December, 2018.
Jennifer
The air was heavy with the scent of coffee and cinnamon, gingerbread and toffee, and it was hard to hear Mum over the bustle of baristas, sputtering of the espresso machine and the hiss of the steaming milk. "Are you sure you don't want me to wait until Susie gets here? It would be nice to meet her...and I don't like leaving you here..."
We were all standing in the packed Busy Bee cafe in Salisbury, Wiltshire. Mum and Dad had both come inside with us despite Juliet's slightly panicked protestations that there was no need, and of course had immediately discovered the absence of Susie.
Glancing at me, Juliet pulled out her phone and I cottoned on instantly. Mum and Dad would have no idea that magical families didn't use mobiles.
"No, it's okay, Mum," Juliet said breezily, peering at the screen. "I've just had a text from Susie. She says she missed her bus but she's on her way. I don't want to make you late for Aunt Anna and Uncle Dave. Jennifer and I can read and have a drink until she gets here."
But both Mum and Dad looked unconvinced, and behind their backs I quickly pulled my phone out too, unlocked it, tapped Contacts, and touched Juliet's name. I slipped it back into my pocket as Juliet's phone rang.
Juliet answered my call, saying chirpily, "Susie! Hi! Yes, I got your text, thanks – how did you manage to miss your bus, silly...we're in the Busy Bee, yeah...how have your holidays been? Oh that's cool..." and warbled on cheerily, whilst motioning to Mum and Dad to go. They were always good about not listening in on our private phone conversations, and after sharing a quick glance, Dad patted Juliet on the shoulder and Mum hugged me then they left, mouthing, "Be good!"
Juliet hung up as soon as they left and grinned at me. "I was hoping you'd do that," she said.
"Twin minds think alike, doubles seldom differ," I answered and we both giggled. That was something we used to say as kids. Since Juliet got back six days ago we had been inseparable, and slipped back into old habits like a second skin. Hungry for each other's company, we had chattered nonstop and stayed up late every night, talking...soon it seemed as though I knew Hogwarts as well as my sister did, and I was as familiar with the girls in her House and the students in her classes as she was. I didn't tell her quite everything about Greenhill Academy, but that didn't matter. I didn't want her to worry.
And this Christmas, here we were in Salisbury, the day of the Winter Solstice. Both of us were in high spirits, nervous but terribly excited. Everything was meticulously planned. We both moved towards the counter to order hot chocolates, having decided beforehand to stay in the cafe for a short while in case Mum and Dad didn't drive off immediately and saw us exit, Susie-less.
We squeezed around a table tucked away in a cosy corner, and drank our hot chocolates slowly, relaxing a little now we were alone.
"So, the hotel is actually a bus ride out of the town centre," I said, recapping our plans. "We check in and drop our overnight stuff, then get the bus back into town and then there's a shuttle bus to Stonehenge for the Solstice. Then we need to find this Zephyr guy."
"At the foot of the seventh stone," Juliet reminded me.
"Yep, that's the one."
We had spent a lot of time this Christmas holiday on a forum in a fascinating website we had found after much trawling online, moonfiremagic dot com. Moonfire Magic seemed to be a hidden hub for practising pagans, druids and Wiccans, and some of the things we had read on there made our breath catch in our throats. The more we dug the more we revealed of this secretive community, glimpsing photos of mystical-looking rituals, and we had even found a few pictures of Muggle druids using actual wands!
Eventually we had summoned up the courage to post on the forum ourselves, under the fake names SilverStar and MidnightMoon. Without revealing the full truth, we explained we would be at Stonehenge for the Solstice and asked if anyone would be there who could help MidnightMoon to become fully initiated into the magical druid world. Our request was eagerly passed on and became a hot topic; within two days it had reached the person many online druids insisted was the one we were looking for: Zephyr, a great leader in this mystical world. He had told us to meet him at the seventh stone at nine o'clock on December twenty-first. Hardly daring to believe our luck, we replied to say that we would be there, and now I looked into Juliet's blue eyes and saw my own hope and eagerness reflected there.
But first we had to get our hotel sorted for the night. We downed the last dregs of our delicious hot chocolate and made our way to the bus stop, checking our rather meagre pool of savings.
"Forty-three pounds and fifty pence," I muttered, calculating quickly. "The hotel room is thirty. That leaves us just over thirteen quid for buses and food this weekend. We'll have to be really careful..."
We had saved up every penny of our pocket money for the last two months and added them to the two ten pound notes we'd been given from Aunt Anna and Uncle Dave last time they visited, to give ourselves the means to get away this weekend. It was barely enough.
Soon the bus was pulling up outside the grubby-looking outskirts of Salisbury which contrasted sharply with its quaint, well-heeled centre, and we found ourselves standing outside a huge brick-and-concrete building with the well-known hotel chain name stamped across the top.
