Chapter 8
“You look like hell, mate,” Jace remarked, eyeing Alec with concern. The Hufflepuff merely raised an eyebrow and wordlessly took a sip from his steaming coffee. Purple shadows spread out beneath his tired eyes like dark crescents, making his skin appear sickly pale. One arm wrapped in a white sling, he hunched over at the packed Gryffindor table. Alec tried to tune out the clatter of plates mixing with lively conversations and shouts. That morning, he had left Andrew and Simon behind to join his siblings. The constant throbbing at his temples felt like pinpricks, stabbing into his brain. Even the smell of the scrambled eggs sitting in a bowl in front of him made him feel sick.
He kept thinking of Magnus: his cocky smile, his shimmering hair, how warm his touch had been. Once the effect of the painkillers had worn off, he had fully grasped what he had done. Asking Magnus out and him actually agreeing to it…That still seemed like a hallucination to him. He began tapping his fingers on the smooth tabletop, his head bowed so that no one could see his flushed cheeks.
“Next time we'll smash your shoulder with a bludger and then we'll see how good you look.” Isabelle replied annoyed and swatted her brother's shoulder threateningly. Her long, glossy hair framed her striking features, falling across her shoulders in soft waves. The fierce gleam in her dark eyes gave away the fact that she was still upset. After all, she hadn't even been allowed to enter the hospital wing the day before. Isabelle had been on the verge of drawing her wand to curse Madame Ross. Admittedly, she was aware that this wouldn't have necessarily helped her brother's recovery.
Jace just grinned and nicked a piece of buttered toast from Isabelle's plate. “No violence this early in the morning,” he teased, taking a big bite of the crunchy slice. A worried frown crept across his face. “But please be more careful, Alec,” Jace said quietly. “We don't want to lose you. You really have to take better care of yourself. All right?”
“You're just afraid that you can't live up to the part of the good looking brother if I kick the bucket,” Alec huffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The corners of his mouth curled upward as he took another swig of the caffeinated brew. He preferred tea, but he felt so depleted and that he was in real need of the extra energy. Not even the soft cloth of his well-worn turtleneck sweater could soothe his exhaustion. On numerous occasions, Isabelle had tried to get rid of it as she claimed it had too many holes and had long since lost its original colour. The Hufflepuff refused to be influenced by such minor details.
“Hey!” Jace protested, folding his arms across his chest in outrage, while Isabelle burst out laughing and almost choked on her breakfast. He shot her a venomous glare from his golden eyes. “And now you're turning against me, too?” Jace snorted and swept his blond curls back with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “I fear, much to my disappointment, you two don't seem to appreciate me. I'm deeply hurt.”
“Believe me,” Isabelle said, a triumphant smile on her blood-red lips. “Your ego is big enough to be able to cope with that.”
Alec just shook his head and laughed. Only now did he realise how much he had missed his siblings over the past few days. A gentle sense of warmth filled him, mingling with the buzzing caffeine that raced through his veins. He realized how much his heart craved these little moments. Away from the pressure, the fear and the prejudice it was easy to be happy, easy to forget for a moment.
Even if this moment didn't last as long as he had hoped. He was just about to help himself to a bowl of porridge when he was suddenly interrupted.“The mail!” an excited first-grader exclaimed nearby.
Alec winced as the shrill voice pierced his eardrums before sighing in annoyance. He tilted his head back to admire the owls' majestic wings. They drifted silently across the ceiling of the great hall, the sky a gloomy grey today. Some of them carried letters in their beaks, others bore parcels in their claws. Amongst the various birds, he spotted Merlin's speckled coat. The stout tawny owl headed straight for the three siblings and would have almost tumbled into the bowl of porridge if Alec hadn't pushed it aside with a wise premonition.
Merlin looked at him accusingly through his big yellow eyes and thrust his head forward. In his beak, the family owl carried a brown envelope on which the Lightwood crest was emblazoned in vermilion ink. Blazing flames twisted around the Lightwood L, forever frozen in the moment of their bloom.
A deep sense of fear closed around his throat. He could hardly breathe, hardly think. He hadn't expected his parents to react so quickly. “No need to be so grumpy, Merlin,” Alec murmured gently; his fingers trembling as he reached for the letter. Merlin immediately spread his dark brown wings and rose back into the air.
