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Chapter 13- Same Old Witchcraft
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"I…I can't believe we're really doing this!" Peter whispered, following Sirius into the darkened library. He shuffled closer while gazing apprehensively at the towering stacks of books that loomed on every side of the vast chamber.
"Do you want to turn back?" asked Sirius.
Peter's front teeth gnawed worriedly on his lower lip. "No, b…but what if we get caught? Tomorrow's the full moon!"
Sirius lifted the glowing tip of his wand and threw a warning look over his shoulder. "If we get caught, we say we came here on a dare and Prongs keeps Moony company while we're in detention- but we won't get caught if you keep quiet!"
"Right, sorry."
The friends had almost reached the cordoned off Restricted Section when Peter said, "That sleep spell you cast on James and Remus…where'd you learn that?"
From my girlfriend, Sirius thought with an inner grin. He said, "None of your business. They wouldn't approve of our little venture, so I made sure they never have to know about it. End of story."
They crawled beneath the cord separating the section from the rest of the library. Peter said, "How do we find the book we need?"
Sirius eased the strap of his rucksack off his shoulder and lowered it to the floor. With a triumphant grin, he lifted out a Y-shaped stick. "We use a divining rod." He held the forked stick with the long end pointing forward and waited.
"Isn't it supposed to move?" Peter whispered loudly.
Yes, it was, in an up-and-down motion to indicate the location of the desired object. Sirius said, "I didn't order it from a Diagon Alley shop, I made it myself from a willow twig. Maybe it needs more time to warm up." He closed his eyes and concentrated. It didn't move. Resisting the urge to snap the rod in half, he thrust it out. "You're the one that needs a book. You try it."
The tip dipped down the moment podgy hands closed around the V ends of the divining rod. An astonished smile lit up Peter's face. "It works!"
"I should hex you for doubting," said Sirius. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Get on with it!"
They moved slowly forward. Sirius' wand illumined shelves of books about Dark Magic while Peter held out the divining rod, waiting for a vibration to lead him to the right tome.
"Some of the books don't have titles," Peter said, "and some have stains that look like blood!"
"They aren't children's stories." Sirius nodded at a shelf of books written in different Wizarding languages. "I hope the text we need isn't written in elfish."
"I hope the book isn't too Dark," said Peter. His pupils were huge in the low light. "I want Jane to like me. I don't want to do anything bad"
Sirius said tongue-in-cheek, "So blood sacrifice is out?"
Peter brushed against a book that growled. He squeaked in alarm. "B…blood? Isn't blood magic Dark?"
"Not necessarily." Sirius saw the rod tilt upwards and pointed to the right. "Go down that aisle." He followed Peter, explaining, "According to my father, most magic is neutral- it can be used for good or ill, but certain texts are categorised as Dark to prevent students from getting up to no good."
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Peter quoted the Marauder's motto with a nervous laugh. He gasped when the rod shook violently in his hands. The end veered sharply to the left, and then jerked to the right before pointing straight down.
"It seems we have two choices." Sirius pulled out the tome the diving rod had tapped on the left side of the narrow aisle. It looked and smelled mouldy. He said, "Moste Potente Potions, wouldn't our pal Snivellus love to get his greasy hands on this."
"I'm no good at Potions," said Peter.
Sirius leafed through the book, grimacing over the drawings and the list of side effects that accompanied the potions. "Even if we could get the ingredients, we don't want her to develop facial tics or fanatical life-long devotion to you."
"Spasms I wouldn't mind, but what if I want to break up with her? I don't want Jane treating me like she treats you."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Thank you for acknowledging my suffering." He re-shelved the book and reached for the other tome the rod had indicated. "Ye Olde and Best Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes…sounds promising, but the print's so bloody small, I can barely read the words."
Peter waved his wand over the book. "It's my job to magnify the paper for Gran every holiday."
Sirius grinned. "Bless the old dear."
Peter shook his head. "She's mean and nicks my sweets from Father Christmas."
"I take it back. Let's send her cockroach clusters instead."
