Clay Pigeons
Kingscross looks the same as always, but it feels different. The usual excited hum of the station sounds more anxious today. It sounds like agitated bees when humans steal their precious honey.
Saying goodbye to her parents goes the same as always. They tell Pandora and Evan not to let them down, and Pandora hugs Felix extra tight before leaving. She’s worried about him this year. With the Voldemort thing, and her parents in general, she hopes Felix stays out of trouble.
Evan’s already lost, but if they try to recruit Felix, Pandora stops at nothing to keep him out of harm's way. No one touches Felix.
Once she’s on the Hogwarts express Pandora decides to be brave and sit with Evan and her friends. It’s nerve wracking, but she is also excited. Plus there is so much she’s dying to talk to Regulus about. She has to wait until they are in private for most of it though. If that’s even a thing they could do now. Pandora’s never met up with Regulus outside of Evan before. But after this summer, things have changed. She found some Edgar Allen Poe poems in her muggle book. They’re good, very much Regulus’s style, but she prefers Margaret Cavendish. Along with her Norton book, she’s also packed her only two Van Gogh prints. “Self Portrait” and “A Pair of Shoes one Shoe Upside Down”. She doesn’t have her favorite, “Wheat Feild Under Thunderclouds.” She’s only seen it once. It was a few years back and she saw the painting on a postcard walking past a muggle shop, the name was printed in the corner. She only caught a glimpse, but that one is her favorite. The image is permanently etched into her mind.
It’s going to be different in person. Pandora’s never been able to communicate well using her voice. It’s much easier to speak using art. Maybe Regulus feels this way too?
The compartment is quite cramped. Dorcas and Regulus are sitting together on one side. While Barty takes up too much space on the other. He gestures for Evan to join him when the siblings walk in, Pandora could sit next to Evan. She can do that now. But the widow seat next to Regulus is calling her name.
The journey is surprisingly good. Pandora watches out the window, and talks to the people around her. She tells them about her gardening, and they already know about her being locked up.
When she mentions it, Regulus gets a bit tense.
She notices him glancing at her from the corner of his eye. He’s very discreet but she can tell he’s looking for signs of harm. His parents are worse than hers.
Barty tells everyone about his time in America. “Horrible! My dad was an absolute bitch the whole time. Always needing to travel in these fancy long cars, and refusing to take the yellow one I wanted to go in.”
He complains a lot, but if the worst thing about the trip was a long car it can’t have been that bad.
Barty also tells them about some guy he met who was riding around on a little board with wheels.
“He was so cool! He had his ears pierced and wore these sick sneakers!”
Pandora looks at Evan who’s intently watching Barty, face soft and warm.
After a few hours everyone but Regulus is sleeping. Dorcas and Evan lean on the wall, but Barty is sprawled across Evan, snoring quietly. They look comfortable.
“I’ve found some muggle poetry” Pandora shares.
“Did you like it?”
“Sometimes. It's a bit confusing, the poets find a way to say what they mean without saying what they mean.”
Regulus is stoic. “It’s an art form”
“And it’s wonderful, but when I read a poem I find myself wondering why it was written.”
“That’s why I like it. Each poet has their reasons. I like to uncover them. It’s like solving a mystery. You read the poem, and study the poet, look at the year the poem was written, and the circumstances of the world. And usually I can find their reason.”
It’s a nice thought. Regulus makes it seem simple, like a science. But he just told her it’s an art.
“What if they don’t have a reason?”
“They always have a reason.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Prove me wrong.”
Pandora hesitates, trying to counter Regulus’s argument. She can’t. Lucky he lets the subject go.
“Did you bring any paintings?” He sounds like a child when the words come out. His expression is hopeful, eyes lightening. She likes this version of Regulus.
“Yes! But I only have two, and they're in the bottom of my trunk.”
“Good, because I want to see them.”
Barty twitches, then falls back asleep. Regulus watches him closely, before continuing.
“I have my poetry books if you’re still interested.”
Pandora nods vigorously. Watching as Regulus opens his back and pulls out a copy of “History of Magic”.
She stares at him as he places the book in her hands.
“What’s this?”
“It’s been enchanted to look like something it’s not. Open it”
So she does. The book is full of poems, in between the lines she finds Regulus’s neat handwriting.
“You write in your books?”
“Only my poetry books.” Regulus says shyly.
“This is–” She flips through the pages, finding more little notes written by Regulus. It feels so intimate to see his annotations, like a little window into his complex brain. It’s precious.
“What’s that on your hand?”
