A Whisper of Magic
As Peter neared the smithy, he could hear the sound of a hammer on metal like music to his ears. He rushed to the door and called out, “Uncle Grouser! Uncle Grouser? Hullo!”
No one answered. Probably couldn’t hear him over the noise. He’d better let himself in.
He did just that, strolling in just in time to see something hot being dunked into a quenching bucket, the sizzle filling the air.
“Uncle Grouser, it’s me, Pete–”
The blacksmith turned, rising to his full height and Peter quickly realised that this very large, very scowly blacksmith was not, in fact, his Uncle Grouser.
“Er, hiya,” Peter said, suddenly much more nervous. “Is… is Uncle Grouser here? I’m his nephew, Pete.”
The blacksmith had black messy hair, a full beard, and a thunderous expression. As Peter talked, the blacksmith’s eyebrows drew closer together.
Peter began slowly backing out of the forge. “Does Uncle Grouser work here? Is he even in this city?”
The blacksmith let out a great, gusty sigh, and without a second thought, Peter was already sprinting out the door.
Remus’ magic was agitated. He could feel it like a hum in his spine, like sparks just behind his fingertips. The execution seemed to have set him off, leaving him feeling like he was walking on the edge of a blade. At the slightest provocation, he was sure his magic would come spilling out–with deadly consequences. He tried to keep himself grounded and monitor his thoughts, because they often channelled his magic accidentally, but he still felt ill-at-ease.
After a quick stop for directions, Remus soon found himself at the door of the court physician. He thought he could hear hushed voices speaking within. The door was slightly ajar so he knocked gently. When no one answered, he called out, “Hello?”
The voices continued. He knew he was quiet–he had always been told he was–so he cleared his throat and called a little louder.
“Hello?”
Still no answer. He pushed the door a little more open to poke his head through, but he was met with unexpected resistance. The door had knocked into a pile of books topped with a platter of silver cups that swayed and began to fall.
No, stop! he thought, reaching out to catch the items.
The stack froze mid air, his magic reaching out where his arms failed. Remus stopped moving, staring stricken. The two women in the centre of the room stood staring too.
Fuck.
He quickly released the suspended books, platter, and cups. They fell to the ground with a clatter even louder than he had anticipated. He flinched.
One of the women–the dark-haired one–seemed to snap out of her stupor. “What did you just do?” she demanded, hurrying towards him. Between the determination in her walk and the intensity of her expression, she was honestly quite intimidating. He took a step back, but she had already reached him. She grabbed his arm with thin, sharp fingers and pulled him harshly back into the room. Her attention wasn’t on him, though, as she peered around him and out the door both ways, then quickly closed and bolted it.
“Well?” She turned her attention back on him, hazel-green eyes accusing.
“I, er–” Play stupid, his brain suggested. After all, it hadn’t been big magic. Perhaps he could convince them nothing had happened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, boy,” she said, sharply. “We both know what that was. The question is: how did you do it?”
“I– I don’t–” He found himself glancing to the other woman as she drew nearer. Her blonde curls were pinned up, and her face seemed somewhat gentler than the other’s.
The dark-haired woman drew his attention again by leaning closer and asking in a more hushed tone, “How is it you know magic?”
Ice went down Remus’ spine. The dead eyes of the wizard from the square flashed to the forefront of his mind and his heart began to pound. “I don’t,” he said quickly.
“Minnie,” the blonde woman started, looking reprovingly at the other–who was unfazed.
“Where did you study?” the dark-haired woman pressed on.
“I’ve never studied magic or–or been taught.” At least this time he didn’t have to lie.
“Don’t lie to me, boy.” Her sharp hazel-green eyes pinned him in place.
“I’m not, I swear!”
“Minnie!” The blonde woman put a hand gently on his arm. “Who are you?” she asked, her eyes calm and steady.
“M–My name is Remus,” he stuttered. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to tell them his name immediately after committing a capital offence before their eyes, but he was too panicked to think straight.
