Chapter 18
Magnus let his hand hover over the rim of the Christmas mug, hoping to capture the remnants of the tea's fleeting warmth. It was an exceptionally ugly specimen, featuring a glittering cat that meowed whenever the mug was filled. One of his best gift ideas yet. Catarina pretended to hate it, but he had seen her use it when he presumably wasn’t looking.
Even the lively fire blazing in the fireplace next to him couldn't quite warm up the small room. Catarina's office was located behind an unassuming door at the end of the long hospital ward. While the ward itself had large arched windows, here the sole source of natural light was a circular opening in the wall covered with frosted glass. The remaining walls were taken up by tall filing cabinets, containing neatly stacked medical equipment, potions and books.
Magnus sat in a dark green wing chair pushed in front of the warming fireplace, leg pulled up to his chin. Catarina leaned against one of the filing cabinets across from him. Her starched cap had slipped, revealing the neat edges of her braids. She was only in her mid-twenties, but a few white streaks were already visible among her black hair. She looked exhausted, fidgeting with the strings of her long apron and glancing warily at the closed door at regular intervals.
Magnus was well aware that she was worried about him. He couldn't really blame her. It used to take him a few weeks to recover from visiting his mother. Magnus felt his stomach clenching with guilt. He needed to pull himself together for just one afternoon.
Almost subconsciously, his fingers wandered to his jacket pocket. The soft velvet of the small bag inside gave him a little security. Although Alexander was not here, at least this part of him could provide Magnus with comfort.
He wondered how Alexander was doing right now. He hadn't received a single letter yet, but then again, they had only parted ways three days ago. Alexander was probably busy with his parents. Perhaps it was better not to think about it too much.
“Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?” Catarina asked for the third time. “I can wait outside.”
“It's all right, Cat,” Magnus replied. He tried to flash her a winning smile, failing miserably. ”I'll survive a few hours at St. Mungos. And if I don't, you can always sue them afterwards. We could use the money.”
“Magnus...” Catarina gave him a withering look. ”You have to take good care of yourself, do you hear me? I don't want-”
Before she could finish her sentence, the door to the small room flew open and Headmaster Fell entered with brisk steps. As usual, he was dressed from head to toe in green and wore his characteristic displeased expression. “Sorry I'm late, but someone thought it would be funny to turn Lorenzo Rey into a chameleon. All you young people are a real pain in the ass. “He shook his head. ”I would never have dared to do anything like that when I was your age. Back then, we still knew what respect meant.”
Magnus snorted loudly and almost choked on his tea. The cat on the mug meowed in reproach. Catarina shot him an amused glance.
“You'd think you'd be a little nicer to the person who's saving you from the floo network. Ragnor, I'm going to ruin my jacket, I'll never get the soot stains out of it,” Ragnor grumbled, annoyed. ”This job is really thankless. Maybe I should have become a llama breeder after all.”
Magnus rose from his seat and executed a lavish bow. “Thank you, O Great Ragnor. I will be forever grateful to you.” A dropping to his knees would have been overdoing it, but the Slytherin decided to play it safe. You could never show enough gratitude. It was easier to enjoy the bewildered expression on the headmaster's face than to think about the hours to come.
Ragnor gave Catarina a desperate look. “Teenagers,” he breathed. “No wonder I'm losing my hair.” Then he seemed to pull himself together and offered Magnus his hand. “Ready?”
Magnus' smile faltered. ”Ready.” He grasped Ragnor's outstretched hand. A loud popping sound rang out and the ground disappeared beneath his feet.
The acrid smell of urine and waste permeated the frigid air, filling his throat. They had ended up in a dingy brick alley between two houses, barely wider than Magnus' shoulders.
Staggering, he stepped into a plastic bag covered in frost and had to brace himself against the slippery wall. A shiver ran down his spine. He'd rather not know what he was standing in. “Why do we have to end up here of all places? This is even worse than a sooty fireplace.”
“Anything else would have been too noticeable. You know what Muggles are like,” Ragnor replied unimpressed. Magnus could hardly make out his face in the shadows of the alley. “Take care of yourself, my boy. I'll come back for you in a bit. “ The older wizard pressed a caramel candy into his hand and then turned away. The static crackling of the apparition filled the air again. Ragnor had disappeared.
After casting a much-needed cleansing charm, Magnus stepped out onto the busy street. He popped the caramel into his mouth and couldn't help but smile. Ragnor was truly incorrigible. Across the street stood a seemingly abandoned brick structure, a former department store with the name Purge and Dowse, Ltd. on the sign. A large billboard announced renovation work, although it looked like it had been there since before Magnus was born. In the dusty shop windows stood a few mannequins, wearing tattered clothing that had been out of fashion for years. The acid-wash jeans on display made Magnus shudder. He could hardly bear to lay eyes on these fashion sins, not even for a moment. He made his way through the crowd and came to a stop in front of the rundown building.
