Author's note: Deathly Hallows + Ragtime A dream I had that became this fanfic. I hope you enjoy and review!
"Now, this one is very difficult…only the most accomplished magicians can perform a trick of this magnitude. Now the trick…is total concentration…so I shall need complete silence…." Professor Daedalus Carmendy looked up from the demonstration that was being staged on what normally served as his desk. At the back of his classroom, two of his 7th-year boys had their heads together and were chattering rather animatedly about what could only be Quidditch. His brow furrowed, and, while his guest bent lower over his trick, he gave a quick flick of his wand that served to silence the two boys, who chattered on obliviously. He scanned the room for any more troublemakers, but all seemed to be keeping out of mischief. Will Cornel was leaning his head on his arm and trying in vain to appear awake, Geoffrey Bowles was doodling distractedly on the back cover of his charms textbook, and Isabelle Itchin was passing notes with the girl next to her.
Daedalus sighed and turned his attention back to the charismatic gentleman in front of him. The magician continued to make adjustments to his set-up, warbling on in his elusive engaging tone, flourishing his red cape and brandishing a black wand with small, white tips. Upon the table lay some of his equipment: a gleaming black top hat sitting on its lid from which he had pulled a white rabbit, an empty brass cage that had once contained doves, a pair of muggle handcuffs that he had escaped from almost immediately, and on the floor the large trunk from which he kept pulling his instruments, upon which was painted "Mylar the Magnificent!" in spangled letters. The students clapped dutifully as "Mylar" vanished his volunteer, Flora Crosley, and then assured them not to be worried (though none of them seemed the least bit concerned) their young friend was in no danger, not when Mylar the Magnificent was around! At this, Tybalt Willoughby rolled his eyes clear to the ceiling, and Kate Algernon snorted so loudly that Daedalus shot her a quick look and she retreated swiftly into a fit of deceptive coughs. The young charms professor could not blame his students. Muggle magic was, after all, only an imitation of what they themselves studied here everyday at Hogwarts. But as it was the last class before the holidays, Daedalus thought he might bring in a muggle magician to perform for the class as a novelty. It had been easy enough to modify portions of the man's memory--he would remember little of today--and no doubt the man was convinced he was performing in an edgy sort of themed nightclub and not a classroom of magic students in an ancient castle that housed one of the most renowned wizarding schools in the world. In a flash of white smoke, Flora reappeared, looking only slightly dazed, and the class clapped again. "Thank you, thank you." Mylar bowed low. "And now, to finish off my act, I shall attempt to levitate my assistant." More perfunctory applause. As the performer pulled the needed items from his trunk, Daedalus again scanned the room. Kate Algernon was now bewitching snow to fall upon her neighbor. With a flick of his wand hers went flying, clattering to the floor. The magician didn't flinch, and only looked up when Daedalus barked "Detention, Algernon. Tonight."
Only one student seemed to be interested in what Mylar was doing. At the back of the classroom, a young witch peered intensely over her desk, watching the magician very closely. She was not a bad-looking witch, her features were certainly not as glamorous as her mother's had been, but she had a creamy complexion, flashing green eyes that could do a man in were they directed with such enthusiasm as they were now, and glossy brown hair not unlike the wavy locks that graced his own head. The magician ended his performance with a final grand gesture, and even Will Cornel jostled awake to applaud his departure. Daedalus eyed the young witch with a wary eye as she clapped enthusiastically and beamed down at the bowing Mylar. After he had packed up his things, Daedalus put the magician in the care of the groundskeeper and dismissed his class with a "Merry Christmas." The young witch took her time gathering her books and consequently was the last one to leave. Deadalus, wanting to avoid this conversation, turned to go, but she called after him. "Professor Carmendy!" He turned. "Miss Denslow. How can I be of service to you?" He peered down at her warningly. Then, she giggled. "Oh come now professor. I want to talk to you." She glanced at the door and threw her arms around him in a quick hug. He hugged her back, all the while protesting weakly "Now Aria, I've told you, while at school I am your professor, and you must treat me as such." She pulled out of the hug, grinning mischievously.
"Oh really, Lus," she replied. "It's not like everyone doesn't know we're cousins. Besides, I haven't gotten to do that in months!" Daedalus laughed, put down his books and shrugged off his professor's robes, sitting down on the edge of his desk, which made him look much more his boyish 21 years. She eyed him critically and then reached up a hand to ruffle his hair before he could raise a hand to swat her off. "That's better. That's the Lus Carmendy I know and love."
"Ok. Now you have me all young and unprofessional-looking. And fraternizing with my student. All perfect instances for Headmistress McGonogal to walk by and reprimand me. So what is this about?" Though Daedalus was sure he knew.
"Well," she replied, her green eyes lighting up, "I wanted to talk to you about next year."
"What about it?" he asked, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt.
"Well," she hesitated, "you and I both know that I don't have the marks to make it as a healer. And I've changed my career goal about 50 times at least--"
"But Aria, as I keep telling you, you could have the marks if you only applied yourself a little more. You really have a knack for divination, and look how hard you try. If you could show that dedicat--" She held up a hand to stop him.