He could almost see the workings of the woman’s mind behind her soft eyes as she sorted through her memory until his name clicked.
“Remus,” she murmured. “Hope’s son?”
“Yes!” he replied. “I’m here to see the court physician, Madam–”
“That would be me,” the blonde interjected, “and ‘Poppy’ will do fine. This is Minerva, the king’s advisor,” she continued, gesturing towards the other woman–who still hadn’t stopped staring at him, her mouth pressed into a thin line.
“My mam w– Well, she wrote a letter.” Remus pulled the letter out of his pack. “She was hoping you’d let me stay with you until I got my feet under me.”
As Poppy read the letter, Remus glanced around him. The room was filled with tables overflowing with books, potions, herbs, and all manner of things he had no idea how to use. Bookshelves lined the walls and dried flowers hung from the ceilings. Ladders led to upper levels where more bookshelves rested.
Poppy looked up from the letter, and her face softened into a smile. “I think we should be able to fit you in the back room.”
Minerva scowled. “Poppy, you do realise if you are discovered harbouring a sorcerer, the king will have your head. And this sorcerer”–she gestured at Remus–”will get himself caught the moment he enters a room, apparently.”
“Sounds like he needs our help then, doesn’t it?” Poppy said coolly.
Minerva looked at Poppy, unimpressed. Poppy paid no attention as she handed her the letter and led Remus to a back room.
“She’s not going to, er–” Remus awkwardly gestured behind them.
Poppy glanced back, something warm in her watercolour eyes, as she said, “Don’t worry; you can trust her with your life."
Regulus stared out of his bedroom window towards the courtyard where the execution had taken place mere hours ago. Now, there was no sign of it as the courtyard was filled with light and music in celebration of the festival. Perhaps to the people down there, the execution had been part of the festivities celebrating their great defeat of magic. Regulus felt rather sick.
“Hey.”
Sirius stood in the doorway, goblet in hand. Everything about him from the purposefully crooked cape around his shoulders to his easy posture seemed effortlessly stylish. He walked in–without invitation, Regulus noted.
“The feast is missing its guest of honour,” Sirius remarked. “Should have known you’d be alone staring out a window somewhere.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. Perhaps if he ignored him, he’d go away.
His older brother leaned against the windowsill, eyes fixed on him. He had a way of looking at people as if they were puzzles he was mentally deconstructing to see all the little pieces underneath. It was part of the reason Regulus learned to conceal his feelings so well.
“How are you?” Sirius asked, tone actually serious for once.
“Fine,” Regulus replied. A pause, then he added, “Pandora hasn’t stopped weeping.”
Sirius grimaced, glancing towards the wall separating Regulus’ room from Pandora’s. “Yeah, I heard about the execution.” He leaned to take another sip from his goblet. “Welcome back,” he said sarcastically.
Regulus looked back out the window to where the block had stood. “The poor man.”
He felt Sirius’ eyes turn back to him. He didn’t want to look and see the suspicious expression on his face. He didn’t want to give Sirius a chance to read him either.
“The man was guilty of using magic, Reg,” Sirius stated. “He could have avoided that sentence by simply not using magic.”
“He wasn’t even guilty of using magic!” Reg could see Sirius was about to interrupt him so he spoke louder. “He was guilty of planning to use magic. And unless the king has learned to read minds, how can we be certain he was?”
Sirius glanced at the doorway at the mention of the king. “He was in possession of magical items.”
“Could have been someone else’s.”
Sirius gave him a ‘don’t-be-stupid’ look. Regulus hated that look. He turned back to the window.
Sirius sighed. “Look at us. Can’t go a day without arguing.”
Something deep in Regulus ached at the words. “I guess not,” he said quietly.
Sirius leaned in closer, his tone earnest. “Come down to the feast, yeah? We can even sit somewhere off to the side, if you don’t want the attention.”
Regulus recognised his offer as the figurative olive branch it was, but… “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got to wait for Pandora.”
“Well…” Sirius looked for an argument. “Where’s Lily?”
