Chapter 6 - Understanding
Song Suggestion:
All We Do - Oh Wonder
A week slipped away unnoticeably. Gregorovitch and I at last began the real wand-making process, to turn the possibility into reality. The previous week, we cogitated the feasible ways to create a functioning metallic wand.
The main problem we had to overcome was how to place the wand core into a metal stick. Our initial plan was to melt the metal and set the wand core into a wand mould, before pouring the molten metal into it to enclose the core.
We picked zinc and dragon heartstring for the test. Zinc wasn't too reactive or inert and I assumed it could be a wand quality metal. Some metals like silver and gold were too inactive, they had the tendency of not responding to any wizard's commands. For the core, since we were looking for a more obvious result, we selected the most aggressive and responsive type - dragon heartstring.
I heated up the zinc metal to over 400℃ until it was liquified, before I poured the molten metal into the wand mould, where the filamentous core had been placed. We waited until the metal chilled down and transformed back to solid form again. However, when I took the "wand" out of the mould, I couldn't sense any magical power transmitting to my body. It's a total failure with no doubt. We couldn't even call it a wand as it lacked the ability to convert magical energy. The high temperature of the molten metal had most likely broken down the magical ability of the wand core and made it not working.
Gregorovitch seemed to sense my frustration as he pat my back in a comforting way. He's a supportive partner. He's always determined and positive about everything wandlore. It certainly was the thing he valued and felt passionate about the most in life.
Shortly, someone hammered on the office door before they opened it. I examined the clock on the craft table and realized it was dinner time. A boy who's no older than 12 slipped silently into the room. His oversized white tunic swayed as he carefully placed a tray of food on the wooden table.
"Honestly, my boy, my deteriorating brain has better memory than yours. We've had two people here for more than a week," Gregorovitch nodded at the one and only set meal on the table. It used to be two, but currently there's only one.
"Sorry, Sir. Mr. Jabez asked me to bring him Miss and he only ordered me to bring you dinner," the boy answered monotonically as if he's under an Imperio to recite the orders.
"Oh, so apparently I'm going to have dinner all alone," the old wandmaker said grumpily.
"Why would Jabez want to see me?"
"Who knows. No one knows what exactly he's thinking," he shrugged.
"I hope he's not going to punish me because of our slow progress," I mumbled worriedly.
"Don't worry, he won't," Gregorovitch reassured, placing his hand on my shoulder. I didn't understand why he sounded so confident.
"Miss, please come with me." the boy who's standing next to the door waited for me to follow.
The boy hurried ahead of me and led me downstairs. We passed through the deserted corridor and I soon found out that we're heading to my room. The boy abruptly halted when I was in front of the door of my room. I wondered why he needed to knock the door when the owner had been standing next to him already. But he's not knocking on the door I was facing, but the one on the right. Within a few seconds, the door was opened by the owner of the room.
Jabez whispered something to the boy and the boy nodded obediently. I couldn't figure out what he'd said since he'd kept his voice inaudibly low. I decided to go back to my room before a deep voice interrupted my motion.
"Miss Y/L/N, you're going to the wrong room," Jabez announced matter-of-factly.
I turned to look at the young man who's leaning against the door frame casually. The little boy was out of sight.
Later, I found myself in a spacious room, sitting at a small dining table for two. Utensils and a bottle of Merlot were nicely set on the tablecloth. Sitting elegantly across from me was Jabez in a crisp white shirt with its top two buttons left undone. His jet-black hair was tied up into a casual bun.
With a snap of his fingers, the plates were no longer empty. Steaks occupied the porcelains and made two exact same dishes. The wine bottle hovered into the air and tilted as he waved his hand swiftly. The content slowly streamed down from the rim and contaminated the glass with a dark shade of red.
The venison steak alone was good enough, but with the company of Merlot, the dish was unbeatable. The medium-bodied wine provided a velvety mouthfeel while showcasing the intense blackberry flavours that complemented the venison's wild taste. It's no different from or even better than what you got served in a Michelin's restaurant.
"How's it going?" he inquired, meanwhile, slicing his steak into pieces gracefully.
My disquiet was once washed away by the lusciousness, and it rushed back instantly when the question was thrown at my face. Did he put poison in the food?
"Not much progress has been made. I promise I've been trying my best," I nervously put down the fork and raised my hands in surrender.
He chuckled at my gesture. What's so funny?
"You think I asked for you because I wanna punish you? No, I never plan to do that. From what I know about you, I'm sure you're working hard and I appreciate it,"
"Sounds like you've known me for a long time,"
"It's long, long enough for me at least," he smiled vaguely.
"Jabez, please, can I borrow an owl? I want to let my parents know I'm safe. I don't want them to worry,"
"Sorry, I'm afraid not,"
"Please, they must be worried," I pleaded determinedly.
He contemplated before he gave in.
"Okay, but I'll read the letter first and I'll owl it for you,"
"Thank you,"
"Why? You're kept here because of me,"
"True, I hate you for that but I appreciate your concession,"
He pursed his lips and didn't say anything.
"Are your parents living here?" I tried to change to topic to diffuse the tension.
"I'm an orphan. The only family I have is my brother. I'd lived as a vagrant for half of my life. To survive, I stole, I fought and even killed. It's the law of jungle - the weak are the prey of the strong,"
"Oh..." Wrong choice of topic.
"Enough about me. Let's talk about you. You've been living in London since childhood, right?"
"Yes, how do you know that?"
"As I said, I knew you far better than you think, Y/N," he replied smugly.
