Long Lost

Simon

Penny and Shepard stayed over for a few hours helping to come up with a game plan and just catching each other up on our lives in general. A lot can happen in two weeks when you’ve been ignoring your best friend. I’m glad that Penny doesn’t seem too mad about me leaving. About our apartment. We didn’t really talk about that. About how I just left, how I have a new apartment, how… I don’t think I’ll be going back to our old one. But maybe that's for the best, it seems like she and Shepard are getting along swimmingly. He’s been staying in my old room. I think that's a lot better than it just sitting empty. 

Penny also brought us up to speed on what's been happening in the trial with Smith Smith-Richards and what's being done with all the new Chosen Ones that have been cropping up. Her mother, Headmistress Bunce, is in the thick of the proceedings. A ban has been placed on Smith-Richards’ spell. We still don’t know what will happen to the people the spell was used on or to their magic. As far as they can tell it doesn’t look like they’ll be getting their powers back. Jamie was the first person the spell was used on when the magic was the least stable, and he hasn’t felt even an inkling of magic come back to him. A spell that could take away another mage’s magic permanently is unheard of. It’s blasphemous. The local paper hasn’t been treating Smith kindly. 

So far, the other Chosen Ones are just being left alone. Many of them didn’t have as many followers as Smith-Richards in the first place and if they did they lost them in droves after what happened at the White Chapel. It seems to me that the position of “Chosen One” is cursed. It sure didn’t treat me well and it doesn’t seem to have done Smith any favors. I still don’t know why anyone would really want the title.

I haven’t really been letting myself think about it. “It” being the fact that Smith used his spell on me. I didn’t have any magic when he used it on me, so I had no magic to use up. I’m still not quite sure why that means magic is useless against me now. I don’t like how being immune to magic makes me feel. It makes me feel like I’m sucking up the magic around me. Like the Humdrum.

I wonder what it felt like for him. To suck up all the magic of an area and make it… disappear? We never really learned what he was doing with the magic he took. If he could use it. Or if he was just like a black hole, sucking it up into an unknown place, unable to use the magic himself.

 I think that's what I am. A black hole. Something about me just voids the magic used on me. I don’t know how it feels for the magic users, the people using the spells on me. Baz and Penny haven’t said anything about it. They haven’t told me it feels like I'm siphoning away their magic. I wonder if they would tell me if it did or if they could even tell if that was what was happening. I guess it wouldn’t feel much different than the exertion they usually feel when doing a spell. Well, whatever the case is, they are definitely not allowed to do any magic on me now. It’s not like it would do anything anyways. I hope. 

This train of thought has left me feeling antsy, and caged in. Baz left after Penny and Shepard to make a run to the store. He said we weren’t allowed to live off of leftover cakes and sandwiches. I think that's bullocks and that I could happily survive off of them for the rest of my life, especially with the addition of sour cherry scones. Actually, scratch the other two, I could live off of the scones alone. I wander over to where my new sword is placed against the wall beside the couch. Baz had the foresight to move it off of the couch before our guests came over. He also told me that a couch is no place for sharp weaponry and that we had just bought this couch and he’d really appreciate it if I didn’t stab any holes in it. I debated stabbing the sword into it and leaving it there since he wouldn’t be able to pull it out himself, the sword being an Excalibur for the Salisbury bloodline. But I didn’t think he’d find it as funny as I would, so I didn’t. 

I pick it up and the hilt is cold in my grip. I haven’t really closely examined the blade yet, though I have swung it around a few times. Baz said I wasn’t allowed to sword practice on his side of the room, but he said it with a smile. I think he was glad to see a bit of the old Simon resurfacing. I hold the sword out in front of me and get a good look at it. It's a basic long sword with a gold hilt. The pommel is inlaid with a red stone, maybe a ruby or a red sapphire. I wonder if Baz would be able to identify it, he seems the type to know about precious gemstones. I test out a swing and slice the blade through the air. It feels perfectly balanced for me, like an extension of my arm. I wonder if the blade is spelled to be suited to its wielder or if it is just a good sword in general. 