While Peter listed every disgusting sweet he could think of to send his Gran, Sirius perused the book of spells and found one that would do the job. He waved a hand to interrupt a description of cinnamon flavoured fire ants. "Here's what you want. Not a dodgy love spell- a Panglossian enchantment." He saw the blank look on Peter's face and said, "It's the equivalent of rose-coloured glasses. According to the book, this spell will entrance Jane into viewing everything you do in the most attractive, optimistic light."
"No side effects?"
Sirius double-checked. "No, and it's easily rescinded."
"Why isn't it in a regular book of spells, then?"
"It's a mystery." Sirius reached into his rucksack for a piece of parchment and a quill. "While I write down the instructions, you check the map."
Peter unfolded the enchanted map that showed the location of everyone at Hogwarts. "Dumbledore is still awake. The map shows his footsteps pacing back and forth. I wonder what keeps him up at night?"
"Aside from trifling cares like You-Know-Who? Find McGonagall and you'll see."
"Her footsteps are headed toward…the Headmaster's quarters! Why is she going there?"
Sirius glanced up. No, Peter wasn't being facetious. He said, "Perhaps they drink cocoa and have a chat."
Peter nodded. "My Gran sometimes chats with me in the middle of the night, when she's sleepwalking. Gives me a fright, it does, waking up to see her beside my bed."
"What do you chat about?" Sirius asked absently, copying down the last of the instructions. The reason the spell had been classified Dark was now apparent. It required a certain kind of blood. He waited for Peter to begin rambling on about his Gran and stealthily reached for the rucksack.
"I don't mind her visits, really, since she's much nicer asleep, but…what are you going to do with that knife?"
His quarry tried to scramble away, but Sirius lunged to grab his friend's arm and cut it. After bloodying the knife, he said, "Sorry mate, but the spell requires unwilling blood." He used a healing spell and said, "You weren't really scared, were you?"
Peter sniffed and shook his head. "No! I was startled, is all. I wasn't expecting you to act like a knife-wielding maniac."
Sirius put the knife and book away, chuckling. "This maniac is ready to go cast a spell if you are." He bent to pick up the rucksack.
"You're not really a m…maniac, you're the best mate a bloke could have," said Peter.
"I'm not doing this entirely out of the goodness of my heart," Sirius reminded.
"I know, but James wouldn't do this for me. Remus neither."
"They have more sense…and we should emulate their sterling qualities."
"I can keep a secret," said Peter. "Isn't that a sterling quality?"
Sirius thought of Rosmerta and smiled. "It's first-rate."
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Rosmerta still bought romance novels, but she didn't read them before bed anymore. Instead, she curled up with a cup of tea and a growing stack of letters. The friendly, casual messages written in masculine handwriting were a disguise for the 'real' letters hidden on the 'blank' side of each sheet of parchment.
Love letters- the first she had ever received. Her ex-boyfriend had owled the occasional note to meet him places, and after they'd parted, he'd sent a few letters alternately cursing her or stating his intent to win her back, but no love was involved. After Jonathan, another man had sent her correspondence, but it was anything but romantic. Sirius was the only man whose letters made her smile.
It was too early to say she loved Sirius, but Rosmerta was in love with his way with words. He made her feel young and vibrant. Reading his letters brightened even the darkest, most stressful day.
The postscript on Sirius' first letter had read,
Turn the parchment over and say billet doux.
She had turned the letter over and said, "Billet Doux? Love Letter? Why do I…"
Handwriting had materialised onto the page. Sirius had devised a way for them to keep their correspondence truly private. A wave of her wand and Ne parlez pas, don't speak, hid the message, while billet doux revealed the words.
Secrecy gave Rosmerta the confidence to open up and share things she'd never told anyone else. That she loved her father but hated the way he always seemed to expect her to leave him, just like her mother. That she got frustrated with village gossip and everyone knowing everyone else's business. That she danced in the moonlight- and imagined Sirius was watching.
Her latest confession had triggered a flurry of questions. She'd answered them, thinking Sirius would answer flirtatiously, maybe joke that he'd sneak out and watch. He'd surprised Rosmerta by warning her of the dangers of the forest and asking her not to go.