"We can do this," Juliet murmured encouragingly, squeezing my hand. "Are you ready?"
"Ready," I said, and we made our way to the hotel lobby. Worried that we wouldn't be allowed to check in without an adult present, even for a family room, we had put together the best plan we could. It wasn't watertight, but hopefully it would work.
It was late afternoon by now, which we thought would be a busy time (when the hotel staff would be rushed and impatient, less likely to check us carefully), and sure enough there was a steady trickle of guests filtering in. We joined the queue for the desk, trying our best to look nonchalant. But when we reached the front I swallowed nervously; the receptionist was a tall woman with iron-grey hair and a face as stern and shrewd as McGonagall's. She took us both in with a glance and her eyes flicked behind us, clearly looking for our parents.
"Hello," Juliet said quickly, drawing her gaze back to us. "We have a family room booked. The name is Belstone." And she confidently put a ten and a twenty pound note on the desk. We had figured this would be the best approach, saving any complicated explanations for later if necessary. After all, perhaps she would just give us the key...
But sadly, she didn't. There was a long pause, then the receptionist asked mildly, not touching the money. "Are you on your own, girls?"
Expecting this, we both laughed immediately, as though this was a surprising question.
"No, of course not," I said, smiling my most innocent smile. "Mum and Dad are unloading the car. Er - we've got a lot of luggage."
"They asked us to go ahead, 'cause they're in a hurry," Juliet added, and we both waited, on tenterhooks. The receptionist looked at us, lips pursed.
"Um, Dad wanted us to check in quickly so we can get going, we've got a table booked for dinner," I said, when no key seemed forthcoming.
"We usually prefer the mother or father to check in a family," said the receptionist. "You'd better go and get them, girls."
We were both trying very hard not to give ourselves away with a nervous glance at each other. We had planned for this scenario but had very much hoped it wasn't going to happen.
Juliet took a deep breath. "Oh, okay!" she said brightly. "Hang on, Jennifer. I'll go and get Dad. Won't be a mo'."
I leaned firmly on the counter, elbows out, keeping our place at the front, rather than allowing the next person – an impatient-looking businessman – to come up to the desk. I knew I couldn't hold back the queue for long, and even when Juliet came back in just a minute later, the businessman was pressing forward. Juliet stepped smartly in front of him, saying loudly, "Hey, excuse me, we were first." In true British fashion he stepped back again, though his lips were pressed tightly together in frustration.
"Sorry," Juliet said to the receptionist. "Dad sent me back in here. Mum's gone over the road to get some toiletries she forgot and he hasn't finished getting all our stuff out of the car. He doesn't want to leave it all over the floor while he comes in here, or put it all back in again just to check in. He said he's made the reservation and he's given us the cash to pay so what's the problem, please?"
The receptionist frowned and tutted.
"I'm just passing on the message," Juliet said, shrugging, as I nudged the thirty pounds across the counter.
"Come on, love!" shouted a voice near the back of the queue. "We're all waiting."
"Yeah, give 'em the bloomin' key and don't be a jobsworth, their Dad'll be here any minute," chimed in another voice.
"Want us all to be here until Christmas?" said another irritably, and the receptionist sighed and – to our immense relief – picked up the cash and slid us the key.
"Very well. Room Ninety-Two," she said, and I took the key with a casual, "Thanks very much," as the businessman pushed forward, and commanded her attention.
We scampered upstairs, hearts pounding, and let ourselves in to the large, bleak-looking room with a furtive look over our shoulder.
"That was a close one," I said as we dropped our overnight bags on the floor and collapsed onto the largest bed with sighs of relief.
Juliet rubbed her face vigorously. "This is all a lot harder than I was hoping."
Then we looked at each other and started giggling for no reason – nerves, perhaps, and relief at having got away with so much. We rolled around on the bed for a while, laughing until tears came to our eyes. This was difficult and daunting, but actually, it was fun. At last we calmed down, wiping our wet eyes. I gave a large hiccup, and grinned at my twin.
"I'm so glad you're back, Juliet," I said, and spontaneously we gave each other a sisterly hug, burying our faces in each other's long, dark, familiar hair.
"Well then," I said eventually, glancing outside. Dusk had fallen and in a couple of hours we would be meeting Zephyr. We had to get going.
Leaving was easier than getting in: we simply loitered in the corridor leading to the hotel lobby until a large group of guests pushed past us on their way out of the hotel, and attached ourselves to them, using the throng of bodies to shield us from the receptionist's sharp eyes.