Pandora is distracted by the beautiful book, not noticing Regulus’s alarm.
“Did they hurt you?”
Glancing at Regulus, Pandora is startled, he’s staring at her hand, looking like it's going to attack him. Naturally she looks too. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Her fingernails are a bit dirty from her paint last night but nothing offensive.
It takes a moment for her to undertand. Regulus is looking at the scars on her palm.
“Oh, these are from a broken snow globe. It was my fault. See” She holds her hand up, hoping this will calm Regulus.
It does, he relaxes back in the chair with a sigh.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize”
“What?” Dorcaus says groggily.
Regulus quickly closes the book, pushing it into Pandora’s hands.
“I’m going to need this back in a little while.”
Pandora nods, tucking it safely into her backpack. She’s going to care for this book like it’s her child.
“What were you talking about?” Dorcas asks, still half asleep.
“Muggle studies.” is Regulus’s answer which is strange, because he’s never been in muggle studies before. But given her recent discoveries the new development makes perfect sense.
“Forgot you were in that this year. Can’t believe your parents let you take that.”
“I didn’t tell them.”
“Oh? Proud of you Reg”
It’s very subtle but the corners of Regulus’s lips turn up.
The rest of the journey is nice, Pandora talks with Dorcas and Regulus about silly things that don’t matter, while Barty and Evan sleep, or annoy each other.
She’s never seen them like this. They were friends before, but nothing like this. At one point when they were wrestling over the last Bertie Bott’s bean it looked like they were going to kiss.
Whatever has grown between them, she can tell it’s good. They’re less angry, and neither of them has complained in hours. They seem happy. She smiles to herself as she watches them bicker.
Pandora doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll miss this day on the train dearly.
***
Pandora is exhausted by the time she jumps into her familiar bed. It’s soft and warm, and her sheets smell of soap. But she can’t go to bed just yet. She has business to attend to. Pandora writes a quick letter to Peter, asking him to meet her in the library tomorrow so they can start growing the Mirthroot as soon as possible.
After sending the letter, she sorts through her treasured leather notebook. Inside is Pandora’s life’s work. All her studies and information about the Karthaos Beetle and magical insects, even a few species of plants. She flips through the pages looking at her hand painted images of insects, They’re all done except for her abandoned piece of the Beetle. It’s aggravating because all of the other bugs are easy. She made them in minutes and they look great. But the Beetle just looks silly. Its legs are far too long, and she’s somehow made the antennas look like antlers. She hates it and wishes to tear the picture from her book. She doesn’t. She can’t discard her poor artwork until she sees a Karthos Beetle again. Maybe it really does look like this and her vision was simply failing her that night.
Pandora knows this is not the case, but can’t risk a blow to her self esteem at the moment.
“What’s that?”
She didn’t notice Emmaline watching her. She is sitting cross legged in her bed studying Pandora.
“My notebook.”
Her book is not published yet, therefore Emmaline cannot see it.
“Well what’s inside?”
The girl laughs and Pandora notices she got a haircut over the summer. It’s shorter now, coming to stop just above her shoulders. It suits her, she looks more mature now. She’s beautiful.
“Your hair. I like it.”
“Thank you.” She plays with a small section of her freshly cut hair.
Clearly Emmaline doesn’t care about Pandora’s research much because forgets the notebook all together.
“Did you have a good summer?”
“It was okay” Pandora thinks about the past few months. They could’ve been worse.
“You?”
“It was good. My mums got a new boyfriend.”
“Do you like him?”
“Yeah, he’s nice, treats her well. It’s just a bit weird. I never really thought about her finding someone after dad.”
“Is it serious?”
“Yeah, he's moving in while i’m here.” Emmaline starts to tear up.
Pandora moves over to her bed, shutting the curtains around them, and blocking out their other roommates. Emmaline deserves to cry in peace.
Pandora rubs her back, while she cries, tears streaming down her cheeks. It seems like she's been holding this in all summer.
“That’s really difficult” Is the only thing Pandora can get herself to say. She wants to apologize, but that wouldn’t help anyone. She wants to make Emmaline feel better, she wants to take her pain away, but she can’t. So Pandora just rubs her back while Emmaline cries about something Pandora cannot help with.
“It hurts to see another man in his place.”
She doesn’t know how to respond with words, so she responds with actions. Giving Emmaline a hug, and forcing all of her good energy into the troubled girl.
They go on like this for a while until Pandora gets Emmaline to go to sleep, then she sneaks quietly over to her bed, excited to finally sleep.
