Chapter 5
Arithmancy. Alec rubbed his throbbing temples in frustration. Last night he had been so nervous, that he hardly slept a wink. He wished he could keep his mind on the untouched sheet of paper in front of him or the numerical tables scattered next to it. A strange tingling sensation took hold of his stomach, like a legion of centipedes crawling through his guts. Not even the faint scent of old parchment could soothe him. Alec winced with every chime of the old-fashioned pendulum clock in the corner of the classroom. As the end of the lesson approached, his pulse seemed to quicken. The tutoring session with Magnus Bane left his nerves feeling raw and exposed. He felt as if someone had cast the Imperius Curse on him, forcing him to think of glittering hair and dark, mysterious eyes. How was he supposed to survive the school year at this rate? His hand shook as he dipped his quill into the inkwell, hesitating again. It was virtually impossible to concentrate. In the depths of the dark liquid, he could see the shape of his own mop of hair. He tried to tame the tousled waves, to no avail. When Professor Carstairs walked past his desk, giving him a questioning look, the Hufflepuff felt terribly guilty.
“Is everything all right, Mr Lightwood?” he asked, concerned, and glanced at Alec's empty worksheet. His teacher was wearing the same midnight-blue cloak that he had already worn at the welcome ceremony in the Great Hall. The silvery threads of shimmering celestial bodies and stars were illuminated by the soft light of candles and gleamed as if they had been freshly cut from the night sky. With a furrowed brow, the young teacher leaned on Alec's desk to take a closer look at his notes.
“Of course, sir. I was just a little lost in thought,” Alec replied reluctantly. He certainly had more to worry about this year than an arrogant Slytherin who had decided to make his life difficult. Arrogant, yes, but devastatingly handsome. Sometimes he wondered why his traitorous brain couldn't shut up for a few minutes.
“Let me know if you need any help,” his Arithmetic teacher offered, flashing him a small smile. “That's what I'm here for.” A sleek, silver strand of his prematurely greying hair fell across his forehead. The expression in his dark brown eyes was impossible to read. At times, Alec wondered how old he truly was. The professor seemed like an ancient being trapped in a young body. He was so calm and collected that it was sometimes unsettling. Alec had never heard the teacher raise his voice. He carried himself like someone who bore the burden of great wisdom on his shoulders.
Subconsciously, Alexander tugged at his bandage. To his relief, the wound had begun to heal quite nicely and the pain was barely noticeable. Alec let out a sigh of relief when the clock announced that the lesson was over with a final chime. It then occurred to him what he still had to do this afternoon, inhaling sharply. Interacting with strangers usually reduced him to a pathetic heap of anxiety and self-doubt. Seeing Magnus Bane made the whole ordeal even worse. Alec was at a loss of what to feel. He could not deny that he was attracted to the sparkly Slytherin. But just because he was bloody gorgeous, Alec would not stand for being pushed around and belittled by him.
“Don't forget to do your homework,” Professor Carstairs called to his fleeing students, in the hope that his words would get through to someone. Most of them were in a hurry to get out of the stuffy classroom as quickly as possible.
Alexander threw his satchel over his shoulder and quickly left the room, attempting not to be trampled by the crowd of chattering students. His height gave him quite an advantage, as he loomed over the masses like a solitary watchtower. With caution, he made his way through giggling first-year students, pushed past couples holding hands, and did his best not to knock the books out of anyone's hands.
The large staircase was a particularly big obstacle because Alec's long limbs seemed to keep getting tangled up in themselves. A flood of sensations bombarded his mind: raised voices, the rustling and pattering of hundreds of shoes on the stone floor, the flickering of the glowing torches on the walls and the smell of stale sweat, dusty books and sweet perfume. He was overcome by the feeling of being an oil drop trapped in an ocean of salt water. He would be able to glide on the surface. But would he ever belong? No. No, that was impossible.