I run through a few more drills and the weight of a sword in my hands makes me feel more sure of myself. I’ve lost so much in the past year and I’ve changed as well. I lost my magic. I lost my mentor. I lost my Chosen One title. I gained wings and a tail. I gained Baz. I also almost lost him. I did lose my sword. My old one, the one The Mage gave me. I guess it could still be with me, nestled at my side. But it doesn’t come when I call it so there is no way to know. I found my parents. 

 I let myself get lost in my swordsmanship and practice trying to control my tail alongside my sword. I think if I could find a way to control it enough in battle it could be just as useful as a sword itself.

Baz

When I walk in, Snow is practicing his swordsmanship in the living room. He must be caught up in his thoughts because he doesn’t notice me right away. I take the moment to openly gaze at him. His bronze curls are still tousled from being manhandled by him earlier, he’s not wearing a shirt (he probably wanted to let his wings out more freely and it’s not like I mind), and his grey joggers are loose fitting to make room for his tail. He has to wear them so low that I get a good view of his happy trail. Again, I don’t mind. 

After I’ve gotten my fill of watching Snow practice with his sword, I close the door behind me and make my way toward the kitchen to put down the bags of groceries. The sound of the door closing seems to break through whatever thoughts he’s been lost in and he puts down his sword to come and greet me. 

“No, don’t stop me for me. You know how much I like to see you with a sword, and shirtless no less.” I say, taking the groceries out of the bag and placing them on the counter. I like to see all the groceries placed out first so I can put them away in order of where they belong. 

“Careful, Baz. I might think you’re hitting on me.” Snow jokes and Circe is he smirking at me? He is. Snow begins picking up groceries and putting them away. Well. There goes my system. But the help is appreciated. He’s still breathing hard from his sword practice and his skin is flushed pink from exertion. He’s just starting to lose the tan he got in America but since summer is almost upon us his freckles are out in full force. I take a moment to lean over and kiss him on the shoulder where the most freckles seem to be congregated. 

“Oh no. That would be horrible. Whatever would you do?” I breathe out on his neck. He tenses up for a moment and then moves quickly. One moment he’s beside me and the next he’s in front of me, arms around me and lifting me onto the counter.

He’s breathing heavier now and it's much more obvious because he’s right in my face. It only takes him a second to bridge what room is left between us before his lips are on mine and his arms on either side of me on the kitchen counter pinning me in place. It all happens so fast that my arms are stuck between us soI slowly slide them out and wrap them around his waist, tugging him closer between my legs. 

Snow has always been a bit of a force when he kisses me. It feels like he’s trying to suck all of the air out of my lungs. He kisses like the goal of kissing isn’t the kissing itself but to make sure it's the last thing we ever do. Like he can’t bear to stop kissing me so we might as well make it so good we die in the moment.

I’m not against the idea. I do think dying kissing Snow would be a hell of a way to go, but I’d much rather stay alive to kiss him again than die now, snogging on a kitchen counter. So I dig my fingers into his sides and pull him back so that we can have a moment to breathe. 

He’s still standing between my legs when he makes eye contact with me, breathing in deeply when he says “if I thought you were hitting on me… I’d kiss you like that.” 

“Well in that case. Hey there, handsome, come here oft-” I don’t even have time to finish my cheesy pickup line before he’s kissing me again.

~

Snow is on his stomach laying sideways in bed, his head resting on my stomach. One of his hands is outstretched and is playing with my hair. It’s nearly shoulder-length now and I think I might cut it soon. His left wing is outstretched while his right one is half-cocked so that he can rest comfortably in my lap without hitting me in the face. He seems to be getting better control over them as time goes on. I run my hand down the length of his right wing, following the curve where it’s folded, and rest where it meets his back. He’s sitting so that his back muscles are very noticeable. I trace them with my fingers for a moment and when he shudders I stop. He’s not the biggest fan of gentle feather-like touches. I decide to just keep my hand still on the spot between his shoulder blades.

He turns his head to look at me and some of his curls fall blocking his face. I brush them aside with my hand and he leans into my touch. “Baz, what does it feel like when you use magic on me?” he asks, letting my hair fall between his fingers.

“What does it feel like?” I repeat, not quite knowing where he’s going with this. It doesn’t really feel like anything. He nods so I answer, “not much. It just feels like I’m doing a normal spell except that nothing comes of it. Why?”

He seems to let out a sigh of relief. “It doesn’t feel like… your magic is going anywhere? Like more of it is being taken than it should?” 