It was his first time addressing me by my name. It felt like the distance between us was shortened since I'd known more about him. It almost felt like I was having dinner with a friend. Yet, he wasn't anything close to that. He's a criminal who placed me under house arrest, though I had to admit, he'd been acting too friendly for you to believe he's even a terrorist, a dark wizard.
We sat in silence after we'd finished the dishes. He swirled his wine insouciantly, never leaving his brown eyes off the red content. Taking a sip of alcohol, I plucked up my courage and asked him a very personal question.
"Why did you join the Taliban, Jabez?"
His eyes were closed as he took a deep breath. The anxiety filled the quiet room. I waited. But he didn't move or say anything. He's not going to answer that.
A dull sound broke the dead silence as the wine glass was placed on the table. Then, Jabez kept his eyes closed and spoke.
"I was born in the UK. My parents probably didn't have British citizenships as I never had the chance to go to school. When I was eight, a priest took me to his church as he found I was dying of starvation. He'd looked after me for like a year. That's the most peaceful period of my childhood. However, one day I performed accidental magic. The priest freaked out and thrown me out of the church, thought I had sold my soul to Satan to earn the power. Turbulence came back to my once stable life. At the age of 11, when the loads of you got your Hogwarts letter, I was struggling to live. Every day was much the same. I never knew the meaning of life. In my childhood, survive is the only thing in my head.
"One time, I stole a wallet from a middle-aged man, I unfortunately got caught. He kept hitting me mercilessly, not even cared that I was dying in pain. Accidental magic saved me. The man was thrown away by a great force and he collided with the brick wall of the alley. His head hit the wall with a low thump and he never moved again. I panicked. I was 17 and I became a murderer. I stared at the lifeless body helplessly for ages, until someone tugged me away. I thought I was caught by the police, but no, my brother had saved me from the mess and brought me here. A new life was given to me. I had sworn to Allah that I'd follow him till my last breath of my life,"
The young man who's opposite me stood up abruptly. He headed to the other side of the room and kept his back at me, seemingly not wanting me to see his face. He ran his fingers into his black hair and tousled the strands.
"You didn't intend to kill him,"
"No, it didn't change the fact that I'm a murderer,"
"You're not evil, Jabez. There's no black and no white, just shades of grey,"
"Right. There's no black and no white, just shades of grey. But I'm probably in the darkest shade of all. I am sinful. The first one might be an accident, but the followings aren't. I killed them at will,"
"But..." I tried to argue, but no words came out.
"Miss Y/L/N, you may go," he interjected firmly without facing me.
So we're back to last name basis again. He's pushing me away.
When I just stepped out of the room, his voice made me halt in my pace.
"When you've finished the letter, give it to the servant. They'll bring it to me."
I nodded and closed the door. The last thing I'd seen in the room was a man bracing his palm against the wall. He clearly needed privacy. Even my room's just next to his, he demanded me to hand the letter to the servant instead of giving him in person. It must be torturous for him to recall what happened in his tragic childhood. I felt sorry for even asking the question, however, a curtain of mystery was removed and Jabez became slightly transparent in my eyes. I didn't regret it.
At my own room, I scribbled comforting words on a piece of parchment in order to remove some of my patients' worry. About an hour later, the same boy I'd seen earlier came to my room. I handed the scroll of parchment to him and watched him knocked on Jabez's door. I was hoping to see him when he opened the door for the kid, unfortunately I didn't have as much luck. He didn't step out of the room. All I could see was his tanned arm outstretched to collect the letter.
I hoped the man on the other side of the wall did well before I dozed off in my bed.
A few more days were passed. Gregorovitch and I were still lack of luck. I almost began to think that my theories were merely my delusional ideas until I replaced zinc with tin metal. I could feel the a slight energy flew as I flicked the wand. Though, after a minute or two, the sensation was gone. The melting point of tin was half of that of zinc, still, the temperature was too high for the wand core to overcome. Other metals which had low melting point were either toxic, radioactive, or too reactive. I had to figure out a new way to enclose the wand core with metal.
Jabez was nowhere to be seen since that stressful night.
I was reading Metals and Their Magical Properties at my room when I got a message from a servant. It's almost midnight and none of them had ever come at this hour before. I unfolded the small piece of parchment. The handwriting was illegible. I could barely figure out the words:
You have a visitor. Come to the basement.
The paper slipped through my fingers and fell on the mattress. I sprinted out of the room to the staircase. Before I set a foot on the lowest floor of the building, I'd already known what it's built for. I'd spent a day there before.
Torches were hung on the wall, bringing warmness and brightness to the stone cold prison. I used up all my strength to dash to the heart of the cellar as I saw the familiar long black hair. Jabez was sitting on a stool with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes were staring coldly at something behind the metal bars.
I took a glimpse.
White blond hair was the first thing came into sight. The pointy chin and pale skin followed. The occupant of the cell was leaning his head against the wall. His wrists and ankles were tied the way they'd done to me not long ago. He breathed deeply and slowly. He was unconscious.
Then, I heard myself screaming.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO DRACO?"
A/N: We just hit 1k views on Wattpad! Hooray! The favourable votes and support you gave me help this work grow. Thank you so much.
Woah! Finally you and Draco met again after several lonely chapters! But why did Draco end up in the prison?
I actually enjoyed writing Jabez a lot. It's weird bc I'm never interested in any OCs when reading other people's works. But when I'm writing Jabez, I always find it addicting. Slowly unveiling the secretive and complex character is fun! I hope you enjoy reading him too!
Btw I've changed the chapter titles a bit and also added an introduction to make the work look more complete.