On the morning of October's full moon, she sent a letter to Hogwarts that spoke of the Fire Festival that would take place that weekend. The celebration of summer's end was one of the highlights of the village year. There would be dancing around bonfires for three nights, and stallholders from across Scotland would join village tradespersons in selling wares and refreshments. The inns were booked to capacity, and all the shops were doing a brisk trade.
Concealed on the 'blank' side of the parchment was her personal message. It read,
Dear Sirius,
It's so hard for me to write this. When I read your letter, my first reaction was 'if he says it's not safe in the forest, then I'm staying home.' I went straight to Fiona.
She assured me centaurs are peaceful. They concern themselves with watching the sky to read the signs of the stars and planets, not women who dance in the moonlight. The dangers of the forest lie in the depths, not in a faery ring near Hogsmeade.
I hate the thought that you'll worry, but I won't stay home tonight. In the same way you and your friends feel the need to escape the confines of school every now and then, my friends and I need to break away too.
I promise to keep my wand at hand and not wander into the forest. I have a powerful incentive to stay safe- I can't wait to see you again.
She didn't sign her name, but she added something she never had before.
Yours,
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Inside the circle that night, Rosmerta let her cloak fall, but kept her wand at hand, just the way she'd promised. Fiona and the other women smiled and asked her not to jinx them by accident, but no one made fun of her caution.
At first, her movements were stiff, as though she were expecting an attack. The thought of centaurs threatening them with bows and arrows was so ridiculous, Rosmerta laughed softly and relaxed. She looked up into the sky and smiled. The 'man' in the moon had a naughty grin, just like Sirius.
Around her, the others whirled enthusiastically, but she felt compelled to sway to a slower beat. Rosmerta's body felt heavy, her motions languid and sensual. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
"Woof!"
Rosmerta opened her eyes to see a huge black dog emerge from the underbrush. She stepped out of the faery ring.
"Be careful!" Fiona said sharply.
"This is Grimmy, my friend," she called back, crouching down to extend a hand to the dog. He backed away. She crooned, "It's me, Rosmerta, don't be afraid." He walked slowly forward. She petted him and said, "Didn't you recognise me? I don't have any food, but if you follow me home…"
Rosmerta broke off when a distant howl echoed in the forest.
"What the hell was that?" Fiona said.
Grimmy began to bark.
"I think we should go," one of the women said nervously.
The howl echoed again, louder, closer.
Maeve Brodie ordered, "Get back into the ring at once!" When Rosmerta approached, Maeve said, "I didn't mean to treat you like Robbie, but I'm afraid this is going to turn out worse than one of my son's stunts."
The women formed a circle within the ring, holding out their wands. Rosmerta tried to coax the dog over to join them, but he remained across the clearing, ears pricked.
Suddenly he crashed back into the forest. "No, come back!" Rosmerta cried.
Fiona grabbed her arm when she tried to leave the ring. "Are you barmy? This faery ring is the only safe place in the forest right now. I don't know what's out there, but I'm not dying to find out and neither are you!"
"My husband never wanted me to come…I'm going to catch hell for this, I know it!" said a woman Rosmerta knew from Witch Guides as 'Emma's mother'.
"Then don't tell him," said Fiona.
The women snickered a bit and then fell silent, straining to hear the sounds of the forest. Aside from an occasional rustling in the underbrush, the night was still. A quarter hour passed, then a half hour. The group started to relax.
A dog bounded out of the forest. Several women screamed.
Rosmerta ran to meet him. "Grimmy, you fool, you could've been hurt!" She knelt down to hug his neck.
"His tail's wagging, so he must've chased away whatever was making those howls," said Fiona, walking over to give the dog a pat. "Good boy!"
"Probably just another dog," Maeve said hopefully. She came over and ruffled Grimmy's fur. The other women gathered around, petting and praising the dog who seemed to enjoy the attention.
Rosmerta pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Walk us home, Grimmy?"
He stood right away, the clever dog. The women gathered their cloaks and hurried back to the village, giggling in reaction to the scare they'd had. When they stepped out of the forest and onto the land behind the Brodies' home, Fiona said in a tone of deep regret, "As much fun as it's been, I think we need to find another activity for our night out. We can't just think of ourselves, we all have families to consider."