“No. At least I don’t think so. Does it feel like it's going somewhere for you? Are you feeling magic again?”

“No… no. It’s nothing like that. I don’t feel anything. Sometimes I think I do. But whenever I try even a small spell nothing happens. Maybe I was just so used to feeling magic at my fingertips that I have a kind of phantom feeling for it?”

“I don’t know, " he continues. "It all just reminds me a bit of the Humdrum and how he sucked up magic. We never knew where it went. Just that it was gone. I thought that maybe that was happening to me. When Headmistress Bunce looked me over in the office she said I was like my own personal magic dead zone. I think it was a joke, but the idea stuck with me.” He’s not looking at me when he says it but as he finishes he turns his blue eyes to me and we make eye contact. 

“Simon... You were not the Humdrum.”

“I know I wasn't. But I also kinda was. I mean. I created him, didn’t I?” he lets his hand fall to my chest and I grab it with the hand not resting on his back. I give his hand a squeeze and he squeezes back.

“I suppose you could say that. But you also didn’t know that you created him. No one did. You were the first person to figure it out, and when you did, you fixed it.” I try to reassure him. We’ve talked about this a few times and Snow never seems to really listen. He can be so bullheaded, especially when he knows I’m right but doesn’t agree with me. 

He hides his face in my stomach and mumbles something that I can’t quite hear. “What? You can’t talk into my stomach if you want me to be able to hear you,” I tell him, moving my hand from his back to his head so I can play with his hair. 

He turns and leans further into my touch. “I asked if you’d still love me if I was the new Humdrum.” He’s nearly pouting when he says it. 

“Simon, darling. I loved you when you were the Chosen One. I loved you with magic, and I love you without it. I even love the Snow that has wings and a tail. I think it's safe to say I’d love you no matter what you are.” 

He lets out a slow and shaky breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. I think I’ll be okay with whatever I am as long as you still love me.” 

Simon

I’ve been on the phone for ten minutes. Or rather, I’ve been trying to be on the phone for ten minutes. The estate attorney hasn’t answered the phone yet. I think this attempt number five? I plop down on the couch in frustration and flick the business card away from me. It doesn’t go very far and lamely flutters down at my feet. I sigh loudly as my phone tells me “the person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this-” I hang up before it can complete the message and let my arm that was holding my phone go limp on the couch next to me.

“Any luck?” Baz asks from his spot at the kitchen table. 

“Nah, but I guess it is a Sunday. He probably doesn’t take business calls on the weekend.”

“Well, we can always try again tomorrow. Maybe we could start somewhere else. Lady Salisbury said that your mother attended Watford. Maybe we can find something about her there? Even if we don’t get information that leads to what happened to her, we could still find something about her time at Watford.” Baz offers. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I wanted to visit her portrait in the catacombs anyways. We could bring some flowers for your mum while we’re there too.” It’s as good of a place to start as any. Maybe we can find some photos of her in the old yearbooks. I wonder what she was like in school. If she played any sports or was in any clubs. I didn’t really have time for any extracurriculars besides being the Chosen One. I wonder what clubs or sports I would have done if I hadn’t been so busy with The Mages' quests. 

~

When we pull up to Watford Baz parks next to what is now recognizably Niahm’s car. She must be here with Agatha herding and caring for the goats. I’m glad that someone has taken up Ebbs's old job. I bet she’s happy that someone is taking care of the herd. The goats must be pleased with the arrangement as well because it seems like they’ve decided to stay at Watford.

I’ve changed into one of Baz’s old football shirts, spelled to fit my wings. Waterford is one of the places where I can openly have them out. Students tend to stare at them and whisper amongst themselves. Some professors do too. I got plenty of stares before the wings and tail just by being the Chosen One so it’s not really anything new. 

I haven’t talked to Agatha much since we got back from America. Honestly, we haven't really talked since The Mage tried to kill her. I think she and Niamh are dating now, or at least that's what Penny says. I hope Niamh makes her happy. She deserves to be happy after dating me. Not like I think dating me was horrible or anything but she clearly wasn’t happy while doing it and I wasn’t the best boyfriend. Being a good boyfriend is a newly acquired skill for me. 

