Le Cirque du Mystique
I pocketed the torn stub but before I could step to the side, the overly cheery woman sneezed into the crook of her arm. It was a small squeaky sound, reminiscent of a mouse, but the astonishing force of it made her head jerk forward.
"Bless you," I said.
She looked left and right at the sound of my voice like she had forgotten where she was. Her painted lips automatically pulled achingly taunt when her glazed eyes focused on mine. I found her rather odd and hard to look at. I was about to swallow my suspicion and go about my merry way when I noticed the pointy edge of an ear peeking from between her curtain of hair. She caught the direction of my gaze and I heard the slightest inhale of shock. Sooner than I could blink, she ran a hand through her mane, hiding the offending appendage from view. I averted my eyes and acted as though I thought nothing of it even though the ear was unmistakably elven. A voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's was telling me to keep my mouth shut, and I agreed with it.
"Step right in and enjoy the show," the usher repeated again when I hadn't moved, gesturing to the wall. She hadn't stopped staring at me and that smile of hers was becoming unbearable. My eyes raked over her skin for signs of glamour but the crowd behind me was getting restless. I had no choice but to give up and keep my expression neutral as I shuffled out of her line of sight.
Hermione caught the look in my eyes but didn't comment on it when it was her turn to hand over her ticket. I heard the same line again –"Step right in and enjoy the show,"– but it sounded distant, which may have had everything to do with the fact that I was too busy trying to look busy. Staring at my watch seemed like a good enough means to that end. It was a bit past half one by the looks of it. We had more than enough time to get the gist of this circus rubbish and be in the water by two. In a perfect world that might've been a likely scenario. A genius one, even.
I'd never admit it out loud but my hands were shaking and I didn't know if it was from nervousness or excitement. They felt clammy and uncomfortable.
It occurred to me that I had gotten myself into something again and I wasn't quite sure what that something was yet. With the atmosphere getting stranger by the minute, I felt incredibly stupid for even considering to follow some spruced up wanker to this place. However, I was well aware that running away like pansies would have blown the roof off our covers. My shirt collar was sticking to the back of my neck and the satin tie suddenly felt like it was strangling me. I looked around as I reached up and pulled at the knot.
All the gaudy make-ups and prismatic colours where so bright they hurt to look at, worse than sun glare off the snow. They made me nervous. I swallowed thickly, trying to get some moisture down my papery throat.
Just as I was beginning to wonder what was taking Hermione so long, sure fingers threaded themselves through mine. I tightened my hold on her digits.
The walk through the wall felt like platform 9 ¾ all over again, only there was a more solid feel to the barrier. I half-expected there to be powdered concrete on my coat but I had nothing to brush off when I looked.
I had never been to a circus before. I've only caught glimpses of them whenever I happened to cross the couch whilst Dudley watched the telly. I expected a tent and coliseum styled seating around a dirt-floored arena. An odd elephant or tiger here and there would've been a welcomed sight. Some concession stands didn't seem like a reach in the wrong direction either. Maybe even some clowns and rigged money sinks, but I wasn't quite sure on the former. I imagined that there had to be at least one man with a curly moustache and a walking stick and a couple of misfits at his beck and call. What I actually got was an entirely different story from an entirely different series altogether.
There were concession stands all right but that's about as correct as my assumptions were. And of course by concession stands I mean people in waistcoats standing around holding trays laden with appetizers. The space was colossal; spanning what looked like several football pitches and then some. I realized my gob was opened wide enough to catch flies at the same time I noticed that a man was incessantly tugging at my jacket and muttering about a coat room. I politely declined and slipped out of his reach.
A torrent of people rushed forth from the wall behind me, some throwing withering looks in my direction for just standing about. I did my best apologetic shrug in response. Right, keep my gob latched and stop holding up lines. Check and check.
I took too long to deduce that Hermione had gotten away somewhere. Tried as I might, I couldn't make her out in the crowd, which prompted me to do the only thing I could: wander aimlessly forward.
A steady stream of witches and wizards were flooding in from different apparition chambers and fireplaces that lined the walls, dressed flamboyantly and rushing to congregate with the ever-growing horde. The floor was cobbled stone and uneven in some places but no one appeared to have trouble with their steps. Ornate runes were carved into the red satin walls and were emitting faint gold glows. I didn't know what they were for of course but I had a feeling that I didn't want to find out.
There was no seating as far as I could tell. In fact, the only items that loosely resembled furniture were what had to be rectangular boxes suspended from the ceiling and covered by white drapery. Some were bigger than others and I was staring at a rather large one that seemed to be shivering and making curious clanking sounds.