Finally Alec had reached the dungeons and leaped over the last step with ease. The cold of the basement welcomed him like an old friend and enveloped him in a mantle of dampness and despair. Alec straightened his uniform and adjusted his bag. There was no turning back now. His traitorous heart hammered in his chest. The walk through the torch-lit corridor to the Potions classroom felt like an eternity. Alec's mouth suddenly went dry. He cleared his throat and extended his trembling fingers towards the door knob. He lanced down the deserted hallway. If Magnus Bane was planning to kill him, no one would hear his screams. That was definitely a very comforting thought. Without further thought, Alec pushed the door open.
“I thought you'd forgotten about me, Lightwood,” Magnus greeted him, throning on Professor Morgenstern's desk, cross-legged. His slender body appeared tense, yet completely at ease, as if nothing could get to him. The glitter on his prominent cheekbones threatened to outshine even the spikes of his hair. The haughty look in his black-rimmed eyes sent a shiver down Alec's spine.
“N-No, of course not,” Alec stuttered, almost choking on his own saliva. “It just took a little longer. Sorry.” He bit his lower lip hard to regain control over his extremities and the gooey pulp in his skull. Tasting blood, he scolded himself. What was wrong with him? Just because Magnus was beautiful didn't mean he would lose his cool.
Moving with the fluid grace of a cat, the Slytherin slid off the smooth tabletop and folded his arms. “Very well.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Damn that deep voice. “Let's get on with it, then.”
“I…” Alec cleared his throat again and pulled a scroll of parchment out of his satchel. “I brought my homework.” Needless to say, he had already completed his essay. He had never had any problems with theory. When it came to brewing potions, however, he was hopeless.
Magnus raised an eyebrow and reached for the essay. “Well then, let's see it, you swot,” he grumbled and examined the scroll critically. He quickly scanned the paper and frowned slightly. Alec hated being judged so openly. Magnus looked up to him, surprise coloring his tone. “Not half bad,” he said, handing the essay back. “Actually, quite good.”
“Thank you?” Alec uttered, a little bewildered, burying his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
“You're welcome.” Magnus' charming smile didn't reach his eyes. “I've spoken to Professor Morgenstern. Since you failed so miserably with your last healing potion, we'll take on that topic today. We'll start with a very simple potion for treating colds. Even you shouldn't have any difficulties with that.”
Alec ducked his head so Magnus couldn't see his cheeks flushed with shame. He wondered why the words cut so deep, burying in his heart like a poisonous thorn. Well, maybe he did know. He had always been too sensitive. Too soft, too emotional. According to his parents, anyway. “Alright.”’Alec replied in a low voice and quickly sat down at a prepared table. Next to an old brass kettle and a heavy tome, the various ingredients were carefully arranged.
“Frowning gives you wrinkles, Lightwood.” Magnus said, rolling up his sleeves. Alec couldn't help but admire the swell of his muscle for a moment. “With my help, you shouldn't have any problems. The instructions are on the page I've opened.” He elegantly took a seat next to Alec and propped up on the table with his elbows. So close to him, he could smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and - was that peppermint? He was pulled out of his thoughts again. "Time to get to work, Lightwood. I don't have all day either."
Alec only managed a weak nod and took a deep breath. He slowly began to work his way through the list of ingredients, trying to ignore the Slytherin's presence. “Water, fire salamander blood, eel eyes, flubberworm slime…” Alec murmured to himself and began preparing the potion. His fingers trembled so much while chopping the dittany that he struggled not to cut off any extremities unintentionally. After he had brought the water to a boil, he began adding the fire salamander blood.
He was about to stir the potion for the fourth time when Magnus grasped his wrist with lightning speed. An electric shock shot through Alec's body and made him flinch. Magnus' fingers had closed firmly around the Hufflepuff's wrist, yet they felt soft and warm on Alec's cold skin.
“Only three times, Lightwood.” Magnus reprimanded him and then slowly withdrew his hand. He tilted his head slightly and studied him with an expression Alec had never seen before. “Are you cold?” Magnus asked gently, almost as if he was concerned about his well being.
