A/N: Hi, everyone! How are you all doing? Thank you so much for the sweet reviews and messages, and also to all the new followers. You are amazing! Just so you know, I'm also posting a story based on the game The Arcana and other based on The Sims. If you have any comments, critiques or concerns, don't hesitate to send me a message. I wish you all a delightful day!
Chapter Twenty-One - Ironwood and Aquamarine
I can cast a spell of secrets you can't tell
Mix a special brew and put fire inside of you
Anytime you feel danger or fear
Then instantly I will appear*
March 27th, 1983
Olivia said there isn't much to do except write. Duncan, on the other side, said diaries are for little girls, but I know he's only trying to pretend he's tough. Inside, I know he's just as scared as Olivia and me and I can't pretend that I'm not. I'd love to just condensate all of my feelings into some songs and move on with my life, but what's happening isn't at the same tormenting level as the song writing process. If it were, I'd turn everything into a pile of chords and melodies and just play them away, letting them become part of other people, because they would never understand what truly happened behind the lyrics. If I could only turn them all into a song… Into a terribly angry song, with heavy drums and some metal vocals… The Cursed Vaults would be the intro, the Cabal would be the bridge and R would be the chorus. Everything would just be easily set aside, lost in some music sheet somewhere.
But no.
Things aren't as simple as choosing some specific chords. Everything seems to be set to explode and the timer seems to be hidden somewhere away from the surface, so I can never truly see how much longer I still have to solve these puzzles. But it's like the Stones said. Time waits for no one and it won't wait for me.
Someone normal, sane and centred, upon finding their missing brother's lost diary, would devour it all, with no hesitation whatsoever, desperate swallowing the words in the hopes of answers or inner peace.
Someone.
Not me.
From the moment I held Jake's diary in my hands – the grey cover bearing stickers of The Beatles, Aerosmith and Kiss, and its yellowed pages with a few folded corners -, something inside of me said that it would be too overwhelming for me to comprehend all at once. The first page was the hardest one. Jake's word were filled with angst and turmoil, but pinches of hope and happiness at the same time, which led me to tears and to a constant cold that seemed to tower over me.
Even though I want to read it all, I know that I can't. Each page is more complicated than the previous, filled with nonsensical thoughts, scribbles, drawings, lyrics and confessions that mention R every three sentences. Every now and then, the same question appears, written hurriedly on the corners.
Who is R?
It is like he is asking me this question. Upon reading his words, his voice becomes more and more vivid in my head, loudly echoing every time I hold his diary. Talbott said it's because his diary is likely drenched in his magic, guiding me through the maze of his thoughts. It is natural that I get overwhelmed. Jake is my brother. He's been missing for years. I have his diary in my hands.
It isn't easy to sink in.
One night, after gathering the courage to read another page, I found the page of June 13th, where he wrote the most beautiful and heart-breaking song, dedicated for me. The song, entitled Tiny Converses by the Dandelions, shattered my heart in a thousand pieces, making me sob through me night with the notebook against my chest.
Jake doesn't know how much I miss him.
I didn't know it myself, up until now.
It hurts me that he's not around and that he had to go through whatever he went through in order to rescue the castle. It hurts even more that the majority of people – the ones that were supposed to be responsible – weren't there for him. They allowed Duncan to be killed. They kicked Olivia out.
She told me not to look for her. The memories are still too vivid in her head and all that she wants is some peace, far away from the castle. The only reason she sent me the diary, was that Jake started appearing in her dreams, telling her to look after me. She said she knew she wasn't strong enough to do that. The only thing she could do was to give me my brother's journal, that ended up in her doorstep before he went missing, with the message that she'd never be able to read it due to the countless spells and that it was imperative that it found me one day.
Do not think that I don't worry about him. Jacob was my best friend. If only I had been stronger and smarter… There isn't a single day that I don't regret being heedless. If I had been more careful, I'd still be around to help.