Baz has come around to my side of the car and he takes my hand in his. He’s dressed up a bit today, I think because he’s visiting his mum. Not that Baz really needs a reason to dress up, he likes looking his best for any occasion. He’s wearing another one of his floral button-up dress shirts but this one is a shiny all-black material with black embroidered flowers on it. He’s left the top two buttons undone and he’s paired it with a pair of black slacks. The only real color in his outfit is his dress shoes which are more of a red-tinted black than anything. Merlin. He looks like the most stereotypical vampire you’ve ever seen. He looks hot. 

He notices me staring and raises an eyebrow at me. He’s infuriatingly hot. No man should look this good, truly. “Shall we?” he asks, gesturing with our combined hands at the fields surrounding the campus. “I thought maybe we could take a walk around for old-time sake before we visit the catacombs. Maybe walk around the ramparts?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice. I want to visit Ebb’s grave while we’re here too. I hear they buried her in The Wavering Woods.” I say, tugging him along as I start walking on one of the many deer trails that wind around the campus. Well, I guess “goat trail” might be more appropriate. 

As we walk along I can hear the goats bleating. They’re surrounding two figures in the distance begging for attention. “Must be Agatha and Niamh,” I comment, shading my eyes to try and get a better look. “We should go say hi.”

“I’m sure they’ll love that. Niamh seems like a real people person.”

“Oh yeah. And you’re a real social butterfly,” I laugh, poking him in the side playfully. 

“I’ll have you know plenty of people think I’m perfectly pleasant to be around. You were one of the only acceptions to that before you got your head out of your arse and realized you loved me.” 

We’re getting closer to Agatha and Niamh so I decide to stop bantering with Baz. For their sake, not his. I don’t think Agatha needs to see me being all gushy with my boyfriend while she’s hanging out with her new girlfriend. 

“Hey, Agatha! Niamh!” I say greeting the pair and nodding my head toward Niamh. I think she’s mad I didn’t go through with my wing removal surgery. She was really looking forward to dissecting them. Sometimes I think I’ll still go through with it, but I’ve kind of grown attached to them. 

“Simon? Hey. What are you guys doing here?” She inquires. She’s bent over and petting a goat that won’t seem to leave her alone. It’s kind of an odd sight to see. Agatha refused to visit Ebb with me when we were students and claimed she hated the goats. I guess she had a change of heart. She lifts one hand from the goat to wave hello to Baz. He nods back in return.

“We’re looking for information on my mother. And visiting Baz’s mum. Her flowers probably need replacing.”

“Your mother?” She looks confused. I guess she hasn’t talked to Penny yet or maybe Penny just didn’t tell her. “Yeah. I actually found out recently when I reconnected with my family. My mom was Lucy Salisbury. I… I guess The Mage was my father too.” It still feels weird to say it. Finding out I’m The Mage’s son carries a lot of baggage both personally and politically. 

Agatha seems to let out a gasp and her eyes go wide. She pulls her bag off her shoulder and starts digging through it like she’s looking for something. “Did you say Lucy? Lucy Salisbury?” 

“Yeah, did your family know her?”

“No… But Penny’s mum and Lucy were friends. She was friends with both of them. The Mage too I mean. I talked to her about it once, when I took this.” She’s stopped searching her bag and is pulling out a piece of paper. She holds it out to me and I realize it’s a photo. 

I take it in my hands and am greeted by what looks like a younger version of Headmistress Bunce, The Mage, and the pretty blonde woman from the crying painting in the catacombs I now know to be Lucy. The Mage has his arm around her and they’re both smiling. Professor Bunce looks like Penny did at this age. She looks happy too. I didn’t know she was ever friends with The Mage. 

I realize I’ve been staring at the photo for a while and everyone has been standing around in silence. “Sorry I…  just. Haven’t seen a photo of The Mage since… anyways. Here” I say holding the photo back out to her. 

“No. No, you keep it. I think you need it more than me right now anyways.” I’m not really sure what she means by that but I’m grateful to have a photo of my parents. To have a photo of Lucy.

“Thanks. I appreciate it” and I really do. I slip the photo into the back pocket of my jeans because I think it will get creased there the least. 

We catch up for a while but eventually, Agatha and Niamh need to get back to Dr. Wellbelove’s clinic. I ask if they know where Ebb’s grave is and they point us in the right direction. 