“It's all right.” Alec shrugged and lowered his gaze. “I always have cold hands, especially here in the dungeons.” Then he bent down to take a small jar out of his bag. Tiny blue flames danced inside, their light refracted in the glass and casting flickering patterns onto his large palms. Alec let out a quiet sigh as the warmth began to spread through his hands. With closed eyes, he savoured the feeling of heat and comfort for a few seconds. Then he looked up at Magnus, whose expression was as impenetrable as a stone wall. His eyes were fixed on Alec's left hand.
“Why are you still wearing that bandage?” Magnus asked promptly and narrowed his eyes in confusion. He bit his lower lip, contemplating. “Couldn't you just use a spell for that?”
The Hufflepuff winced at the unexpected question. A shadow fell over Alec's pale face. “It's easiest to let some wounds heal without magic.” he whispered, letting his hand drop into his lap.
‘’Can I see?‘’ Magnus asked tentatively, his whole demeanour changing. His dark pupils were slightly dilated, his posture open and relaxed. Alec admired the perfect curve of his long eyelashes, casting spidery shadows on the brown skin. The Slytherin leaned forward a little, clearly interested. “Maybe I can help you.” he purred, his voice velvety soft and deep.
He didn't know what had come over him, but Alec hesitantly held out his arm. Alec's mind went into overdrive. He was losing his footing on the edge of a cliff, seconds from tumbling over the edge. The jagged stones at the bottom of the chasm sang his name in mocking choruses. Every bone would snap like twigs in a storm breeze. Alec was going to choke on the mute screams filling his throat. Drowned in a tide of his own panic, crushed like a brittle piece of chalk.
All he had to do was to shake his head and forget the question. How was he going to explain his cut? More importantly, how was he going to explain that he couldn't heal it with magic? Wasn't allowed to? The extent to which obedience to his parents was ingrained in his flesh, unsettled him. Then again, it was all he had ever known. Who could blame him, given the circumstances?
“I…” Alec swallowed hard and looked around the room in desperation. “I don't know if you really want to see this. It's not particularly exciting.”
Magnus had already begun to carefully unwrap the bandage. This time there was no escape. Layer by layer, the white cloth unwound on the table, like the shed skin of a reptile. The warmth that radiated from Magnus' skin was little comfort. A price Alec was not willing to pay. Perhaps a part of him longed to not be alone anymore. Maybe he craved to be seen.
“Mhhhh.” Magnus tilted his head slightly. Finally, he carefully removed the last piece of cloth, revealing Alec's hand. A thin red line, hardly visible anymore, ran across his fair skin. Alec was relieved to see that the wound had healed well.
“Actually, it was just a small scratch.” the Hufflepuff murmured and withdrew his hand. He could still feel the last remnants of Magnus' warmth on his skin. “It's not too bad.”
“It didn't look like that on the train,” Magnus commented with a sceptical undertone in his voice. Something dark flickered in his eyes for a second. “You could barely bind your tie.” Then he fixed Alec with his intense gaze. “Do you mind if I heal this?”
Yes. Of course Alec minded. Or maybe he didn't. Was the will to obey his father stronger than his self-preservation? Besides, he couldn't refuse. How could he explain wanting to decline this offer? There was nothing left for him to do but to shake his head and surrender to his fate.
“All right.” Magnus's mouth twitched a little and Alec feared his heart might give out. Alec absolutely didn't stare at how his slightly parted lips shimmered in the candlelight. With an elegant swing he drew his wand made of pale wood. Pine perhaps, Alec speculated. With a dramatic hand movement he pointed the tip towards the cut. “Episkey.” Magnus exclaimed in a clear voice.
Warmth spread across Alec's skin, flames were gently licking the edges of his wounds and fusing his flesh together. Only a slight tingling sensation, vaguely reminiscent of cold drizzle, remained. “Thank you.” Alec managed, feeling embarrassed.
“You're welcome.” Satisfied, Magnus leaned forward and examined his work. Not even a scar remained of the wound, Alec's palm was smooth and flawless again. As if to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him, the Slytherin ran his thumb over the newly mended skin. “As good as new.”