When I finally caught sight of my partner in crime, I breathed a sigh of relief and made my way over. It took a few steps to realize that she was chatting up Murray but that only spurred my pace. I noticed that both of them lost their coats at some point. Hermione's dress was a flowing purple ensemble that looked like it was swallowing her. Her ruby red lips were parted as she laughed at some joke but I could see the subtleness of her eyes darting around the room looking for me. When we locked gazes, she didn't falter in the conversation but I saw those lips edge slightly upward.
"Oh there he is. I swear he can get lost in a paper bag," a brimming wine glass was pressed into my hand and she lightly grabbed my free arm, pulling me into their small talk. "Murray here was just telling me about Skeeter's new book, the Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. Thought you might want to share your thoughts and such."
My eyebrows climbed up my forehead. I'd heard of that hogwash and whatever I said about it wasn't going to be nice. She observed me pointedly over her wine glass as she took a sip. I followed suit, cringing a bit when a sour taste touched the back of my throat.
"Do tell," I said instead of the choice words that were dancing at the tip of my tongue. I took one last sip and decided it would be my last. Getting smashed would be an even worse idea than coming here in the first place.
"It's brilliant really. The daft bird wrote it less than four weeks after his death and my, it is a sight to behold. Don't you two have a copy?"
Hermione was about to answer but he waved her off.
"Figured you didn't. Not much of these lying about the office, are there? Hmm, guess not." He aimed at his empty glass and transfigured a thick book on his palm. It was soon jammed in my free one, after which Murray took another drink off a server's tray and gulped down a mouthful. "Right, so… where was I?"
"I believe you were telling us your opinions." I said, feigning disinterest. I raised the book, pointedly turned to the back cover, and skimmed dismissively. "Can't waste my time on something so dense and tedious."
"Looks like nine hundred pages to boot," Hermione added. I smiled at her. She caught on quick.
"Oh, no, no, no! It's excellent. And a second person account. By –"
"Bathilda Bagshot." She muttered. Up to that moment I was trying to contain my bottled-up rage at this waste of ink and parchment but an entirely different feeling replaced it at the mention of Bathilda. Cogs were turning in my head as more and more pieces came into play.
"You wouldn't happen to know more about her, would you?" I asked.
"Who, Bagshot? She's the great Aunt of Gerllert Grindelwald far as I heard –"
"She's the what?" I started. Hermione quickly shushed me. We shared a quick but meaningful look. How could we have not known? My mind was absolutely reeling and I could tell Hermione had lots to say too.
It didn't seem like Murray even noticed my interruption being that he was so drunk and full of himself.
"– and the writer of A History of Magic. You should now that by now." He said, waving absentmindedly at the book. Hermione nodded as if to say yes, we damn well should've known that by now. "I'm sure there's more in there."
"We get to keep it then?" I asked.
"Sure, sure, I've got another copy. Shocked you didn't have it before though. I swear everyone and their sister's been raving…"
Hermione tucked the book into her bag and I was almost sorry to see it go. It was probably the one book I wouldn't mind reading over and over again.
"So enough about that," Murray grimaced a bit whilst he swallowed yet another mouthful of wine and moved his arm in a wide sweep around the room "What do you made of it?"
"Grand. A bit too much for a circus, I think," She said.
Murray winked.
"Exactly." He rested his unfinished drink down on a passing tray. I felt a bubble of silence fall over us at the wave of his wand. "The fun's about to start so keep your eyes open and get as much information as you can. Remember this is only a recon so keep yourselves in check. Got it?"
"Got it," Hermione said before I could voice my confusion.
"Good. Get to it then. And no sneaking off like earlier or I'll write you both up."
Hermione nodded at that, mustering up a blush under all that rouge. She was good at keeping up appearances, much better than I was.
She hooked our arms together and pulled me away from drunk Murray who should in all honesty be writing himself up before he worried about us.
"Something's not right here," I whispered as we moved deeper and deeper into the crowd. Everyone around us seemed to be sparkling in the rune light, which when added to the already distracting array of noise and hues, made it all the more confusing to figure out which direction we were going in the sea of glam and glitz. I probably had all the colours of the rainbow clinging to my clothes by that point, and if I coughed, I'd probably exhale glitter.
"Watch where you're going!" A man said indignantly, as he dusted off his vibrant turquoise lapel after I swept pass him. It was hard to not bump into anyone and by hard I meant nearly impossible. It didn't help that no one here seemed to be in much of a hurry to move out of our way. It was like time wasn't a luxury to them, like they had all of it in the world. I heard Harry give the man our apologies.