Olivia's words managed to hit me deeply. Whoever she was, she was involved. It was Jacob, Duncan and her, together against the evil lurking in the shadows, trying to make the world listen to them. They were horrendously ignored. Just a trio of teens, misunderstood and naïve, who tried to make everything right. And it cost Duncan his life, cost Jacob his freedom and cost Olivia her courage.
The main difference between Jake and I, is that I have a larger family of friends. In the end, will all of us lose a part of ourselves? Will we end up like Jacob, Duncan and Olivia?
The thoughts are deep and hurtful. Holding Jake's diary next to me brings me no peace, but I need it around me. Every night, I take a deep breath and read another passage, hoping it will lead me somewhere safe, but it doesn't.
In the end, Jake was like the first Vault.
Cursed.
Frozen.
Lost.
I just hope that, as I was able to find the first Vault, I'm able to find him as well.
Unaware of my recent findings, Rakepick remains in silence, being recluse inside her office whenever she isn't teaching.
The task of breaking the curse and saving the students?
Ignored.
Merula, witty beyond compare, managed to discover that Rakepick is spending all her free time with her nose glued to the Marauder's Map, desperately trying to find out the entrance to the next Vault. But if her "desperate" means "desperately wanting to free the castle from this curse" or "desperately desiring whatever is inside it", we are still to find out, though my intuition leads me to the latter.
It is only on the unsuspicious Friday of February 15th that she breaks her silence, sending me a message for me to meet her in her office at five. Rowan, in a mixture of suspicion and concern, follows me to Rakepick's office, but waits around the corner until I'm inside, only then to be on guard outside of the door.
"Just in case I hear some screaming, or I see blood puddling underneath the door," she said to me.
The snakes are gone, but now their aquariums are filled with Marmites and Lobalugs, which glisten in neon blue and bright yellow respectively, under the dim light of the classroom. Rakepick is waiting for me by her office door, just at the end of the staircase on the right corner of the room. Her red hair seems to be shinier and her smirk, even more mischievous. If anything, she looks like a theatre star that just won an award.
"By your grin, I imagine you found the Vault's entrance," I say.
"Not yet, Miss Lockhart, but I believe I'm almost there," she says, crossing her arms. "I assume you are curious about why I summoned you here today, alone."
"Everything you do makes me assume things but do tell me. Why aren't Bill and Merula here as well?"
"I have already summoned Mr. Weasley," she explains. "He came on Monday for a private practice. Miss Snyde will be coming on Friday, but I won't warn her until then."
"Why not?"
She smiles. "I don't want her to prepare," she says. "What I'm doing to teach you today, is how to face danger without any prepare."
"And how do you propose we do it?" I ask.
I barely have time to ratiocinate before she lifts her wand at me, sending a bold of orange light in my direction, leaving me only time to throw myself onto the ground, falling behind a desk that serves as a shield, but that is mercilessly destroyed as soon as the spell hits it. I reach for my wand, rolling on the ground to avoid being struck, and hiding behind a suit of armour before catching my breath.
"Stupefy!" I shout, but my spell hits the chalkboard, as Rakepick is horrendously fast and manages to dodge it effortlessly.
"Don't be so gentle, Miss Lockhart!" she says. "Look for the darkness if you need to."
"Everte Statum!"
"You are being too naïve," she continues. "This isn't nearly as dark as the things I can teach you."
"I won't use dark magic!" I shout as a lighting of gold hits the wall beside my head.
"Of course, you won't!" she says. "You're too sweet for that! You wouldn't use if even if you knew how!"
"That's not what I mean!" I bark, climbing on the window seat. "Confringo Tria! What I meant is that I wouldn't use dark magic for such insignificant reason!"
"Admit it, Miss Lockhart!" she shouts. "You are too damn weak to find the Vaults by yourself. That's why you need your worthless gang with you! If you were truly strong, you wouldn't be afraid of dark magic! You would even be bold enough to cast an Unforgivable Curse at me, but you aren't bold! You are weak and pathetic!"