Alec gulped, feeling a shiver run down his spine. His destiny had apparently decided to kill him. Fate just didn't seem to favour the eldest Lightwood son. Confusion washed over him, as it had so many times in the last few days. It bothered him that Magnus Bane seemed to have such a strong influence over his emotions. One moment he behaved like an arrogant arsehole and the next he seemed genuinely concerned about him.
Of course, his damned heart had decided to leap at the slightest touch. Even so, Alec had enough self-respect to not let himself get carried away by a simple crush. He had worked too hard to not disappoint his parents, his siblings, his friends, himself. He couldn't afford to let a Slytherin get into his head.
Then something suddenly occurred to him. “Merlin's beard!” Alec exclaimed in shock. His eyes widened as he turned to the contents of the cauldron. By now it had been reduced to a miserable lump of greenish slime.
Thin wisps of white smoke snaked through the air much like the threads of a sticky spider web. A smell not unlike that of melting rubber filled Alec's lungs, making him gag as he covered his mouth with one hand. The Hufflepuff turned to Magnus with the hint of a grim smile on his lips. “What was that again? With your help, I shouldn't have any problems?”
Magnus shot him a venomous look, inspecting the result of their work. “You distracted me. That was hardly my fault,” he snarled. Cautiously, he peered over the edge of the cauldron and promptly started coughing violently when a stray wisp of smoke found its way into his mouth. “There's nothing we can do.” the Slytherin gasped. Sweat formed on his forehead, his eyelids tightly pressed together. “The potion is ruined. We don't have enough time to make a new one either. We'll just have to postpone it until next time.” Magnus sighed heavily and raked through his sparkling black hair. He seemed distressed. It was clear that he wasn't used to failing at such a straightforward task. Who was the shot now? “I really didn't think we'd screw up a simple potion."
“Sorry about that.” Alec apologised softly and met Magnus's gaze. “But it's not entirely my fault.” After all, it had been Magnus's idea to take a look at this palm. Alec retrieved his wand and removed the revolting blob stuck to the bottom of the cauldron. “You were the one who wanted to patch me up.”
“Yes... maybe you're right,” Magnus said thoughtfully. “You know, Lightwood, maybe you're not as terrible as I thought,” he admitted, biting his lower lip. “Maybe I misjudged you.”
“Not as terrible as you thought? What an honour. Do you even realize how condescending you sound?” Alec scoffed, shaking his head. “Even if it's hard to believe, I'm not my parents. Everyone seems to conveniently forget that.”
He shot a furious glare at Magnus. For once, he was going to fight back. He had reached his limit and would not let Magnus get away with treating him like this. Seething hot rage cursed through Alec's body, curling around his bones like heavy iron chains, dragging him along. Remembering the cold night on the astronomy tower burned through the last bit of resistance and he gave himself up to the overwhelming anger.
“I can't choose my family,” Alec spat out with a bitter laugh. “Just because I share their blood doesn't mean I deserve your disrespect or that you can treat me like I'm beneath you. Why do you think you can pass judgement on me, when you don't even know me? You have no idea who I am, because you didn't even bother to get to know me. You just decided that I was a bad person. Probably felt good to insult me every chance you got, didn’t it?” Even Alec was surprised by the outpouring of words that left his lips. “I am tired of you pretending that you are so much better than me. I have put up with your bullshit for far too long, but now I’ve had enough.”
“That...is not what I was trying to say.” Magnus stuttered and suddenly seemed only half as confident as before. A dark red tint had crept onto his cheeks. His mouth hanging open, he just stared at Alec. Shock had widened his eyes so that he resembled a deer in the headlights of a muggle car. “I just…”
“You locked me up in the Astronomy Tower for fun. So stop pretending you've got a pure conscience,” Alec hissed and began stuffing his belongings into his satchel. He frantically tried to stifle the tears that threatened to spill out. His fingers quivered with pent up rage. “I don't need your charity, Bane. Fuck you and your high-and-mighty act. You can stuff your arrogance up your ass, for all I care.”
He stormed out of the dungeon, slamming the door with a deafening thud.