“With her, but–”
“Well, there you have it! Lily will look after her. Come on,” he pleaded.
“I… promised Pandora I wouldn’t eat without her.” A lie, but Regulus really felt he couldn’t go without her, and he knew Sirius wasn’t going to give up for anything less.
Another sigh from Sirius. “Right.” He seemed to accept defeat and began leaving the room.
Regulus felt bad about turning Sirius down and searched for something to say but came up short. Open communication had never really been either of the brothers’ forte.
“Hey, Reg?”
Sirius was standing in the doorway again, visibly searching for words–uncharacteristic for him. He seemed to be on the verge of asking something before changing his mind.
“I missed you,” he finally supplied.
Regulus blinked. Sirius must not have found a way to ask what he wanted and so just said whatever came to his mind first.
“I missed you too,” Regulus said, thinking it would be a lie. It wasn’t.
The back room where Remus was staying had once been used for storage, judging from the many chests and cots pushed against the walls. Poppy had helped him set up a cot, and some of the chests had been pushed to the side to make more room on the floor. Promises were made to fix up the room properly in the morning, but he wasn’t too fussed. He didn’t require much to get comfortable.
As he settled down to sleep, he heard a knock on the door to Poppy’s quarters. He heard movement as Poppy–and presumably Minerva, as well, as they had still been talking when he turned in for the night–went to the door. The door opened, and a conversation started up between the two women and–
Remus sat up. He knew that voice. Hurrying out of his makeshift room and down the stairs to the main room, he saw Minerva and Poppy at the far end of the room by the door to the rest of the castle, and through the door–
“Pete?”
“Remus!” Peter lit up.
“Who is this?” Minerva demanded.
“Er, this is Peter,” Remus replied. “I met him on the road here. Pete, what are you doing here?”
“Well,”–the blond boy looked uncomfortably between the two women–“things didn’t go to plan, and now I have nowhere to stay and no one I know besides you, Remus, so I thought… maybe…”
“No,” Minerva stated and tried to shut the door, but Poppy stopped her.
“Wait, what happened to your uncle?” Remus asked Peter.
“It’s… a bit of a long story,” he replied. “But I just need a place for a night or two! And then I’ll be out of your hair, I swear.”
Minerva gave Poppy a look which Remus took to mean absolutely not.
“Give us a second, will ya, Pete?” Remus shot out before closing the door.
“No,” Minerva repeated.
Poppy acted as though she didn’t hear her and turned to Remus. “Does he know?”
Remus shook his head but–feeling Pete deserved more from him–said, “He’s been a good friend though, and… I’d hate to leave him out on the street.”
Poppy looked hard at him, thoughts calculating behind her eyes.
“Absolutely not!” Minerva whispered harshly, her nostrils flaring.
“If it’s only for a day or two, what’s the harm?” Poppy said placatingly.
Minerva looked about ready to explode. She stormed out of the room towards Poppy’s private chambers. Poppy gave a relenting nod towards the door and followed after her.
Thanking her silently, Remus turned and reopened the door.
“Welcome in, Pete.”
“And then he told me Uncle Grouser died nearly twelve years ago, so… that was…”
“Bollocks,” Remus supplied.
“Yeah,” Peter laughed a little, though it sounded wet.
They were lying in the dark on the cots in Remus’ temporary living quarters. Remus couldn’t see Peter well in the dark, but he figured maybe they both preferred it that way as it sounded as though Peter was getting emotional again.
“I guess it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that he’s gone, given that we haven’t heard from him in so long, but that was just the way he was, you know?”
Remus didn’t, but he agreed nonetheless.
“And I suppose if you’re drunk and angry all the time, your heart is bound to give out eventually.”
A reasonable assumption, Remus asserted.
“Still, it’s rough when it’s family, innit?”
Remus stayed silent. Besides his mam, he didn’t really have any. It was just them. Had been for as long as he could remember.
“Anyway, the new blacksmith turned out to be a right decent chap. He said he’d let me show him some of my work tomorrow and see about making me an apprentice.”