I growl, kicking the suit of armour aside. "Expulso!"
She shields herself, laughing from behind her spell. "Let's if I've been a good teacher. Show me that you can defend yourself from the dark arts!"
My eyes widen as three consecutive jolts of blue light explode from her wand, giving me almost no time to jump to the floor as the wall that was once behind me crumbles in tiny pieces of stone. My heart, aching from the speed, seems to be racing inside my throat. Another spell, a lighting of a deep red colour, comes straight in my direction, and I cast Protego Maxima, forming a shield around me, protecting myself inside a thick bubble.
"Remarkable as I once told you," she says. "You are perfectly able to shape your spells any way you want. But how long will this bubble last?"
Four or five more spells hit me, and I begin feeling my shield weakening. Each gulp is painful, and my arm start to tremble from the strength and concentration needed to keep the protection spell. However, after a few more hits, it dissipates. When Rakepick lifts her wand again, ready to strike me, I lift my own wand, high towards the ceiling, to cast another shield. Before I'm even able to pronounce the spell, a jolt of purple hits my wand, making it tremble violently in my hand, sending a bolt of dark energy through my body. When I try to pull my wand back at me, something strange happens. A loud cracking sound fills the room and my eyes widen when my wand – my amazing wand – shatters in a bunch of little pieces.
Rakepick, standing by the chalkboard, throws her head back and laughs, while I, on the floor, stare at my beloved wand, now defeated. With a ball of anger forming inside of me, I grab a stone that is lying close to my foot and throw it, as strongly as I can, hitting her right in her nose. Instead of the awful sound that came from my shattering wand, the sound of her nose breaking is delightful. She takes both her hands to her face, cursing me with her entire repertoire. Getting up and wiping my hands on my skirt, I leave the room, finding Rowan absentmindedly reading something from her notebook.
"Holy cow, Athie!" she gasps. "What happened to you?"
"Didn't you hear anything?" I ask her.
She shakes her head. "It was a sepulchral silence. What did that spiteful woman do to you?"
"I'll tell you everything," I say. "Let's just get out of here. I need to speak to Professor Snape before dinner."
Pleasingly, Thursday and Friday's lectures require no spellcasting. Professor McGonagall's lesson on the formula of weight by concentration isn't nearly as interesting as the conversation I had with Professor Snape, right after telling Rowan everything that happened between Rakepick in I in her classroom. Bill gets shocked when I tell him about it, because, apparently, his lesson with Rakepick was very calm. Merula, trying to contain her fright, goes to her private lesson with Rakepick on Friday, armed with her entire knowledge of protection spells.
"That woman is a psycho," Rowan comments on Saturday morning, while we're having breakfast. "I'm just glad that you managed to break her nose, Athie."
"Yeah, apparently Madam Pomfrey refused helping her," Tulip says. "She only provided her with that awful cast. Her face will be bruised and swollen for days…"
"Well, she saw it coming," Rowan adds. "What was she expecting? That you'd cast the Killing Curse at her?"
"I'm not gonna lie," I say. "I'd love to see her die in a blast of green light."
"Aren't you a little too nice for something that dark?" Tulip asks.
"I don't know," Talbott says. "I wouldn't test her if I were you."
"How are you going to manage without a wand?" she asks.
"I sent a message to Mrs. Gwendolyn and asked her what I could do about it," I tell her. "She told me to go there, because she's got this whole new stock of wands, but, unfortunately, Hogsmeade day is only on next week."
"And are you going to spend an entire week without a wand?" Tulip gasps. "What if someone attacks you?"
"Then we'll be around to protect her," Rowan adds, spreading butter on her toast with simplicity.
Rowan lends me her wand during the afternoon, while we're in the common room practicing some spells. Using her wand is immensely different than using my wand, for hers keep wanting to control my movements, making all my spells look like ridiculous reflections of what they usually are.