Ebb’s resting place is befitting to her. It’s in a green clearing of The Wavering Woods and sunlight filters down on her headstone. It’s already covered in moss and creeping plants. I think that’s from the local dryads adorning her grave. They always had a soft spot for her. 

It also looks like someone has recently brought her flowers. Maybe it was Agatha. I don’t think Nicodemus is allowed on campus and I’m not sure who else would have left them. 

I reach into my front pocket and pull out a small plastic goat. I saw it in one of those capsule machines when we were in America. It was a bunch of different farm animals and when I saw it it reminded me of how I used to bring Ebb various knickknacks of various goats or sheep for Christmas. I bought it before I remembered I wouldn’t be able to give it to her for Christmas this year. 

I kneel down and place the goat at the foot of her headstone. “I hope you’re resting easy, Ebb. Did you know that your brother is engaged? He’s marrying Baz’s aunt, Fiona. I guess that means if Baz and I were to get married, he’ll be my uncle. It’s kind of funny because I’ve always considered you as my aunt.”

“We’re actually here to try and find out more about my mum. She was a student at Watford and I want to see if there are any records of her time here. But I wanted to check in and say hello to you. I miss you.” I clear my throat as I start to get choked up. 

“The goats miss you too. They were so sad when you died that they almost left. I think you’d be pleased with how Agatha and Niamh have been taking care of them.” I continue, standing up and straightening my legs out. “It’s been nice talking to you again, Ebb. I’ll visit you again soon, ‘kay?” 

I motion to Baz that I’m ready to head to the catacombs when he says “you go on ahead I’ll catch up to you in a minute, I wanted a moment to speak alone with Ebb,” I didn’t know that Baz had any feelings towards Ebb. The only time we’d ever talked to her he hadn’t seemed very impressed. But if he wants to talk to her alone, I’ll let him. 

Baz

I wait a moment to hear Snow’s footsteps get a bit further away and then I bend over to remove some of the moss that’s begun blocking out Ebb’s epitaph. 

“Ebb. I don’t know if we ever talked before you passed but I can tell that you were very important to Snow. To Simon. I wanted to thank you for looking out for him all those years. I think he would have been incredibly lonely if not for you. So thank you. I hope you’re resting in peace.” I wait for a few moments in silence before getting up to follow after Snow. 

Simon

By the time we reach the catacombs we’ve had time to stop off at the school rose garden to gather a few of the best-looking roses we could find. Baz suggested I pick one to place at the portrait of Lucy so I’m carrying a solitary rose stem, spinning it in my fingers absentmindedly while Baz hunts for rats. 

He lets me come with him now, but I’m still not allowed to watch anything but the hunting part. Baz doesn’t like that I find his whole vampire thing kind of hot. I told him “he should stop being so sexy about it then” to which he said, “there's nothing sexy about kissing someone with rat blood in their mouth”. I didn’t tell him that that’s usually something I’m willing to overlook if it means kissing him. He’d probably say I’m disgusting. I don’t know if I could disagree with that either, which is why I won’t bring it up. 

He’s on his fourth rat now, which means he should be good to go soon. My boyfriend is very good at catching rats. Yeah. Okay. Maybe that shouldn’t be as hot to me as it is. I blame it on not having a normal childhood. 

When he’s finished draining the last rat he takes out some hand sanitizer and cleans his hands before holding it out for me to grab. We seem to always be touching in some way. If we’re not holding hands, then our shoulders are touching. If we’re on the couch or in bed then we’re usually draped over each other. When we eat at a table, we’re usually playing footsie under the table. It makes the moments where we’re not touching feel like they’re out of focus. Like everything is fuzzy. I feel more sure of myself with him at my side. In the short amount of time we were together when I still had my magic I felt invincible with him. Now, I’ll settle for feeling safe with him. 

“Is it weird that The Catacombs are kind of our place? We always seem to end up here," I ask him taking his hand in my own.

“We’ve only spent so much time here because you were practically my shadow in our fifth year,” Baz says, rubbing his thumb over my hand. 

“I wish I had known back then that you weren’t just doing vampire things down here and that you were also visiting your mum. I hope I didn’t make too much of an arse out of myself.” Baz and I have done a lot of bad shit to each other since we first met. He pushed me down the stairs. I broke his nose. Man, we hid our feelings for each other in the least healthy ways.