"The runes," I started, not slowing down. I was heading towards what I hoped was the wall we walked into when we just got there. There were similar walls all around but there was no telling what, or where, was on the other side of them. "They're for concealing and containment."
"That doesn't sound too good," Harry said over the noise of the music and the chatting people. "What are they trying to contain?"
"Let's not stick around to find out."
But before I got any further, the overhead lights cut out abruptly, throwing us all into near darkness. The crowd around us starting clapping in their excitement for what was to come, making it so that I couldn't hear anything over their racket. I felt Harry's back press against mine just as lights clicked on inside the suspended white rectangles that hung some ways off the floor. There were dozens of them spotting the entire arena, like ghostly chandeliers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," a voice boomed over the cheering of the spectators. It was so loud that I flinched downwards, covering my ears, which surely had to be bleeding. My fleshy hands weren't enough to block out the sound which seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Prepare yourselves to witness the greatest exhibition the world has ever seen."
The sheets dropped in an explosion of light and colour. Fireworks zipped up from the displays to the transforming ceiling, in swirls and spirals. As the sparks reached the top they didn't fade, instead zooming right towards the enchanted gathering below. I reeled back as one dashed right in front my face. My body jerked in recognition. "Nymphs."
"Bienvenue au Cirque du Mystique."
The little being twirled on the tip of my nose and I nearly went cross-eyed following its pirouettes. I was distinctly reminded of the Cornish pixies devilishly zipping around Lockhart's classroom in second year.
When I blinked, the nymph glided away, flitting from head to head. I was mesmerized watching the flock of them dancing like sugarplums, so caught in the spectacle that when the crowd let out a collective scream I collapsed in shock. Harry was on the ground with me, as were several others. He pointed to the ceiling and I sunk down even further.
I was faced with a roaring wall of fire, which was rushing down towards us with intensity so hot that my skin felt like it was melting. My hands covered my face and I was sweating through my dress, the heat being that much more unbearable with so many people packed so close together.
Slowly we all realized that a force field was making the flames pool and flow like water. Golden runes appeared on the transparent ceiling, flaring radiance. The applause came like a rupture, and got even more deafening when the fire dissipated and revealed the belly of a large, Peruvian Vipertooth dragon.
"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, though I might as well have whispered it to myself. My heart was pounding in my ear drums, the sound of blood was becoming my everything. It would have been easy to let myself get swept up in the sound of my own fear but I got to my feet, wand drawn in defiance. I wasn't sure where to point it as what I was seeing became more and more alarming.
It was a menagerie of magical creatures, squirming and keening behind the glowing bars of their cages. That's what was under the sheets, bloody cages. Bandicoots screeching their trumpet sounds, erklings known for eating children cackling and shooting darts through the gaps in their bars, which disappeared after an inch or so. Manticores crooning, streelers with their giant snail shells dangling upside down in their enclosures, colours flashing in warning. Diricawls flickering visible every other second, trying to disappear and reappear somewhere safer but failing under the charms of all the runes.
Harry seemed just as confounded as I was. I watched him watch a hoard of bowtruckles nearest to us claw their way on top of one another like ants. There was so much to take in that I could feel it building into sensory overload.
The crowd was shifting around now, partaking in the sights. I saw a couple coo approvingly at a centaur, who lashed out at them but twitched back just as fast, as if stung. Goblins shouted in Gobledegook and ghouls moaned in misery nearby. Thestrals looked on, neighing softly. I could make out water demons shape-shifting like mad, moving so fast my eyes couldn't keep up.
The more I looked the more I didn't want to see but there was something about a circus that made you not want to blink in case you missed anything. Harry grabbed my hand, pulling me in close.
"This is insane," I heard him say. I saw a flesh eating slugs swimming in a tank over his shoulder.
The Vipertooth above us rained down another fire storm, sending the crowd screaming in delight.
I couldn't fathom what I was seeing. There were things that were living, things thought dead, things that were extinct for as long as human history could recount. Things I'd only ever read about, things I didn't even know the names of. Things that were scared, things that were hungry, things that looked like they could kill us all with a single blow. The room was spinning and I wasn't sure if it was another fancy trick to amuse the masses.
Large inky black eyes caught mine, glaring daggers. I felt pulled in, sucked in, unable to see anything else but the void in them. Her lips were curled, snaring to expose her toothy maw. The cage was much too small for her wings which were tattered and bent at unnatural angles, much like the rest of her. Her arms covered her breasts, leaving the rest of her dirty body exposed to the people staring at her like she was some type of animal. The image alone was disturbing enough, but I knew her. I bloody knew her.