We hopped on the bus back into Salisbury, and then onto the next – packed – shuttle bus to Stonehenge, gripping each others' hands tightly. My goodness...this was it. This was really it. As the night set in Salisbury suddenly seemed a very different place to earlier; strange people were drifting all around, and Juliet and I tried not to gape too openly at the other passengers during the ten-minute ride to the famous stone circle. Many were dressed very oddly, for Muggles at least, in flowing robes or long dresses in shades of rich earth-brown and leaf-green. Several had what appeared to be trailing plants entwined in their long tangled hair and one man was wearing actual antlers. They were knocked slightly askew on the bus ceiling when he got on.
But Salisbury and the bus were nothing – nothing – in comparison to Stonehenge itself.
When the bus pulled up in the car park and we spilled out with the other passengers, we stood for a while, stupefied. I had never seen so many people in my life in one place. Thousands – there must have been at least ten thousand – of people thronged so thickly around the ancient circle that only the tops of the great stones were visible. And the noise was unbelievable...everyone laughing, shouting, singing, whooping...
I stumbled and fell to one knee in the mud as a tall man in a thick cloak with a magnificent beard that fell to his patchwork leather shoes walked into me, and Juliet had to dart to one side to avoid being stampeded by a group of raucously singing people marching past...
"Come on!" Juliet yelled, yanking me upright. "Get to the stones!"
We fought our way through the crowds, here and there glimpsing quite astonishing sights. A woman with long, flowing hair dyed fiery red raised her arms to the sky as she chanted some strange song...a group of young men, stripped naked to the waist despite the freezing December air and light drizzle, dancing in a circle, their only clothing peculiar hairy leggings...someone spinning ropes blazing with fire that whirled and spat sparks, lighting up the inky-blue of night. The atmosphere was electric.
At last we reached the Stones, the mysterious, awe-inspiring monument erected by Neolithic people many thousands of years ago...Dad had told me once that they came from some remote mountains hundreds of miles away in Wales, the reason and method behind their transportation lost in the mists of time. This evening, the Winter Solstice, was one of the most sacred days for the Neolithic people.
Juliet rested her hand on the nearest rock and I saw her eyes widen slightly. "Can you hear it?" she said? "It's like it's humming – really far away humming."
I touched the rock too, and frowned, wondering what I was supposed to be hearing, and how on earth Juliet thought she could hear anything like that with all the noise around us.
"You know," said Juliet, running her hand down the stone in awe, "for the first time I – I reckon I understand what McGonagall meant when she said magic always leaves a trace. There's some deep, really old magic in these stones. I can feel it."
Well, I was losing interest quickly in this conversation, as the stone to me felt just like any other plain old rock. We needed to find Zephyr, but which the seventh stone was, I had absolutely no idea, now that we were here. They stood in a circle, so without knowing the first stone it was pretty much impossible to know which the seventh was. I peered at the people three stones away, who seemed to be gathered more purposefully than the rest of the crowds around, who were just drifting aimlessly. Someone had built a small fire near the base of the stone, whose flames were oddly bluish. Beside the fire, a gaggle of people were gathered around a tall man who was talking to them, his arms thrown open wide.
I nudged Juliet, breaking her out of her trance. She looked away from the stones and back at me. "Look!" I said, pointing at the tall man. "Do you think that's him? Zephyr?"
"Yeah, could be," Juliet said, after squinting at them for a while. "Let's go and see, shall we?"
We approached cautiously until we could see him more clearly; the leather jerkin he wore under his moss-coloured cloak, his tangled hair and beard which reached his waist. His nose was bulbous, and mottled red, and his eyes glittered in the dancing firelight. The people around the fireside were looking up at him with what seemed to be reverence. To my excitement I spotted the wand tucked into his belt: a long slim strip of wood with a carved handle patterned with leaves. It was this more than anything that gave me the courage to press forward, holding Juliet's hand tightly.
"Teach us, Zephyr! Show us the path!" Came cries from the fireside, and the man Zephyr raised his hands higher towards the sky and seemed about to speak, when his gaze fell upon us (mostly because upon reaching him I had timidly tugged his sleeve; up to that point he had seemed oblivious to our presence).
"Who're you kids?" he said, bluntly. His eyes seemed to focus on my right shoulder, rather than my face.
He really was tall; gazing up, I felt my courage drain out of me. He had no idea who we were. I seemed to have lost the ability to speak, and stood there, frozen, glued to the spot.
Finally I heard Juliet speak up next to me.
"Please, um...Zephyr?" she croaked. "You told us to meet you here tonight. That you could help my sister – um, MidnightMoon?"
A couple of seconds ticked by which felt like minutes, and then his expression cleared.
"Of course, of course, my dear friends!" he cried and the atmosphere relaxed, his followers curious now. "Brothers, sisters –" addressing the group by the fire "— these girls have come to us tonight for the Ceremony!"
"Just my sister," Juliet added quickly, nudging me forward. Zephyr clasped my hands in his own, whose fingernails, I could see even in the firelight, were long and ingrained with earth.