“Mmm. You didn’t know. Besides, I liked that I had you so bothered. We can consider ourselves even for anything that year.” He’s rounding a corner and starts to slow his pace as I trail behind him, still holding onto his hand. I nearly bump into him when he stops dead in his tracks in front of Lucy’s portrait. 

“She’s not crying anymore,” is all that he has to say to get my attention. I step close to the painting and take it in. What was once a moving portrait of my mother with tears running down her face is now a portrait of her smiling, with eyes shining like they’re full of tears that won’t spill.

Huh. I’ve never looked very closely at the gilded frame surrounding the painting, but now that I do I notice how big and bulky it is. I reach my hands towards it, hesitating for a moment before taking it in my hands and lifting it from the wall. A navy wand tumbles out from behind the painting and lands at my feet. I quickly re-hang the painting on the wall and reach down to pick up the fallen wand. The hand grip is carved with intricate swirls and a good few shades lighter than the rest of the wand, most likely from use. It almost turns black towards its tip.

I turn to show it to Baz and he takes it in his hands. “It looks like it might be cedar wood, but it’s hard to tell in this lighting. It’s very well made. I wonder if it was hers?” He asks gesturing with it towards the painting. 

A flash of movement catches my eyes and I notice that the portrait is nodding in answer to his question. “I guess that answers that question,” I mumble in awe. Once I'm looking at the portrait I can't stop.  I’ve passed this painting so many times never knowing it was of my own mother.

I wonder why it’s down here.

I wonder if it means she’s buried down here.

Baz hands me the wand back and leans over to kiss my cheek, “I’ll give you some time alone and go on ahead to say hello to my mum. I’ll meet you back here?” 

“Yeah. Thank you. Say hello to your mum for me, will you?” I respond, grateful that Baz always seems to know what I need. Right now, I want to be alone with my mother, or the closest thing to her. 

I lean forward and pull the rose I picked earlier up from off the ground. I must have dropped it in order to lift the painting off the wall. I carefully tuck it into the frame of her portrait and she beams back at me. 

Simon

Our next stop on our to-do list is checking in with Headmistress Bunce before heading to the library to scour over old yearbooks and newspaper clippings. While we’ve been on campus for the past few hours it feels wrong to not ask permission to enter a school building. The White Chapel is open to anyone allowed on campus as it would be in bad taste to have to ask permission to visit your lost loved ones. 

This is my first time entering the Headmaster's office with the knowledge that its prior occupant was my father. He didn’t spend much time here, he was always off doing something he claimed was for the better of all magickind. I wonder if this is how Baz feels when he comes here. If he can only see it as the place his mother once worked. 

I knock loudly on the door and wait for a response. I don’t know if the room is spelled to still allow Baz and me to enter as it was when the office belonged to our respective parents but I don’t think Headmistress Bunce would enjoy us just barging in regardless. There's some clattering behind the door and when it swings open Headmistress Bunce looks like she’s had a long day. Her hair is frizzy in the back from leaning back in her chair and she has bags under her eyes. I guess the stress surrounding Smith-Richard’s attack at the White Chapel and the ongoing trial have been getting to her. 

“Ah. It's you, boys. I was actually going to contact you soon, Simon. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.” She says, gesturing past her into the room. “Well come in, come in.” 

“I also had something I wanted to talk to you about. Ask you about, rather. We were here to ask permission to look for something in the library but some information came to light and I was hoping you could tell us more. But you should go first, what did you want to share with me?”

We’ve moved to be seated at the large wooden desk that takes up a decent portion of the room. Baz and I are seated next to each other and across from Headmistress Bunce. She has her elbows propped up on the desk and her chin is resting on her clasped hands. 

“There’s been a change in some previous dead spots. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, they’ve been minor. But it’s there. Some of the smallest spots are almost completely healed but they were minuscule to start with.” Baz sits forward in his seat, his arms on his legs in a pose that almost mimics how Headmistress Bunce is sitting. She eyes him carefully before continuing, “large areas, such as your families estate, Baz, have had little to no change. I’m sorry. But that was one of the most recent dead spots to have been made. The changes we’ve been seeing have been largely in older, smaller spots. There could still be hope for your family estate’s magic returning once more time has passed but I can't promise anything.” She’s looking at me now like she’s expecting something. 