It was the cashier from the little café I stopped at in Godric's, only this time her air of tempered superiority was dampened by her matted tresses.
My mouth fell open in shock at the look of her, at the realization that these creatures were more than just illegal exhibits, that they were slaves.
Shock gave way to anger, which gave way to spite.
I pointed my wand at her cage before I even knew what I was doing.
"Wait!" Harry exclaimed. But it was too late. The rune of release I burned into the bars with a Flagrate spell was still steaming when the metal clattered to the floor. A domino effect cascaded around the room, and the fairy broke lose, bringing all hell with her.
"Get down! Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled. His spell shot over my head only a second after I was shoved to the ground. It was met with the alarming yellow stream of sparks from one of the many circus attendants who were jolly just moments ago but now wanted nothing more than to see us dead.
The wizards and witches in the room caught sight of the ruckus and started screaming, though this time they weren't having fun.
A shield charm later and I was face to face with a violent red hex inches from my forehead. I wasn't even aware of casing the shield, since I was running on pure adrenaline and instinct. I scurried back, throwing an Immobulus at my assailant and watching him fall stiff to the floor. My ridiculous high heels got lost in the scramble as I rushed to my feet, firing a disarming charm at another aggressor.
The fear on people's faces was clear as day as they ran from the very creatures they were mocking just a few moment ago. I couldn't enjoy my sense of righteousness at the irony of it but their sounds of terror mixed nearly musically with the caws and growls, and clicks and buzzes from the beasts set free.
They were all clogging up the floo networks and spilling out of the bewitched walls. They were tripping and falling, slipping and sprawling. In the mess of it all, I saw an acromantula crawling over a fainted woman, its fangs glistening in toxic venom.
"Arania Exumai!" I had just enough time to yell and dive left to avoid a slew of Diffindo spells raining down on me. The attacks seemed to be coming from all directions. The room was bursting with magic, from creatures and wizards alike.
"Come on!" Someone grabbed my hand. I almost blew Harry's fingers to bits in my defensive state but before long we were both shouldering through the crowd moving towards the wall that brought us there. The circus attendants were still firing curses after us and I blocked them as best as I could, letting Harry lead the way. The pandemonium was almost a weapon in and of itself and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the room was suddenly flooded with aurors swathed in black.
"Shit!" I swore. In a split second decision I pointed my wand at Harry. His eyes widened in surprise but at a time like that, I couldn't afford to second guess myself. "Diminuendo!"
The look of shock on his face got smaller and smaller as he shrunk from the feet up, quickly becoming no bigger than a coin. I caught him in the palm of my hand and tucked him away in my bottomless beaded bag.
With the aurors bearing down on the room it was only a matter of time before we got rounded up like everyone else. The crowd got even more frantic, fright spreading like a fever. The people were like waves crashing up and over each other. I carefully hugged the bag to my chest until I finally felt the semi-solidness of the wall wash over me. It wasn't long before I was running with the Scottish winter air burning in my lungs, the taste of the North Sea on my tongue.
The mayhem sounded further and further away each barefoot step I took. My heels were long abandoned, and the grimy sidewalk rubble was needling into the soles of my feet, but I didn't stop until I was just at the edge of the water with my hands on my knees, breathing so hard that my icy puffs of breath tickled the ground. It was the same ground I found myself falling back on when my stomach started churning in ways that promised that whatever was in it was coming right back up.
I sat still until the feeling passed and with fumbling fingers I reached for the bag and unlatched it. With a peek, I saw Harry sitting on the Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, waving up at me from the inside of the title's 'o'. I reached in and gently lifted him out before placing him on the floor in front of me. He landed on his feet but then lost his balance and fell right on his tiny bum. The unexpected humor in it wasn't beyond me but I couldn't find the time to appreciate it. A Finite Incantatem later and he was back to his normal size again, standing and grinning like mad.
"That was bloody brilliant," he said, while I rummaged about in the bag. "Can we top it?"
I grinned back and opened my hands, revealing palmfuls of gillyweed.
"We can damn well try."
It tasted fishy, not unlike fresh seaweed. I felt the effects coming on even before I finished chewing.
We stripped ourselves of extra articles of clothing, hurrying with the urgency of people growing gills.
Harry and I looked at each other and seemed to have the same idea at the same time. I took his webbing hand and stood on my webbing toes. Together, we jumped right into the sea.