Chapter 7
“How is he?”
“Will he be alright?”
“He needs a lot of rest and quiet right now.”
A soft rustling of fabric and hushed whispers enveloped him in pleasant oblivion for a brief moment. His head lay on something soft. A pillow, perhaps? Alec blinked in confusion. He winced, immediately squeezing his eyes shut again. The lamp overhead gave off a glaring light, searing his conjunctiva. He tried to sit up warily and regretted it immediately. A sharp pain coursed through his right shoulder, as if someone had pressed a red-hot poker onto his flesh. “Fuck!” he gasped in agony letting himself slump back down. The scent of curdled blood and disinfectant washed over him.
“Alec? Alec!” Panic and worry drenched Andrew's words. “Can you hear me? How are you? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?” Why was he here? His thoughts felt muddled and clumsy. They spun threads, tangled, formed knots. Colours faded, blurred. The ache spread through his body like numbing his senses. “I think he needs to rest for now.” Another person. Alec couldn't muster the strength to discern them. Shadows coiled around his ribcage, making every breath a struggle.
“I…” Alec managed weakly and felt exhaustion overcome him. “Just a little more…” he murmured and gave in to the overpowering fatigue. Far, far away, he thought he recognised a familiar voice. Who? Who was that... Who... Finally, Alec gave up his efforts and sank into Morpheus's waiting arms.
*****
When Alexander awoke, the hospital wing was bathed in the golden light of the dying sun. His mouth felt dry, his tongue strangely heavy. It was quiet, almost eerily so. Specks of dust swirled through the air, caught in the sunlight that filtered through the arched windows. His eyes rested on the iron frames of the hospital beds and the taut white linen confining him. A hint of a smile played on his lips as he noticed the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. The sweet scent of the delicate pink dahlias would always remind him of the onset of autumn. Had the world always seemed this bright? His head was swam with the whirl of colors around him, but not in an unpleasant way. He tentatively flexed his shoulder, only to find that the previous pain had all but disappeared. It still felt stiff and sore, but it was nothing compared to the torment it had caused him just a few hours ago.
“I see you're awake, Alexander,” someone stated next to him, not seeming particularly worried. “I didn't expect to see you again this soon, especially under these circumstances.” The deep, smooth voice sent a shiver down Alec's spine. Magnus Bane. The Hufflepuff didn't even bother to hide his surprise. He jolted, almost tumbling from his bed. Why did he have to make such a fool of himself every time he saw Magnus?
“What are you doing here?” Alec asked a touch more harshly than he had intended, snapping his head around to face Magnus.
The latter was sitting next to him, legs crossed, flicking through an old book whose fragile parchment pages crinkled softly. He had swapped his school uniform for a burgundy blouse and tight leather trousers that left no room for the imagination. His brown eyes were framed by dark eyeliner, accentuating their intensity. Alec swallowed, blushing. Hard. He should probably stop being so distracted, even if the top buttons of Magnus's shirt were undone. The whole situation seemed so bizarre that he wondered if he was hallucinating. His body felt far too light, his senses dull and enhanced at the same time.
“I help out here quite often. Normally I just brew the odd potion. Today I was ordered to make sure you don't leave this bed under any circumstances,” Magnus replied nonchalantly and shrugged. “Your friends relay that they didn't leave of their own accord. Catarina threw them out. She's taking a break and resting right now. Until then, I'm responsible for you.”
Alec nodded sympathetically. Madam Loss was known to be very firm when it came to ensuring the well-being of her patients. He himself had only been to the hospital wing once, since he usually tried to heal his wounds by himself to prevent his parents from being notified. After all, he had better things to do than listen to his mother's endless tirades. Just thinking about which consequences this incident might entail made him feel uneasy.
“What happened?” Alec asked, sitting up so that his back was propped against the cool stone.
“Well, as far as I gathered, you were hit by a bludger, darling,” Magnus answered his question with a knowing smirk.
Alec rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile.
“Catarina certainly had her work cut out patching you up: injuries to the shoulder socket, clavicle and scapula combined with a compound fracture, as well as nerve and vascular trauma. Some minor swelling and bruising is unavoidable, unfortunately,” Magnus explained in a more serious tone. Alec thought he detected a hint of concern and sympathy in his voice. Interesting. “Please let me know if you feel any discomfort. Catarina gave you a high dosage of pain medication, so it should be bearable.” Ah, he had copious amounts of painkillers rushing through his bloodstream. The drugs made him feel slightly woozy. That explained a lot. Had Magnus always been this pretty?
“Oh, and before I forget…” Magnus leaned forward and reached for an ivory-coloured bottle that had been obscured by the flowers until now. Its shape reminded Alec of two intertwined human spines. Not exactly reassuring, if you asked him. “Skele-Gro.” Magnus clarified, pouring about half of the potion into a glass.
Alexander eyed the clear liquid suspiciously. “What is this?" he asked, his voice strained. The bitter, pungent smell made his stomach turn and he could only pray that the taste was better than he suspected.
