as she approached it, before choosing a new direction at random. She came across a mirror that made her look short and fat, and she firmly told it to f*** off before turning away, only to find one that somehow made her and her entire background look orange. Nice. Cliona sat down in front of that one and admired it for an hour or so.
An announcement broke her out of her reverie, but the words were incomprehensible. It repeated again, and then finally, "Ladies, Gentlemen and children, we regret to announce the Hall of Mirrors is temporarily closed due to a wardrobe malfunction. Those of you who are able, please make your way to the exit, if not please do not panic, we will shortly be dropping in case packages of food and water and hopefully will be able to get you out within a week or so."
Well, that all seemed fair enough. Cliona stood up and looked expectantly at the sky, hoping there would be some of that lovely Dragon Whisky in her package when it arrived.
