like calls to like
Sirius ushered Remus back out on deck, their mouths swollen and their hearts healing. The storm was thickening, congealing like old blood, scabbing the sky with dark pockets of thunder clouds. Marlene was pacing, clearly begging for some action, an excuse to set fire to the cannon fuses. Lily stood in front of Mary, helping the other girl adjust her scabbard. Their faces were tired.
James was sitting cross-legged in front of Pandora, having thrown himself down in the exact spot Remus and Sirius had left him. Pandora’s stained dress haloed her waist, like bug-eaten petals billowing from the pistil of a camellia. James had a notebook in front of him and was furiously jotting down notes as Pandora talked, his glasses sliding rebelliously down his nose. Evan, refusing to leave Pandora’s side, was indiscreetly trying to peek at James’s writing. Evan’s fingers absently ran up and down the curve of Pandora’s spine, tracking each vertebrae, a gesture that all at once communicated his deep anxiety and affection.
Remus and Sirius sat on either side of James. James barely registered their appearance with a small nod, scribbling at the notebook.
“We never saw the inside of the captain’s quarters,” Pandora told James, wringing her fingers, “Or hold of the ship.”
“The hull, you mean?” James said.
“Where they kept our things.”
“The hull.”
“Then yes. We were never to go in there, he said.”
More writing.
“And the crew. What did they look like? How did they seem?”
Pandora brushed a strand of hair from her face, “They all looked like people, I suppose. But then if the light hit them, you could see through their skin, like wet paper, almost.”
More writing.
“And they were twitchy,” Pandora continued, “Jerkish. They would be completely still one moment and seizing up the next.”
“Was Malfoy near them when they did that?” Remus asked.
“Yes. He would wake them up, in a sense. I figured they were all just scared of him, scared of looking lazy or idle on the ship.”
“Would they do this if he was not around?” James pressed.
Pandora thought for a moment.
“Yes. A few times they did it when Malfoy was absent,” she said at last.
Remus’s brow furrowed.
“Who else was around when you saw this?”
“Just me.” Pandora said.
Remus shifted, scooting closer to Pandora and crossing his legs. He offered his hands to her, palm up.
“Hold your hands above mine,” Remus said, experimentally, “Hover them.”
Pandora did so. Remus felt his palms grow warm and tense.
“Now press them down, just slightly.”
Pandora’s hands inched down closer to Remus’s. His palms began to itch.
“All the way.”
Their hands touched finally, palm to palm. Remus immediately recoiled, a bolt of magic transferring between their skin, sharp and burning. James and Sirius flinched at Remus’s sudden movement. Evan’s fingers suddenly stopped, gripping Pandora possessively.
Pandora had gone white in the face. Remus simply lay his hands in his lap.
“Magic,” he said plainly, “You have magic.”
“Did I hurt you?” Pandora’s voice was weak and tinny with fear.
“No,” Remus assured her, “Magic is attracted to itself. Like calls to like, and so forth.”
Remus gestured for one of Pandora’s hands again. She held it out to him. Gently, Remus used the edge of his shirt to dry Pandora’s hand and then his own.
“But the ocean resists this pull, makes it harder for two sources to come together,” Remus continued as he worked, “But if you remove its influence…”
Remus finished and pressed their bare palms together again. This time, there was no shock.
“...they’ll stick.” Remus smiled shyly.
Pandora rubbed at her hand in wonderment, “How do you know all this?”
Remus shrugged, “As I said; like calls to like.”
“But I thought you were void of magic now,” Evan interjected, “You said Malfoy drained you when he pulled you past your breaking point.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, something most likely astonishingly crass and snappy, but Remus spoke before he could.
“He did,” Remus agreed, “I meant it when I said no magic will come from my blood. Magic can only replenish itself if there is still enough of it to hold on to, to copy and replicate from within the source. And I just don’t have enough for that to happen. Malfoy truly took everything from me,” Remus shook his head, “I will never get it back. But the shadow of it will always lie within me, reaching out to other sources. It’s unusable, in any sense, but still there. Broken.”
Remus didn’t look at anyone. James, ever perceptive to the needs of his friends, rested his temple on Remus’s shoulder. Remus raised his head to Pandora.