“Drink!” Magnus ordered with a twisted smile on his lips, ignoring his question. He carefully handed the glass to Alec. His warm fingertips gently brushed the back of Alec's hand, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation. Alec decided that he liked tingly things. Like bubble baths. Bubble Baths were very nice indeed. “I'll give you a heads-up. It won't be easy to get this potion down.”
Alec took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. He had eaten Isabells slimy omelette without losing consciousness, so he could also endure this disgusting potion. And how could he resist when Magnus asked him to do it? He emptied the contents of the glass into his mouth, fighting the urge to spit the potion out immediately. The Hufflepuff forced himself to swallow and downed the rest of the potion in one gulp. As soon as he put the glass down, he began to cough, his body resisting the potion as if it were caustic acid. “By...Merlin's beard!” he gasped for air. “That's revolting.”
“What did you expect? Pumpkin juice?” Magnus watched him, shaking his head, and screwed the cap back on. “Catarina wants to make sure that all the bones in your shoulder heal properly. That's why you have to spend the night in the infirmary, as a precaution. Just in case.”
“This stuff really is worse than Izzy's cooking,” he murmured to himself, hoping that the foul taste would soon disappear from his mouth. Alec sighed and looked down at his long, pale fingers, which continued to clasp the now-empty glass. Why was he still holding the glass? Strands of inky black hair fell across his forehead, obscuring the small silver scar on his eyebrow.
He still remembered exactly how proud she had been of her monstrous creation, resembling a greenish-grey ball of slime. Alec just couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was about to throw up. With her bright brown eyes and hopeful smile, she had had him wrapped around her finger since they were children. He had dutifully eaten the whole meal and had even managed a smile at the end. After that incident, he always happened to have something important to do whenever Isabelle felt like cooking.
“Right, Isabelle Lightwood is your sister.” Magnus nodded thoughtfully and tilted his head, as though he were trying to size Alec up. Of course he knew Isabelle. Everyone did. She was well-liked, known for her daring outfits and her big heart. Her rebellious nature had apparently also prevented her from being associated with Robert and Maryse's views. “I'm really surprised that I haven't really noticed you before. Good looks seem to run in your family.”
Alec let out a humourless laugh, but couldn't stop his face from turning red. Did Magnus really think he was attractive? Or was it just pity? A game, a deception? Another bet? “Don't worry, I don't blame you. It's quite common.”
Alec started as he suddenly felt a warm hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Alexander?” Magnus looked at him, piercing eyes alight. “I wanted to confess something to you." He cleared his throat, biting his lower lip. He seemed almost vulnerable. Strange. “What you did for Lavinia today was very brave. I misjudged you and regret it a little more every day. I know I've already apologised, but I'd really like to get to know the real you.”
Surprised, Alec looked at him and realised that he might be enjoying Magnus' touch a little too much. A sense of warmth and comfort filled his troubled heart. All those years of yearning had left him a man starving for affection. “Brave?” Alec gestured dismissively, his cheeks turning pink. “Anyone in my place would have done the same. It's no big deal. I'm responsible for my team.” By Merlin, he sounded pathetic. Why did Magnus Bane bother with his inferiority complex?
“Believe it or not, Alexander, you are quite remarkable.” Magnus leaned forward, as if to make sure he had Alec's attention. His heart skipped a beat when their eyes met; Magnus' soft hand still on his shoulder. He carried the scent of sandalwood and burnt sugar. How would it feel if it touched his hair? Would it be as silky, as Alec suspected it would be? “I feel like I say all the wrong things each time I see you. I pretend that none of this affects me, that nothing ever matters. I feel neither pain nor regret. But you, you make me feel like I need to change something. And I want to finally start making the right decisions.”
Merlin, Magnus was so beautiful. Why was he so pretty? Alec really couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “Will you go on a date with me?” Alec blurted out before he could think about it. His eyes widened when he realised what he had just done.
Magnus just stared at him, a stunned silence filling the room for a painful moment. His mouth was slightly ajar; he seemed completely caught off guard. In his embarrassment, Alec wanted to merge with the floor. What on earth came over him? Maybe the painkillers had loosened his tongue or turned his brain into Isabell's omelette.
Just like a rabbit petrified in the face of a predator, he now had to wait for his heart to be torn out of his chest. A cold shiver ran down the Hufflepuff's spine. His throat became constricted, making it hard for him to breathe. What would Magnus think of him? Would he even want to talk to him? Maybe he would feel sorry for him and give him an apologetic smile. Maybe.
“I'm sorry,” Alec spluttered, panicked. He clenched his clammy hands. What was he even thinking? Well, actually nothing, since he had acted on pure instinct. “I shouldn't have asked that. Just forget I said it.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Alexander,” the Slytherin murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. The golden light of the evening sun caught his glistening hair, making him look like a divine being. Alec felt his breath catch in his throat. He couldn't help but admire Magnus's sharply defined face. “Why not?” A flirtatious grin spread across Magnus' full lips. “Yes, I'd like to go on a date with you.”