"Yes, indeed, your sister," he boomed. "She has come to me to learn to unlock the powers within!"
The group called out their approval and one of the members threw something onto the fire, which crackled and turned the flames blue again. An acrid smell drifted up my nose and I coughed.
A cloud drifted away and suddenly we were all bathed in moonlight as well as the flickering blue flames...the scene was incredibly eerie. Someone was playing a mournful tune nearby on what sounded like wooden pan pipes.
Zephyr tugged an earthenware bottle from his pocket and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls, then thrust the bottle at me. "First, drink this!"
Hesitantly I took it and sniffed the contents, blinking at the fumes which hit my eyes. It smelled like sour fruit. "What is it?" I asked. I didn't like this. Something felt vaguely wrong, but I couldn't say what it was.
Zephyr chuckled. "A magic brew I whipped up myself. Something to help release your powers. We are starting the Ceremony. You want to find the magic within yourself? Then drink, drink deep..."
I looked at Juliet for guidance and she nodded encouragingly at me. The magic within myself, I thought, and my heart beat painfully. Yes, I did want that: so much. I took a huge gulp and came up coughing and spluttering. The thin liquid tasted of berries – but it burnt like fire all the way down my throat. I felt my eyes watering.
To my discomfort I heard low chuckles all around and suddenly Zephyr pushed me none too gently to the ground, tilting the bottle to my lips again. I flinched away automatically, but he took my chin and trickled more into my mouth. I swallowed, gasping, and felt my head starting to spin. Was it working? Was the potion releasing my magic?
In a slight haze, I thought I noticed Zephyr take another quick swig himself before tucking the bottle back into his belt.
"First – we comb the hair! A woman's power is in her locks!" said Zephyr's voice from above, and one of the group, a young woman with hair in a long plait, came forward with a white comb that looked as though it was made of bone. She smiled down at me. The followers swayed and chanted as the young woman drew the comb repeatedly through my hair – I tried not to wince when it hit a knot.
My head was spinning even more and I felt as though I was floating. Meanwhile Zephyr was stamping in a circle around me, singing a weird song which seemed to have no real words but sounded like a cross between a howling wolf and a dog which was being kicked. Every now and then he took a pinch of some little dried leaves from a leather pouch and sprinkled them into the fire. And every now and then he took out his bottle, and forced me to take another swig. Everything around me was starting to look faintly blurred and anxiously I searched in the crowd for Juliet; blinking, I saw a wild-looking boy in his late teens, with dark curling hair, tugging at her elbow. He was tucking another earthenware bottle into her hand: the others around the fire all seemed to be drinking from the same little bottles.
"Have some too!" the curly-haired lad yelled. "Then you can help!"
"How will it help?" Juliet shouted back, clutching the bottle as he danced away.
"You'll see!" He laughed at her. "Just try it!"
I saw Juliet bite her lip then take a gulp of the magic brew. Immediately she choked and gasped just as I had... The flickering light thrown on the group by the fire was suddenly making everything look strange to me, and I shut my eyes. I was starting to feel sick and oddly disconnected, released from my physical body. But it made sense that I should find my hidden powers more easily in this detached state. Didn't it? I tried to follow that thought again, to check if it was logical – but couldn't hold onto it somehow, it floated away like a soap bubble.
When I half-opened my eyes again I flinched and tried to shuffle backwards. Zephyr was crouched right in front of me and he caught hold of my shoulder, grinning at me as he smeared a muddy paste onto my face and muttering weird words. His eyes looked unfocused and he smelled awful, like something left outside to rot. My head hurt even more and I felt scared; the feeling I'd had earlier, that something was wrong, intensified. I wanted to get away; but suddenly Zephyr gave a triumphant whoop and yanked me to my feet.
To my horror he poured the rest of his earthenware bottle over my head – I felt the cold, sticky liquid soak through my hair and trickle down my face, my neck, and I moaned and tried to pull away. But Zephyr's grip on my wrist was like iron. He pulled the wand from his belt and pointing it at the sky as he capered wildly, leading me by the hand to stumble after him. "Dance, dance!" he burbled. "Seek the power within on this most sacred of nights!"
The followers were still clapping and chanting, as Zephyr spun me around. This was so wrong; we needed to leave, but I was dancing, stumbling, spinning against my will...I glimpsed Juliet's face in a blur, looking as suddenly panicked and horrified as I felt.
"Stop!" she yelled, pushing forward, and I willed for her to rescue me. "Stop!"
Juliet reached me, fingertips outstretched, just as Zephyr whirled me around again, with another warbling cry of "Dance!" – and let go. I sailed past his stupid grinning face as I twirled once with the momentum: then fell almost gracefully to the ground, feeling like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and my hand tumbled into the edge of the blue fire.
A terrible, searing pain: then I heard myself scream like a wounded hare, jerking my hand from the flames.