Peter began talking about his ideas for how to impress the blacksmith–which was great, because Remus had gotten used to falling asleep while Peter talked. He was out before he knew it.
Fingertips brushed feather-soft across her skin. Her hair was gently gathered and draped over her shoulder. The fingers deftly brushed aside the hairs on the back of her neck, and Pandora couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her body.
“Sorry,” Lily apologised. “My hands must be so cold.”
I don’t mind.
Let me help you warm them.
Please don’t stop touching me.
Nope. She definitely wouldn’t be saying any of that. Instead, she focused on staying very still as Lily continued unlacing her dress leading trails of sparks down Pandora’s back.
Lily had helped dress and undress her for nearly as long as she could remember, but recently something had changed leaving her dizzy and breathless. This was a new feeling to her, or perhaps it wasn’t because it was Lily. Lily was the sun, stars, and moon in her eyes and always had been.
Pandora had always felt a little out of step with society, like everyone had been given instructions that she hadn’t. Sex and “attractiveness” (in the general sense) were apparently very important to the world at large and played a large role in people’s motivations and social status, but they meant so little to her that she often forgot about them entirely and was always so surprised when she found someone’s actions had stemmed from them. Then she would go and tell Regulus, who always gave her a fond, somewhat pitying look as she told him of her absolute shock in finding out someone was interested in her. It was one of the few points on which she and Regulus were on completely different wavelengths.
But with Lily…
It wasn’t quite what everyone else seemed to describe, but it was new and precious. It was a secret growing in her heart, soft and effervescent. Like a baby bird stretching its wings, it was hope of one day taking flight.
Lily finished unlacing Pandora’s dress and helped her take it off. Pandora had never understood the whole “butterflies” metaphor, but now what she felt was more like her chest was a beehive full of busy, humming bees. The chill air helped disguise her goose pimples as her dress slid off.
She turned to face Lily as Lily gathered up her discarded dress and picked up her nightgown from where it was laying on her bed. Quickly, Pandora ran behind the privacy screen in her room and removed her underclothes. She could have had Lily help, but recently that felt a little too… intimate, and she’d taken to doing it herself.
Lily draped her nightgown over the screen, and Pandora finished dressing as rapidly as she could. She tried her best to fix her hair, took a deep breath, and stepped out.
Lily was as beautiful as an angel. She had dark red hair falling around her shoulders, almond-shaped, emerald green eyes, and a face equal parts soft and fierce. She was looking down at Pandora’s bed as she turned down her blankets, dark eyelashes brushing sun-kissed skin. She glanced up at Pandora and the corners of her mouth softened into a smile.
She came closer, eyes so warm Pandora thought she’d melt. She fixed Pandora’s hair, and tied the opening of her nightgown closed over her chest. The bee-hum was so strong she was half-expecting Lily to hear it.
“Hey.” Lily waited until Pandora met her eyes. “I know you had a rough day today, so I got you some of your favourite, butterbeer, on your bedside table next to your nightly potion.” She tucked Pandora’s hair behind her ears. “Are you sure you’ll be alright if I leave you? If you need me, I can stay.”
Yes, please, stay. I want to stay so close to you I can soak up your warmth and then just bask in your glow.
But she wasn’t going to say that for many reasons, not least because she already had other plans for the night.
“I’ll be fine,” was all she ended up saying.
Lily looked at her for a long second before relenting. Pandora climbed into her bed and Lily kissed her forehead affectionately before leaving. Pandora counted to ten after Lily left the room before throwing her covers off and running to the opposite wall.
Hidden behind a tapestry, there was a door that she quickly located and rapped on. Almost immediately, it opened and there was Regulus. She flung herself into a hug, almost tipping over the tray in his arms.
“I wasn’t sure if you had eaten,” he said, “what with the king’s order, and all.”
Apparently, the king had taken offence that Regulus and Pandora had not joined for dinner and ordered that they either come down to the banquet or they wouldn’t eat at all.
Regulus continued, “This was delivered to my room a bit ago, so I wanted to be sure you got some too.”