"I don't feel safe in the forest anymore," said Emma's mum.
"I don't either," said another witch.
"We'll think of something," said Maeve. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," they all chorused, going their separate ways.
Rosmerta looked down and smiled. "Come on Grimmy, you deserve a steak."
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He wished he could stay longer, being petted and catered to, but after he'd eaten his steak, the Animagus padded over to the door, sighing as he waited for her to open it.
"Thank you for being our hero tonight," Rosmerta said. "We'd still be there, scared to move out of the circle of protection, if not for you." She stood in the doorway watching him leave, waving when he looked back. He woofed and began to run.
Inside the Shrieking Shack, he climbed the stairs to reach the room where his friends waited. In a far corner, the werewolf lifted his head. Padfoot walked over to drop down between the stag and rat, keeping his gaze low and non-confrontational. The wolf hadn't appreciated having his run through the forest cut short.
Wormtail squeaked enquiringly. Padfoot ignored him, closing his eyes and trying to sleep.
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Sirius awoke cursing. He pushed wet hair out of his face and glared at the boy holding an empty pitcher. "You could've just said 'wake up!'"
"This was more fun." James tossed the pitcher aside, demanding, "Why in Merlin's name didn't you tell us there were women in the forest?"
"I told you to wait until I came back…"
"No, last month…that's why you said we couldn't go out, isn't it?"
Sirius mouth opened and closed. Yeah, it was.
"What were they doing in the forest?" asked Peter. "Was it a coven? Were they casting Dark spells?" He sounded hopeful.
"No, just a group of women, enjoying the moonlight," Sirius answered.
James looked at him with a hint of a smile on his face. "How were they enjoying the moonlight, you dog?"
"Oh, the usual, dancing in a faery ring," Sirius said off-handed.
"What?" said James, "There were women…dancing…and you didn't tell us?"
Peter asked eagerly, "Were they naked?"
"Of course not, worm-brain, but they were wearing dresses made of scarves. I hardly think Prong's doe-eyed girlfriend would appreciate him drooling over them."
"I wouldn't drool," James said indignantly.
"I'd drool," said Peter. "Were they wearing..." He cupped his hands at his chest meaningfully.
"Yes, you perv," Sirius said, thinking, All except Rosmerta. He smiled at the memory.
"I want to see them next month!" Peter whined.
James frowned. "We should give those women their privacy."
"They won't be coming back," Sirius said. "I walked them to the village and heard them say they don't feel safe in the forest now."
"I'm sorry for that."
The three boys turned to see Remus sitting up, looking drained and ill. James rummaged in a sack for potions and brought them over, saying, "You're not the only dangerous creature in the forest."
"You did them a favour, really," Sirius said with a grin.
Remus drank the potions and rose to his feet, smiling a little. "How is that?"
"If you were a woman, would you want a dirty-minded rat drooling over you?"
Even Peter laughed.
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A/N: "All is for the best in the best of all possible worlds", said Dr. Pangloss, the tutor who is optimistic regardless of circumstances in Voltaire's Candide. When I needed an entrancing enchantment, I found another word for rose-coloured glasses that reminded me of required reading…in a good way, lol. There's lots to look forward to next chap- a Fire Festival, Hallowe'en Feast, and Wormtail gets a girlfriend. :D The people whose reviews I looked forward to last week were…...…...♥ 40/16 ♥ alix33 ♥ Ange de l'eau♥ Carnivalgirl ♥ cupcakeswirl ♥ dragonriderhp ♥ Elspeth Bates ♥ Emmas Padawon ♥ FNP ♥ Freja Lercke-Falkenborg ♥ GraceRichie♥ ishandtwofourths ♥ ladyofthebookworms ♥ MagicalMischiefMakersInc ♥ MollyCoddles ♥ Moonlight ♥ Shadow-ofthe-Night35 ♥ Sivaroobini Lupin-Black ♥ Slipknot-3113 ♥ sunny9847 ♥ Watch out for Yellow Moon ♥ and ♥ Writer-In-Disguise ♥