He didn't want his siblings to notice how tense he really was. But Alec could do little to prevent his mouth from twisting into a grim line. At least his parents had never sent him a Howler. That was probably less out of concern for his well-being than to maintain their reputation. He pulled the stiff parchment out of the envelope and glanced at his siblings. Jace seemed to be busy devouring three slices of toast at once, while Isabelle was eyeing him with interest.
“Come on…” Isabelle tilted her head slightly. “What do they say?”
Alec just nodded, narrowing his eyes in concentration to make out the elaborate handwriting.
Alexander,
Yesterday we received word of your injury. Your mother and I were appalled by the level of recklessness you have displayed once again. We thought we were past this phase, but now we have been proven wrong. This kind of mistake could cost you your life one day. We are very concerned about your behaviour.We have thought long and hard on this and have come to the conclusion that it would be best if you gave up your spot on the Quidditch team. However, we want to give you one last chance to prove that you can be responsible. As it is, we are very disappointed. Don't forget the position you put us in by acting so recklessly.The Lightwood name must not be tarnished by you. It is not always easy to live up to the expectation that this station carries. You know this. However, this cannot continue. Your performance in potions has also been lacking. Perhaps you should ask your siblings for some guidance. I'm sure you are aware of the consequences if you continue to let us down.Now, concentrate on getting better and give our regards to Isabelle and Jace.
Robert Lightwood
Alec closed his eyes for a moment, then folded the crisp parchment. Quickly, he slipped it into the pocket of his cloak. He put on a forced smile, hoping that Isabelle wouldn't notice how much his father's words had affected him. Sure as ever, they pierced right through his heart. He was sure that Robert Lightwood's pen was sharper than many a sword.
We have thought long and hard on this and have come to the conclusion that it would be best if you gave up your spot on the Quidditch team.
They wouldn't go that far. No... He couldn't afford any more mistakes. Cold sweat formed on his pale forehead as he tried to steady his breathing. “Nothing important.” Alec murmured absentmindedly. “They're worried about me, as usual. And I'm supposed to give you their regards.
I'm sure you are aware of the consequences if you continue to let us down.
The chill of the words crept up his spine and haunted his thoughts. Every fibre of his being recoiled at the thought of what would happen if he couldn't fulfil his parents' expectations.
Jace raised his head in confusion, wiping toast crumbs from his chin. “Regards from whom?” he asked, seemingly completely unaware of the tense situation. “You look sick, Alec. Are you sure you're alright?”
“Where were you, anyway, in the last few minutes?” Isabelle stared at him in disbelief. She probably wanted to put her hands around Jace's neck and strangle him. “Sometimes I think you just switch off your brain on purpose in the morning.”
“It's okay, Izzy.” Alec managed to say and rose with difficulty. His legs felt as though they were about to give out under him. “I'm still very exhausted. It would probably be good if I could get a little more sleep.” He bent forward and lovingly ruffled Jace's golden locks. “Don't worry about me, I'll be as good as new in no time.”
Before anyone could say anything, he turned on his heel and left the Great Hall at a swift pace.
“Merlin.” Alec let out a deep sigh. It seemed that fate wouldn't allow him to have one quiet Sunday morning with his siblings.
It was all but impossible for him to shoulder the burden of responsibility alone, to meet his parents' demands in even the most trivial of ways. The bustling Great Hall had suddenly become too much for him: too loud, too bright, too jarring. So he had fled, as usual. Fled like a coward. Alec couldn't bear to continue lying to siblings and had withdrawn as quickly as possible.
He needed a short rest now, time to think, and maybe a good book. Perhaps he could use the opportunity to visit the house-elves. Behind the oil painting of the fruit bowl, a warm cup of tea and a few kind words awaited him.
The Lightwood name must not be tarnished by you.
Alec couldn't understand why he was made to bear the brunt of his parents' excessive standards. Was it not enough that he did his duty and cared for those around him? Still, he couldn't say he regretted his decision. Lavinia emerged unscathed, and that was all he wanted for his troubles.
Deep in thought, he descended the flood of stairs into the dungeon, successfully avoiding the infamous trick step. With his left arm still in a sling, it was much more difficult for him to maintain his balance. In the dim light of the torches and candles, his body cast large shadows on the worn stone floor. The folded letter weighed heavily in his pocket. Frustrated, Alec balled his trembling hands to fists, digging his fingernails into the sore skin. Welcoming the dull ache, he headed straight for the stack of barrels that formed the entrance to the common room. It was probably better to head to his dorm straight away.