"Spare me, cousin," she said quietly and even a bit sadly, "I've heard it all before." she sighed. "I dunno what's wrong with me…I just…can't seem to get enthused about any of the career options you and Aunt Circe place before me."
"That's only because you haven't found the job that interests you yet! There are loads of other options out there, and we can keep looking! I haven't given up on you yet, and neither has--"
"But Lus! I'm not like you and Aunt Circe! I'll never be as great as you and her and Uncle Melampus--and my mum." She stopped here and looked at her feet. There was a silence. When she spoke again her voice came out in a choked mumble. "I'll never be as grand as she was." Daedalus felt guilty for letting Calliope Denslow slip into this conversation. He knew his cousin felt constantly compared to her remarkable mother. Calliope had been a top name at the ministry before she had died giving birth to Aria. She was mesmerizingly beautiful and well-liked, not to mention an extraordinarily talented witch, and her loss was a great blow to the wizarding world. Since her childhood, everyone had wanted and expected Aria to take her mother's place in society. But those who harbored any hopes of the child rising to celebrity had soon realized that the young girl was to be nothing more than an average witch. Her muggle father had died of grief shortly after her mother, and she had grown up with Daedalus in her Aunt's house. Despite their age difference, Aria had bonded very strongly with her cousin, and the bond still remained today, so that he was more a brother than a cousin. Now he summoned all of his brotherly compassion as he reached out and gathered his young cousin to him. He wrapped his reassuring arms around her for few minutes while she wept silently. Soon she emerged, biting her lip and saying solemnly,
"I'm sorry. I--d-didn't mean to get so upset. But Lus-- I am worried. Next year, I can't come back here and tough it out through my classes until break. I can't keep wafting around changing my plans every time the wind changes. I'll need a career. But I just don't know what to do." Her worry resounded in her voice, which now seemed far older than her 17 years, and yet there was a desperate pleading in it that bespoke childish helplessness. Again there was silence. Daedalus knew there was something more to all of this.
"Aria," he prompted, "are you trying to tell me you want to change your career goal yet again?" Her look of melancholy melted as her face was fixed with the fiery determination and excitement that she had inherited from her mother.
"Well, yes, in a way." She looked at him sideways. "The truth is-er, well, I was thinking about making a focus on muggle magic." She said it quickly as though it might make the idea seem less shocking or utterly ridiculous. It was a rather crazy idea, but one that had haunted her thoughts repeatedly and that she had pushed away as an absurd fancy, and which finally, she had realized as a true passion. Watching Mylar today had confirmed it. Daedalus didn't respond immediately. He walked over to a stack of books behind his desk and began to arrange the books into stacks. As though they were talking about an article in The Quibbler, Daedalus said casually, "Muggle magic? Right. Very Funny." He hoped his tone would say "drop it", but Aria didn't look the least bit deterred. She walked over to him and put a hand on the large tome he was holding. She looked up into his face.
"Lus, I'm serious." He turned back to his stacking. "I've thought about this! It's something I really want. I thought you of all people would understand." She waited to see the effect of her words. Her cousin sighed and stopped his stacking and sat down.
"Aria, that was only a hobby. And we were kids, it was ok then. Just a game. But Aria, we're not kids anymore. Besides, muggle magicians are only fit for carnivals and nightclubs and birthday parties. That's what your life would become! An audience too drunk or too young to really appreciate your talent."
"Ha! And what 'talent' does anyone appreciate here? My faulty transfigurations, my rancid potions, or perhaps my complete and utter inability to charm anything larger than a small dog?! I want to be at those nightclubs and birthday parties! That's all I'm fit for! And it's high time the family stopped being so high and mighty. My father was a muggle, and your grandfather was a muggle magician, and there's nothing wrong with that!"
"Aria, you aren't as bad as all that. Really, you're better than some of my students."
"Yeah, your first years. But that's not the point. The point is, I want to learn to be a muggle magician. And there's only one person who can teach me what I want to know."
Daedalus was quiet. He was thinking about how, when he was 10, he had happened upon his grandfather's magic act in the attic. Cadmus Carmendy had once been quite a renowned magician, as his father Diomedes before him. Diomedes had been a colleague and associate of great magicians like Harry Houdini and Kellar the Magnificent. Daedalus had been fascinated by what he had found, and studied all of the tricks in books. With Aria as his only confidante, the boy spent all his time in the attic with his grandfather's old things. For weeks he practiced, and then, at Christmas, he surprised everyone by giving a show as "Daedalus the Daring!" The small performances had continued as a family novelty for the rest of the year, but when he turned 11, he was told to put away all of this silly magic and focus on the real magic that he would be taught at school. However, his father had remarked that he had been quite good, and on the occasion that he still tried a small trick, he found he was as good as he had ever been.
"Please, Lus. You don't have to teach me everything. I already know a few small tricks, and I've been reading up on the rest in grandfather's books. So all you have to do is show me how." Daedalus sighed again.
"You really want to do this? You're sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Alright then."