He winked at the mannequin in the green nylon dress. “I'm Magnus Bane, here to visit my mother in the Janus Thickey Ward.” The mannequin nodded ever so slightly and flexed one of its long plastic fingers. Magnus squared his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the cool glass into the bustling lobby of St. Mungos.
The reception room was illuminated by dozens of red and gold crystal spheres. But even the numerous holly branches on the doors and the information desk did not really conjure up a festive mood. There were too many strange smells and sounds lingering in this place.
Magnus did his best to ignore the rows of rickety wooden chairs occupied by wizards with a wide variety of ailments. Some of them struck him as unremarkable, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man with slimy tentacles sprouting from his chest. Magnus had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other. After all, he couldn't be sure what to expect today. Hospitals had always unsettled him. But today, he found it harder than usual to control his pounding heart.
Magnus maneuvered around a small group of healers in lime-green robes, who were busy scribbling notes on their clipboards, and joined the queue at the information desk. An elderly witch was answering questions from newcomers and directing visitors to the right floor. Her sandy hair was tied back in a long braid that fell over her shoulders. The hospital's emblem, a wand intersecting with a bone, was embroidered on her lime-green blouse.
Behind her, on the wall, all kinds of posters and signs proclaimed hygiene rules and public health messages in capital letters. When it was finally Magnus' turn, he could see her name on a small brass plate: Tatiana Blackthorn.
“I'm Magnus Bane, here to visit my mother in the Janus Thickey Ward,” Magnus repeated his rehearsed sentence.
“Are they expecting you?” Mrs. Blackthorn asked without looking up from her list.
“Yes, Headmaster Fell made an appointment for me,” Magnus replied, feeling a little uneasy.
Mrs. Blackthorn hummed in agreement and pointed to a sign on the wall that described the structure of the hospital. “You are expected on the fourth floor. I think you can find your way there independently. Just up the stairs.” She handed him a visitor's pass.
Magnus inclined his head, then strode through the double doors that led to a long corridor and the stairwell. The corridors walls were lined with countless gold-framed portraits of former healers, obscuring the wallpaper. Magnus was out of breath by the time he reached the second floor and by the fourth landing he had to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. Perhaps he should ask Alexander to help him with his stamina training. The Hufflepuff's face would certainly be priceless.
Magnus straightened his jack and rummaged for his mother's present in his bag. The expansion charm had really paid off. You never knew when you might need a glittering eye shadow palette or a cauldron for potions. He triumphantly pulled out a newspaper-wrapped package containing a pair of fluffy, hand-knitted socks. Even if his mother couldn't remember him, at least he could keep her warm.
As soon as Magnus entered the station through the swinging door, a young healer with a friendly smile greeted him. Her gray eyes lit up in the dim light of the crystal spheres. He only visited irregularly, but each time she welcomed him as if he had never been gone. “Magnus, how nice to see you. Your mother is waiting for you, you can head right through to the back. Just give me a shout if you need anything. Jessamine baked some biscuits, I've already put them out for you.”
“Thank you, Tessa.” Magnus couldn't help but smile back at her. ”I'll let you know if anything comes up.”
Magnus gently drew aside the floral curtain that separated his mother's bed from the rest of the ward. She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling, turning the pages of a book in her lap. He frowned, noticing that she was holding the book upside down. Her sleek black hair brushed against the fluffy fabric of her green dressing gown. It had grown longer since his last visit.
She slowly raised her head and smiled at him. Her eyes resembled his so much that it almost felt as if he were looking into a mirror. “Oh hello, love. Are you the new doctor?”
Magnus mustered all his strength not to show the ache in his chest on his face. “No, I'm just visiting,” he replied. He couldn't bring himself to call her ibu. It would only confuse her. “I brought a gift. Do you mind if I join you for a moment?”
His mother studied him for a few seconds, her head tilted. Finally, she nodded solemnly. “How lovely, I didn't have a visitor in such a long time.”
The woman seated in front of him didn't have much in common with the memories of his childhood. Sometimes she had not left her bed for days, bound by a heaviness he couldn't understand at the time. Sometimes he had pressed his ear against the crack of her door to listen to her weeping, afraid she would never find peace again. But she was still his mother, the one whose voice had lulled him to sleep so many times, who stopped to pet every stray cat and who taught him how to make burbur ayam when he got sick.
And today, the woman with his mother's face smiled at him. Maybe she was happier this way. If her memory charm hadn't failed so horribly, she could have left her old life behind, begun a new chapter free of guilt. But now she didn't even recognize the son who looked so much like his father. The son who had ruined her life.