“Oh, yes,” Pandora replied, practically dragging him to her bed. “That’s from Sirius.”
He stopped. “Sirius?”
“Yes, he and James apparently had extra food accidentally sent to their rooms and figured it only right that they shared.” She continued dragging him to her bedside. “Or at least, that’s what James told Lily when he dropped off a tray for me. Personally, I think they were just worried about us.”
Regulus snorted.
“So Sirius didn’t drop it off himself? He said he was going to. Insisted on it, in fact, because apparently… James had offered to do it for him.” She cast a teasing sideways glance at Regulus as she said it, placing particular weight on the second half of the sentence.
He sighed, put the platter on her bedside table, and fell backwards onto her bed. He just lay there, looking defeated.
“James said so himself to Lily,” Pandora stated, sitting next to him. Regulus closed his eyes.
“Well?” she prodded.
“No, Sirius did not give it to me himself.”
Pandora thumped him with a pillow. “You know that’s not what I was asking about.”
“There’s nothing else to talk about, James is just– He’s so–” He covered his face with his pillow and shouted into it.
She laughed. “Wait, wait. We have to get all set.”
Regulus pulled himself fully onto the bed, and she began to shut all the bed hangings. They had been doing this ever since they were children and had an oddly particular routine. Once the hangings were shut and they were both comfortably situated, she continued.
“Really though, I thought you did great at the welcoming ceremony.”
Regulus groaned into the pillow and rolled into a ball.
“You did! Well… up until the part where you started blushing and ran away.”
The noises coming from the pillow changed to something more like whimpering. He moved the pillow, curls flopped everywhere but where they should be. “I’m pathetic. I’m a sad, sad, pathetic person. I’m hopeless.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Pandora began soothingly. “And, you know? There might be a chance–”
“No,” Regulus said, half-sitting. “Please. We– Unless things have changed drastically in the past two years, he’s still into girls, right?”
“As far as anyone knows… yes.”
“Right.” He fell back, clearly disappointed even though he was pretending he hadn’t been hoping that the answer would be different.
“Hey,” Pandora nudged him with her foot. “Enough about him. How about you? How have you been?”
She and Regulus had always felt connected somehow. They had been born on the same day, so they were sometimes referred to as “the twins” even though they weren’t actually related.
She remembered the first time she had seen him when she was four and had first come to the castle. James had been loud and obnoxious, Sirius had… well, quite honestly, Sirius had scared her. He had intense, suspicious eyes and had still been very protective of Regulus back then. (Reasonable, considering what happened to their parents only a year before.) But Regulus…
He had been so quiet and gentle, with round, soft eyes–not at all what she’d expected of the son of the king’s most ruthless and feared general. She didn’t know how to explain it, but when they had met it was like they had known each other all their lives and had been waiting for the day they’d finally meet.
Growing up, they were inseparable. Something just felt… wrong when they weren’t together, so they had taken to sneaking into each other’s rooms when everyone else had gone to sleep. Especially on… bad nights.
“How have the nightmares been?” she asked.
Their eyes met and she knew without words how bad it had been for him. She had assumed as much from her own experiences but had asked him to be sure.
“Let’s just say I’m glad to be home,” he said finally.
She smiled. “I’m glad you’re home too,” she whispered, curling up next to him.
For as long as she could remember, the two of them had been plagued with nightmares. Horrible visions of sorrow and fear and rage which would cause them to wake up in a panic. She never could remember what happened in the dreams, only the feelings they left behind, but those were enough to keep her awake for most of the night. The only things that seemed to help were the nightly potions Poppy prepared for her, and Regulus. The dreams didn’t bother them as much when they were close.
“What about you?” Regulus asked. “Anything new to share?”
She thought of the brush of Lily’s fingers and the hum in her chest.
“Not really.”
She’d tell him later. It was still too new, too weak. For now it would remain with her. Just a precious, secret warmth in her heart. An exhilarating, intangible hope.
A whisper of something like… magic.