“Normally, any other source of magic, one that is for the most part average in strength, will not have any effect on me. I can sense it, but faintly. It’s like a hook under my skin. Thin magic is a small tug of the hook.”
Remus crooked his index finger near the bottom of his ribs. He lightly pulled the metaphorical hook.
“But powerful sources are a harder pull,” Remus nodded to Pandora, “Like you. You’re a very strong source. Your magic is…heavy, almost. Permeable. I felt it on you the second we met.”
Pandora was silent, blank. She didn’t seem to be reacting at all to what Remus was saying.
Remus tilted his head, “Did you know this? That you had magic?”
Pandora wiped at her face.
“Reggie,” she started, slowly, “Reggie liked to say that I was magical. That he could feel I was. I never thought he meant anything by it.”
Sirius’s eyes widened, “Does that mean-”
“Maybe,” Remus answered before Sirius could finish, “But then again, Pandora is remarkably strong. Even without magic, you could still be tugged by it. Drawn to it.”
Remus looked past Pandora, to Evan.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Remus said to him.
Evan straightened.
“No, I do not.”
Remus pointed to where Evan’s hand traced Pandora’s back.
“You can feel it on her, can’t you?”
Evan’s hand stilled again.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do.”
When Evan didn’t concede, Remus huffed and explained.
“Magic is biological. It intertwines with the body, works with it. It settles into bones, sets into skin, flows through veins. That’s why magic can be pulled through bleeding. If I’m near Pandora, her magic calls to mine, and I feel it like a weight on my body. If she touches me, our magicks clash. If we’re covered in the sea, it’ll hurt. If not, it’ll just feel like a magnet, an incredibly attractive one. The ocean repels magic. Emotion makes it stronger”
Remus paused.
“You have no magic, Evan. I can feel that much. I can also feel how much you care. About Pandora. Your loyalty connects you two, in more ways than one.”
Pandora turned to Evan. His eyes were clouded, conflicted.
“Evan,” she said, softly, “Do not lie to me. I need to know if what Remus is saying is correct.”
Evan was silent, bated with breath held.
“If he’s right, if I really do have magic thick enough to pull ordinary people, it means I might be able to compete with Malfoy’s power. Isn’t that right?” Pandora looked to Remus. Remus nodded solemnly.
“I need to know, Evan,” she pleaded, “Do not lie for the sake of protecting me. I am not scared for myself. I am scared for our friends, for Reggie and Dorcas and Barty. They’re still on Malfoy’s ship. They need my help.”
Pandora leaned over and pressed her cheek to Evan’s, whispering to him.
“They need our help, Evan. Please.”
A moment of silence passed through them, cut only by the creak of the ship and the howl of the wind.
Evan exhaled raggedly.
“Yes,” he said, holding Pandora close, “He’s right. I can feel it.”
“Then Remus is right,” James said, “You could fight Malfoy.”
“Did someone say fight?” Marlene called out across the deck. James hastily waved her off.
“Not in the traditional sense,” Remus clarified, “What I meant was that it could be possible for Pandora sense ghouls.”
“We can’t do that?” James asked, referring to himself, Sirius, and Evan.
“You can, just not as well. They’ll look more people-ish. To Pandora, they’ll clearly be ghosts. Similarly, that means she can sense Malfoy too. Know when he’s around and so forth.”
“Could I feel if Regulus had magic?” Pandora blurted out, “Now that I know what it is supposed to feel like.
Remus hesitated, his response vague and measured.
“If he had it, yes. I suppose you could,” Remus said, “But don’t go looking for something that isn’t there, Pandora. Remember we’re on the ocean. It’s possible you won’t feel it at all, even if it is there”
“But if he’s strong, I will,” Pandora reaffirmed.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Remus didn’t know exactly why the idea of Regulus possessing magic bothered him so much, but it did. It reflected his own inadequacy. It made Regulus dangerous. It made Regulus interesting.
Pick a reason. It was all the same in the end.
“Could Pandora raise ghouls?” Evan’s question was one they had all been hoping to ask. He was pointed, direct, unhindered by shame. He wanted to know.