He regained his instructive professorial tone. "You've been studying grandfather's magical books. That's good. That will give you an understanding of classic muggle magic. But muggle magic has changed a lot since then. It's bigger and flashier now, though all magicians start with the same basic slight of hand tricks. The key to muggle magic is illusion. When we do it, it's real. When they do it, it's fake, but it must look real. A true magician never reveals his--or her--secrets." He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a book which he held out to her. "It's not going to be easy. I think you're going to need this."
Aria could tell right off this was no wizard book. It had a bright and glossy cover splattered with pictures of muggle magicians performing a series of impressive looking tricks. Sparkling letters said Modern Magic.
"Lus, what--?" she started, giving him a mischievous look. He shrugged sheepishly.
"It's still a hobby of mine," he admitted. And before he knew it he had a face full of dark, wavy hair. She was hugging him and babbling excitedly.
"Then you're really going to help me? I'm--I mean, we're going to do it! Oh, Lus thank you!" He pulled her apart and looked sternly into her face.
"Just make sure you become the best darn magician there ever was. You do our family proud." He grinned at her. She grinned back and hugged him again, laughing.
"Now then," he sobered, pulling his robes back over his shoulders, "I think it's time for dinner, and I don't intend to be late just because you've finally decided on a career goal."
And with that he picked up his books and ushered her out of the door, locking it behind him. As they walked down the festooned corridors to the great hall, chatting about what Aria's magician name should be, Daedalus had to admit that, though he was still worried, the idea of Aria becoming a muggle magician seemed right somehow. It would be a long hard process he knew, but she would find her place in the muggle world, and Daedalus thought with a pang of sadness that he would not be able to see her as often as he did now. He wanted to turn to her and say something meaningful, but before he could open his mouth the great hall appeared before them, and Aria was bounding off to take her seat among her fellow Hufflepuffs. He watched her go, and smiled. Heaven knew what his mother was going to say, but whatever the family reaction, Aria the Amazing was going to make an incomparable magician.
IT WAS lunchtime, but Professor Daedalus Carmendy was not eating lunch in the Great Hall with the rest of the professors. He was bent over a stack of essays that he was grading, occasionally making small marks with his quill. At intervals he would stop and take a bite of the stew he had ordered from one of the house elves, and he whistled contentedly as he graded. Suddenly there was a tap on his classroom door, and without looking up, Daedalus flicked a wand at the door and it opened to reveal a red-headed 2nd year, with a copious amount of freckles. She walked over to his desk. He looked up and smiled at her. "Yes?"
"Uncle George sent this for you, Professor." she proffered a sealed parchment. He took it.
"Thank you, Miss Weasley. Give my regards to your uncle and aunt, and tell your father that I'm counting on sharing seats with him at the Cup this summer."
"I will, Professor." she grinned, and then was off and down the hall before any more could be said.
Daedalus put down his quill and opened the letter. George Weasley was proprietor of the jokeshop where his cousin Aria had purchased some of her magician equipment, and the family were good friends of the Carmendys. There was a muggle magazine clipping inside, and the parchment simply said
"Dad found this. Thought you might be interested."
Daedalus looked down at the article and saw his cousin's face beaming back at him. She wore an outfit covered in sequins and held a narrow, white-tipped wand. Beside her was a very dashing young muggle magician in vibrant silks. The article was titled "Magical Mistress Aria the Amazing Tells All: How she got started, how she landed her hunk of a husband, what it's like being a female magician, and what her obsession with owls is all about." Daedalus grinned. He began to read the article. About halfway down the page, a certain question caught his eye.
Q: So, who could you say is your one inspiration?
A: Well, there's of course my Great-Great Uncle Cadmus and Great Uncle Diomedes, and of course my husband, but more than anything I would have to say my cousin, Daedalus. He's the one who began my training and he's the one who first believed in me. Taught me everything I know.
Q: So your cousin, does he do magic?
A: Yes, he's quite good at it. He teaches magic, actually. He never seemed to want to make a profession of it like I have, but I'm very deeply indebted to him.
The article went on to talk about Aria's husband and how she felt about having kids. Daedalus stopped reading, and he was surprised to find that he was very moved by what Aria had said. He read the exchange over again, and smiled. It had been 3 years since Aria had left school and gone to live and work in the muggle world. He had seen her very seldom since then, holidays and her wedding, but he still wrote her often, and he collected whatever small clippings The Prophet printed about her. The wizarding world had been shocked when Calliope Denslow's daughter had decided on a career in muggle magic, and the aging Rita Skeeter had suggested that it perhaps had to do with her abnormal upbringing and the pressures of living up to her mother's reputation. His mother had been angry at first but now she even boasted about her unusual niece. Aria had done well. She was one of the biggest names in muggle magic in the United States and Europe, and she even played at an extravaganza alongside acts like Penn and Teller. And now, according to her last letter, she was expecting a child. As he turned back to his unfinished grading, Daedalus wondered if the child would come to Hogwarts. Imagining Aria again as a young witch in her Hufflepuff robes, Daedalus smiled, picked up his quill, and went back to work.