Magnus carefully handed her the gift wrapped in newspaper. “I knitted these myself.” Her hand felt warm under his fingertips. Even this fleeting touch almost brought tears to his eyes. "To keep you warm."
His mother carefully unwrapped the newspaper and placed it on the bed next to her, giving the socks a pondering look. She ran her fingers over the soft wool, then slipped them directly over her bare feet. They fit perfectly. “How nice of you to visit. It gets a bit lonely here sometimes, so it's nice to have company. Would you like a biscuit?” His mother reached for a small plate on her bedside table next to a half-drunk cup of tea.
Magnus raised his hands in objection and put on a polite smile. The mere thought of eating made his stomach turn. “No, thank you. I already ate earlier.”
She just shrugged and began nibbling on a slightly burnt biscuit. ”Do you work here? Your face looks so familiar.”
Magnus' chest tightened. “I...” His voice failed him. His mouth suddenly felt parched. “I... No, I don't work here. But I've been here for a visit before.” He had to somehow distract her from this topic.
So he pulled the black velvet bag Alexander had given him out of his pocket. Magnus wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it here. Seeing his mother well cared for felt good, but every moment in her presence dug into his heart like a razor blade. He had to pull himself together, fast. Alexander never failed to calm him down. Hopefully, he would be able to help him in this situation, as well.
His mother nodded as if his answer had satisfied her for the time being. Then, as expected, her gaze fell on Magnus' hands. “What is this?”
“A gift from someone very important to me,” Magnus explained quietly. His fingers trembled as he removed the ribbon.
“How wonderful. I can't recall the last time someone like that gave me a gift.”
Magnus took a deep breath , letting the oxygen fill his lungs until he thought he would burst at the seams.
The contents of the bag jingled softly as he tipped it out onto his palm. The cool silver of the bracelet clung to his feverish skin. Tiny diamonds and sapphires shimmered in the light of the crystal spheres, forming a series of stars that could rival the night sky.
Magnus stared in disbelief at the precious piece of jewelry. His eyes were surely about to pop out of his head. Alexander must have spent a small fortune on it. Magnus was afraid that the slightest movement could destroy the delicate craftsmanship. This was probably worth more than all his possessions combined.
His mother had apparently recovered more quickly from her state of shock and reached for the bracelet in his open hand. “It is so beautiful, it would be a shame not to wear it.” Before Magnus could react, she had fastened the bracelet around his wrist. “This someone seems to care about you. Take good care of it,” she said with a small smile. “Things like this are lost more easily than you think.”
Only now did Magnus notice the small piece of parchment at the bottom of the velvet bag.
For a moment, he closed his eyes – he almost thought he heard Alexander's deep voice in the shuffling of the curtains and the quiet conversations of the other patients. For a moment, Alexander was with him.
None of these shine as brightly as you,
Alec
He would have to have a talk with Alexander about way too expensive gifts, but for now he would enjoy being spoiled for once.
*****
Alexander blinked slowly. He could barely feel the cool floorboards through the fabric of the formal robe. His mother was kneeling on the floor beside him, her hands digging into his shoulders. A flood of words poured from her mouth, her blood-red lips moving at a rapid pace. “Alec, can you hear me? I never meant for this to happen, you have to believe me. I didn't mean to. You shouldn't have provoked me like that.” But Alec's world blurred in a jumble of pain, in a kaleidoscope of despair. And he was so tired. So very, very tired. Didn't he deserve a break?
Alec blinked. He was lying in his own bed, the duvet pulled up almost to his neck. Dark shadows crept from the corners of the room, closing in on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the shadows advancing. Every inch of his body ached. Groaning, he tried to sit up, only to find that he lacked the strength. He let himself sink back into the soft mattress and closed his eyes.
Alec blinked. His room was flooded with bright sunlight. Badrey had left a plate of vegetable broth on the nightstand. The soothing scent of the soup drew him in, but he had no desire to eat. Instead, he stared at the creasing at the edge of the wallpaper above his bed. It wouldn't be long before the adhesive came undone. His limbs felt heavy, as if they were made of lead. He wasn't sure if he would ever rise again.
Alec blinked. Time had become a thick syrup, running through his fingers. His mother had come to check on him. She put her hand to his forehead. He let her. She spoke to him. He didn't answer, couldn't find the will in himself. Instead, he watched the piece of wallpaper steadily coming undone. The sky-blue violets printed on it had started to fade in his early childhood. Badrey carried the next untouched plate out of the room and gave him a troubled look. Alec couldn't bring himself to avert his eyes from the ceiling.
Alec blinked again, the world hadn't changed. He could now clearly see the fine hairline crack in the wallpaper, caused by the peeling corner. Under the loose floorboard, only a few meters away from him, Magnus' gift was waiting for him. If the duvet had not weighed on his chest like a layer of bricks, he might have found the will to lift himself up.