“She could,” Remus said, quite honestly, “But I would strongly recommend against it.”
“Hypothetically,” Evan persisted, “What if I was killed? Could she bring me back?”
“Evan!” Pandora sputtered in disbelief.
“Let’s say I was. Could Pandora bleed herself and bring me back as a ghoul?”
Remus didn’t want to foster such an idea aboard Lady Lily. But he also couldn’t look at Pandora’s terrified face or watch Evan lovingly trace her back and well enough lie to the both of them.
“You wouldn’t be the same,” Remus compromised, “You wouldn’t be you anymore. You wouldn’t be Evan Rosier. You’d be a ghoul. Nameless. Faceless. And under Pandora’s will. Depending on her strength, which to be clear, we’re not one hundred percent on how far she can go at the moment, it’s possible you would be unable to function outside of her explicit and constant command.”
“You would be just as well a dead man walking, Evan.” Pandora said, “I won’t subject anyone to that fate.”
“You said it’s possible, Moony,” James said, “What about the other possibility?”
“It’s also possible that could not be the case.”
“How so?”
“If Pandora pours enough magic into him, he could be autonomous. Walking around, talking of his own volition. He could even become magical himself, a conduit of Pandora’s power. It really depends.”
“Then we shouldn’t risk it.” James decided.
“Agreed.” Evan said.
“I don’t mean to scare you, Pandora,” Remus said, “I don’t. But I don’t want you to feel out of control either. Is there anything else you want to know? Anything I can help with?”
“I cannot use my magic at all,” she admitted, “I wouldn’t know where to start with it.”
Remus shook his head, “It’s not something that can be taught in a few hours. It takes time, physical effort. From what I’ve seen, it is a years long process with great sacrifice. No one could teach that in so short a time. Let alone me.”
“Then no, that is all I should know.”
James coughed, “And I think I have all I need from you, Pandora. Thank you,” he looked down at his notes, a conglomerate of potential sketches of Narcissa’s Revenge and notes jotted down in the margins, arrows and tags littering the page.
Remus was glad to stop talking, the matter settled.
He released all the air in his chest. Sirius’s hand laced into his, cold and comforting.
“I can’t feel it on you,” Sirius said quietly.
Remus shrugged, loose and small and conciliatory, as if everything he had just shared was a drop in the bucket, alone in the ocean of his grief. Remus liked to think that his ignorance of his own magic had been a blessing. If he had something, something so incredible the very sea defied his being, and he didn’t know, it meant he never had the chance to miss it. He shouldn’t- couldn’t- feel sad about something that was never really his. Even though, somewhere dark inside of him, he knew he must have been strong like Pandora. Malfoy bled him constantly for nearly a year. No ordinary source could have lasted that long and made it to see the other side.
That was the cruel bit about pulling blood for necromancy. Kill the source, and they are the only one who can’t be resurrected, abandoned forever on the shores of death, watching others ferry the opposite way on the boat of their own magic. Stolen. Repurposed for a twisted cause.
Remus shook his head, as if trying to dispel the thoughts from his hair like water. He didn’t like to be so sentimental. Sometimes when he thought about these things, he was.
He squeezed Sirius’s hand.
“And no one ever will.”
“Hey lovebirds!”
Regulus’s voice, coarse and teasing, cut through the boom of the storm. Remus jerked his head upwards to the sky.
Rope wound to his elbow, Regulus stood tall and unsinkable on the rails of Narcissa’s Revenge. Tucked into his side was a girl with a torn dress and long braids, her arms desperately clamped around his middle.
Regulus shifted on his feet. He saw Remus staring and winked. In a wave of clarity, Remus realized he was going to jump ship. Literally.
Remus and Sirius exchanged a deeply troubled glance before darting, fast as they could, across deck to scout Regulus’s plane of descent.
They weren’t fast enough.
Faster still was the bullet that imbedded itself in Regulus’s stomach from behind, the gunshot louder than any peal of thunder. Faster still was blood that spread like wildfire through his shirt, furious and scarlet. Faster still was the rock of Lady Lily with cannon blasts, faster still did the rope slide from Regulus’s grasp.
Faster still did Regulus and Dorcas fall into the sea.