Baz leans back in his chair and crosses his legs looking disappointed.

“I wanted to ask if you’ve felt anything change with your magic, Simon.” Ah, there it is. Everyone is so interested in my magic (or lack thereof) these days. 

She caught me off guard with the information on the dead zones. I hadn’t heard that yet. Baz looks surprised too. I don’t want to let myself have hope that that means they’ll all go away, luck rarely is on my side these days.

“No. I mean. I haven’t been able to do any magic. Sometimes I think I feel something, but it’s fleeting at best. It could easily just be my stomach growling or my leg twitching. Trust me, if I had magic I’d have done something about these.” I reply, spreading my wings out behind me and twitching my tail. 

“Of course… I was just curious. Sorry for intruding.” When she says it she actually looks sorry. Magic means so much to Headmistress Bunce so the thought of losing it must be distressful for her. “You had something else you wanted to ask me?” She’s offering a change in topic, and I’m grateful. Headmistress Bunce has never been particularly fond of me but I think I’ve fallen directly into the realm of pity for her so she’s been acting kinder as of late. 

“I wanted to ask you about someone. About my mother. Agatha said you knew her. My father too actually. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about what she was like when you knew her. Her name was Lucy Salisbury.”

Her brown eyes are wide and shiny and all at once she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “Lucy? So you’re her son, huh… I can’t believe I never noticed. And Davy… he must be your father then?”

“Yes, he is. Or. Was”. I still haven’t gotten used to talking about The Mage in the past tense. I’m even less used to referring to him as my father. I still haven’t worked my way through those feelings fully. Maybe I should get back in contact with my old therapist from America.

“I wasn’t the biggest fan of Davy when we were in school or during his stint as The Mage. Oh, but Lucy and I, we were as thick as thieves. The only thing that could get between us was Davy and in the end, he did. We always disagreed about him. Davy was a revolutionary even when we were at Watford. He spun his ideas in golden thread and Lucy fell for them and for him.” She is crying now, but her tears are silent and slow to fall. She takes a moment to wipe them away with her sleeve before continuing.

“We got into plenty of trouble during our years at Watford. Although, not as much as you and Penny did that's for sure. Lucy was smart and a natural at elocution. There wasn’t a spell she couldn’t master. She always gave me a run for my title as head of the class.” 

Headmistress Bunce is about to continue her reminiscing when her phone starts to ring. She takes it out and looks at the caller ID. “I’m sorry, boys, but I really need to take this. You are free to look in the library as much as you like.” She has her phone to her ear with one hand and is motioning us out of the room with the other. 

Just as we reach the door she calls out, “Simon. Don’t be a stranger. Next time you and Penny are at the house let me know. I’m sure I have some old photo albums somewhere I can show you.”

I smile in thanks and follow Baz out the door. 

Baz

It is a wondrous thing to be in a library properly stocked with books. The Mage practically ransacked the place during our time here. It’s nice to see that the new headmistress has set things right. It was always a bit of a joke to have a renowned school with an empty library. 

Snow is nestled in a large armchair, a yearbook from 1993 open in his lap. I offered to use a finding spell as I still have the reading glasses from Lady Salisbury. When we tried to give them back, she refused their return, saying they’d get more use with me. Snow refused, however. I guess his no-magic rule extends to research now. 

So I’m pulling out old school papers from the year's Lucy attended Watford by hand. We haven’t found much in the way of information but we’ve found a few pictures. Snow was just excited about the fourth photo as he was about the first. I like seeing him so happy about something. 

“She was in the astronomy club! She liked the stars like you, Baz! And here she is again! She played on the boys' rugby team!” Snow bursts out, flipping the yearbook around to show me a page featuring the astronomy club of 1993. He doesn’t mention that The Mage is there with her in the photo, so I don’t either. 

We continue on like that, me pulling out various papers and books to hand to him, Snow shouting out and showing me a photo, or reading a blurb of text out loud excitedly when he finds something about Lucy until the sky outside begins to darken. 

It isn’t until his stomach starts loudly grumbling that Snow finally gets up and suggests we pick up some takeout on our way home.