“Well, well, well.” A slender figure emerged from the darkness of a narrow corridor ahead of him. “Alec Lightwood. Protector of little girls. Hero of the day. Your parents must be so proud of you.”
Alec jumped in alarm as he realised who was standing in front of him. Camille Belcourt was eyeing him with a hostile gleam in her emerald eyes, gliding towards him like a storm cloud. Her smile matched the dark hours of a freezing winter night. One could get the impression that someone had woven moonlight into her neatly arranged hair and chiselled her face out of unyielding marble.
A lump formed in his stomach. One quick glance told him that the hallway was deserted. Her entourage was nowhere to be seen either. That definitely wasn't a good sign.
“Have we met?” Alec finally asked, his confusion evident. He recalled that she was in the same year as Isabelle and Jace. Alec could also still remember the incident in the great hall when she had cast a babble curse on Magnus.
“Well, I don't think you've had the pleasure of making my acquaintance yet,” Camille replied, raising her chin.
Alec still couldn't quite grasp what she wanted from him. Actually, she really didn't need to be aware of his presence at all, let alone have a conversation with him. “Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, “I must be on my way then.” Alec made a move to push past her when she blocked his path again.
“Not so fast, Lightwood,” Camille purred dangerously, placing a hand on his good arm. “I'm not quite finished with you yet.” She was so close to him that he was struck by an overpowering smell of vanilla and sickly-sweet flowers. It made him want to throw up. Alec could only pray that she wouldn't notice his racing heart. “I heard that you're interested in Magnus.” Her iron grip tightened. “I'd be careful if I were you. I wouldn't want you to get burned.”
Irritated, Alexander pulled himself free. Who did she think she was, anyway? “Even if that were the case, I don't see what that has to do with you,” he said in a calm voice, giving her a fake smile. The Hufflepuff really didn't have the patience to deal with her games. He certainly wasn't going to throw away his one chance at a date with Magnus just because Camille Belcourt thought her opinion was needed.
“Of course it's my business. Magnus and I will be connected forever,” hissed Camille, and the friendly facade she had shown him at first shattered completely. “You haven't got the slightest idea what you're getting yourself into, Lightwood. I don't know what kind of delusion you're living in, but Magnus doesn't care about your feelings. As soon as he's trapped you in a web of lies and empty promises, he'll drop you faster than you can blink. Did you really think that someone like Magnus Bane would be interested in someone like you,” She giggled then shook her head in pity. “What could you ever offer him? You're nothing but a big-shouldered, idiot with a huge inferiority complex. A distraction, an appetiser. He's flirting with you to make me jealous. I’ll give it to you, you are his type. But don't get carried away.”
Shocked, Alec simply stared. He was at a loss for words, having been insulted without any provocation. He thought of Magnus and his warm hands, his gentle smile and his kind words when he had comforted him in the hospital wing. It was true that he didn't know much about the attractive Slytherin, but he trusted Magnus' promise not to cross him again. “I...I...what..” he faltered and froze under Camille's furious gaze. He wouldn't have been surprised if a horde of venomous vipers had erupted from her scalp to turn him to stone.
“It's really sweet how clueless you are. Well, I suppose that's proof enough.” She finally took a step back, turning to leave. Alec was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she continued. “I don't mean to insult you, but you're not particularly…special. Magnus will get bored of you and come back to me. You should be grateful to me, really. I'm just saving you a broken heart.” Camille turned to him one last time. “Believe me, I know what Magnus wants.” Then she floated away, leaving a foul taste in Alec's mouth.
Still caught off guard, he leaned on the rough stone wall next to him and took a deep breath. First the letter from his father and now Camille had decided to declare him public enemy number one. He really had better things to do than deal with her jealousy. However, he couldn't ignore the small twinge in his heart. He was no match for Magnus, and he certainly didn't have his experience, but he wanted to trust him so much that it almost hurt.
The Lightwood name must not be tarnished by you.
Alec straightened his shoulders and adjusted his turtleneck. Why should he let himself be manipulated by someone he didn't even know? He might be inexperienced, but he valued loyalty above all. Now Alec had more reason than ever to show Camille how wrong she was about Magnus. He couldn't wait for the next weekend. Filled with anticipation, he didn't notice that his pocket was now empty.