“Really?” Alexander asked, in shock, and eyed Magnus sceptically. Was the potion tricking him into thinking it was a bottle of reality? Was he still dreaming? Or had the Bludger actually hit its target after all? “Are...you sure?” the Hufflepuff asked tentatively, ducking his head. “This isn't another bet, is it?”
“I suppose I've deserved your lack of trust.” Magnus sighed heavily and reached for Alec's hand. His thumb gently stroked over Alexander's calloused knuckles. “I can't do more than give you my word. Although it's probably not worth that much.” The beginnings of a mischievous grin crept onto his face and he winked suggestively at Alec.
Alec gave a small chuckle, his heart suddenly feeling much lighter. “I... I trust you,” he mumbled, blushing. Alec gently squeezed Magnus' hand. “I don't know why, but I believe that you will keep your word." Merlin, he must be drugged out of his mind.
“I am honoured, Alexander.” Magnus made a small, mocking bow. “How about Hogsmeade?” the Slytherin asked and was rewarded with an approving hum from Alec. “Madam Puddifoot's Café is a bit tacky, but I think you'd like it there,” he continued. Pausing, he rolled his lower lip between his teeth. Alec hoped his staring wasn't obvious. “Well, I am not sure about your preferences yet. Are you more of a flower or cologne man?
“Excuse me?” Alexander shot him a blank look, completely bewildered. "Neither?" He must have gone completely mad. He couldn't think of any other explanation. Suddenly, his skin felt too tight for his body. Why was it so warm in here all of a sudden?
Magnus just laughed knowingly before standing up. He glanced at the simple wooden clock, the pointer turning in an endless cycle. “I should really head off. It's getting late and Catherina ought to have finished her break by now. Just scream if you need anything. Right now you need to rest, and try to get some sleep,” he explained apologetically.
“Sometimes I wonder if you really are as clueless as you pretend to be.” The Slytherin let his fingers graze over Alec's dark waves.
Alec froze under the touch, staring at Magnus with a puzzled expression. The stark contrast between Magnus' golden skin and the smooth, red fabric of the blouse was mesmerising. What was wrong with him? A pleasant shiver spread across his scalp when Magnus' fingertips trailed over it.
“But don't worry, darling, I love a challenge.” Magnus murmured and left the infirmary with long strides. His black leather trousers clung to his long legs like a supple second skin. Alec averted his eyes, embarrassed.
“Merlin's beard,” he whispered into the silence of the empty room. “What have I gotten myself into this time?” He probably should try to get some rest, since his head was obviously no longer able to think straight.
*****
The waning moonlight fell through the narrow window and drew a silvery patterns on the faded carpet of the hallway. The ancient wood creaked scornfully under the cautious feet of the boy, as if it tried to reprimand him. The gold-framed portraits on the panelled walls cast a suspicious glances at the fugitive.Their pale, serious faces resembled his own, even though the burden of the family name had not been weighing on his slender shoulders for long. But the warm air of late summer washed away the worries and doubts in a swirl of anticipation.He could almost make out the soft chirping of the crickets that had settled in the perfectly trimmed hedges.
Drunk with recklessness and fuelled by youthful wonder, the boy moved further and further away from the safety of his bed sheets. He simply had to do it, just once, he told himself. His little heart leapt in his chest,fluttering like a bird's wings.The dark, polished hardwood seemed so familiar and yet so unknown.
He came closer and closer to his destination, could already make out the designated door. The shadows grew longer, reaching for him, stretching out their withered arms to drag him into the darkness. The brass doorknob felt cool and alien in his hand. A shiver ran down his spine.It was almost as if he already knew what was going to happen. The little boy started to tremble, his legs suddenly weak and useless. Just like himself. He knew what would happen now. He knew it every time and yet he was never spared. He knew what was waiting for him behind the door and yet he couldn't stop himself from opening it.
“Open it.” The words cut through his thoughts like a lethal blade and he felt his resistance crumble. A moment, frozen in time. Ice cold, so cold that he could hardly move on his own. The hands of the clock stood still. He knew what would happen now.He knew what was waiting for him behind the door. The darkness of the night consumed him, its teeth sinking deep into his bare skin. The soft moonlight had now completely disappeared.
“ No, ” his lips formed, but no sound came out. “No,” the little boy tried again. “Please don't.” He knew what would be seen now. He knew what was waiting for him behind the door.
“Shhhh...don't worry, little boy,” purred the deep voice, and the door knob began to turn slowly. “At that time, you didn't know what you would find.” The hands of the wall clock still made no effort to move. He couldn't breathe. He knew what to expect. And yet it was as if he was watching the door open with a creak for the first time.The little boy wanted to close his eyes, turn on his heels and run away. But he hadn't done so that night either. How could he have known what awaited him behind the door?
The silence frightened him. It smothered him, squeezing the oxygen out of his lungs. The door swung open and the silence lingered. It would do so forever.He would never be able to forget the quiet that awaited him behind the door.
*****
Alec woke up with a start, bathed in sweat and gasping for air. Hot tears ran down his deathly pale face. “Max..?” he whispered into the silent hospital wing.