***
Pandora is nothing. She can’t see anything, or feel anything. She exists, yet she’s nonexistent. Nothing is dark or light, warm or cold, happy or sad. It just is.
She wakes up feeling disoriented. It takes a moment for her to realize where she is. I’m at school. I’m in my bed. She looks at her palm to make sure the scars are still there. When she sees them she knows this is real, she's not dreaming anymore.
In the afternoon she makes her way to the library to visit Peter. He’s sitting in their favorite corner by the window. When he notices her his face lights up, and he excitedly greets her.
“Hi”
“Hi”
He talks happily as he pulls some books out of his bag.
“Have a good break?”
“It was alright. You?”
“It was great! I stayed with the Potters for a while. Got loads of research done.”
Pandora gapes at the three beat up notebooks in front of her. She feels bad, she didn’t do any research on Mirthroot over the summer, and here Peter is with books full.
“I didn’t do research. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, don’t be, I wanted to do this. Plants are my favorite.”
Over the next hour Peter presents his work to Pandora. It’s truly impressive. There are pages upon pages of information about the root. They’re beautifully organized, each notebook coming with a table of contents in the beginning. His research is extensive, tracing the life span of the root, to the harvesting of the seeds and creation of the drug. Peter looks so proud as he shares his findings. When he’s finally done Panora thanks him profusely. He’s been more of a help than she could’ve ever imagined.
Next they take a trip to green houses collecting some soil and wooden crates. Luckily Professor Sprout isn’t there. Pandora still feels guilty for tricking the kind teacher, and she never did get to gift her flowers.
Peter starts by dumping the damp soil into the crates, and once it’s even he carefully places the seeds into neat rows.
“Where are we going to find mead?” Pandora asks, because Peter told her would take the germinating seeds to his dorm so they could start to grow.
“I have my ways.” There’s a glint of something mischievous in his eyes.
“But they need to be watered tonight.” Pandora appreciated Peter's help, but she can’t compromise the business, she needs assurance.
“Trust me.”
“Fine” She does trust him. Pandora trusts people easily, because she doesn’t know how to stop herself.
The next few weeks are a blur. Pandora goes to class, and comforts Emmaline, and meets with Peter, and gives Regulus her pictures. Her classes are going well, and she’s even received a letter from Felix. Life is good. Pandora is content.
***
September is coming to a close, leaves are falling as the weather cools.
Every autumn Pandora becomes increasingly aware of time passing. She feels her childhood memories fade further into the past, and she misses them. Life used to be simple, she used to be excited to explore the world, but now it feels like everything is closing in on her. Pandora’s had a recurring nightmare where she blinks and then all of a sudden she’s old, and she’s already lived her whole life. In the dream she’s a muggle sitting in a hospital bed, surrounded by people she doesn’t recognize. As she closes her eyes for the final time, she sees her life, all her accomplishments.
They’re meaningless, nothing she did lasted, she didn’t change the world, she didn’t even change the lives of those around her. In a few years time, no one will remember Pandora Rosier. Her existence will fade into history, another untold story.
Everytime she wakes up from that dream Pandora works on her book. She is destined to leave something behind. When she’s old and gray, Pandora wants her research to outlive her. She needs to leave a trace of her existence behind. No matter how small, she must exist beyond this body, this life. Her book is a way to accomplish that.
Pandora never wants children, so she won’t continue her bloodline, yet through her research she will create her legacy.
That’s why she likes Maragret Cavendish so much, especially her poem titled “An Apology for Writing so much Upon this Book”
She showed it to Regulus who helped her research the author. She lived in the early sixteen hundreds, and taught herself how to read and write. In addition to literature she studied philosophy and science. She was afraid to be forgotten, she wrote about in her poems. And while Pandora read them, she realized that Margaret had achieved her goal. She lives on through her poems just as Pandora wants to live on through her research.
Perhaps in another lifetime they would have been good friends. Pandora likes to imagine them sharing ideas with each other.
Margaret was a muggle, yet Pandora can feel the magic in her words.
Hidden deep within her heart Pandora wishes to leave the magical world after school, attend a muggle university for history, and live out her days working in a museum.
She’ll never tell anyone. Pandora keeps her little dream for herself, afraid to let anyone see it.
Though it won’t happen in this life, Pandora hopes another version of herself, far away from here gets to experience the life she dreams of.
But for now Pandora is Pandora, she is a wizard, her twin is being forced to join a cause he doesn’t believe in. Her best friend's parents don’t love each other, and Regulus’s parents don’t love him.