On Sunday morning, I decide to take some rest from wands, finding comfort in the gentle breeze and the lulling sound from the fountain in the Courtyard, reading my Herbology notes with Talbott by my side. I find some interesting information about the Screechsnap and add it on the corner of my notebook, by the illustration that I did of the strange plant. Next to me, Talbott is studying Horklumps, the space in between his brows crinkled due to the concentration. In the Courtyard, other students are gathered, playing Gobstones and chatting. Under the big tree in the corner, I see Jay Kim smuggling something to Tulip and Tonks and then shoving some coins in his pocket, walking away with a grin on his face.
I drop the book over my legs, stretching and allowing the sun to kiss my face, when I see, standing by the Clocktower's balcony, Professor Snape making a discrete gesture for me to follow him.
"I'll be right back," I tell Talbott, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I think Professor Snape wants to talk to me."
"Be careful, Bubo," he says with a smile, returning his eyes to the list of different Horklumps that exist in Europe.
When I enter the Clocktower, I see Professor Snape turning the corner, climbing down the stairs and walking swiftly towards the dungeons. I follow him hastily and curiously, walking by kissing couples and mischievous groups discussing Fanged Frisbees. The sunlight vanishes when I climb down the stone stairs that lead to the dungeons, following him into his classroom.
The door closes heavily behind me and, when I look at him to ask what's going on, I notice there's someone else in the room with us.
The woman, old and with a very long hair the colour of cherries, smiles softly at me. She's wearing a dark blue dress that seems to be made of velvet and the pointy hat on her head bears a circle of nine blue gemstones that glisten under the candle lights.
"Miss Lockhart, this is Ava DunBroch," Professor Snape tells me. "She is part of a long lineage of wandmakers in Scotland and I required her presence here today to assist you with your new wand."
I open my mouth to speak a few times, but each time I end up closing it, flabbergasted. The woman pulls her long hair that almost touches the floor over her left shoulder and looks at me with curiosity. By her side, on top of Professor Snape's desk, lies more than a hundred different boxes, all of different colours and bearing different symbols.
"Let me take a look at you, my dear," the woman tells me in a deep Scottish accent, reaching out to hold my face on her soft wrinkled hand. "There is water in you. No. Not just water. An entire ocean. Maelstroms and seaquakes… Waves of secrets and depths of intelligence. Cinnamon wands wouldn't be useful to you anymore anyway, my dear. Do not grief your broken wand. Something better waits for you."
She walks around me a few times, landing a finger of long crimson lacquered nail on my shoulder or arm, eyeing me as if I'm a raw diamond ready to be polished. "You are stronger than you used to be. Firm yet flexible. Unbreakable and full of light… Very interesting. Common wands, of wood and magical core won't be enough for you. The magic you have requires something else…"
She heads to the desk, fishing five different boxes from the big pile, organizing them side by side on top of a near table. My hand is instantly drawn to one of them: the second one, in the deep purple box adorned by golden arabesques and tiny yellow gemstones.
Ms. DunBroch's lips curl in a satisfied smile. "It called for you. What did you feel?"
I stare at the box. "A pull. Magnetism…"
Her smile enlarges. "Let's see what waits for you, my dear."
Hesitantly, I remove the lid, revealing the most breath-takingly beautiful wand I have ever seen. It is unlike anything I have seen throughout the years od magical education. The wand is made of a wood that is a marble of mahogany and ebony colour. Right above the handle, a swirl of silver draws a beautiful pattern along the wood, dotted with tiny light-blue gems, ending in a tower shaped blue stone.
"Ironwood," she explains. "Embellished with titanium and fortified with Pixie's Parasol and ending in a strongly magical aquamarine gem."
"Divine," I whisper, running my finger along the silvery arabesque, feeling the tiny gems under my skin. At the tip, the aquamarine seems to glisten ethereally.
"It isn't easily broken," she tells me. "It will strengthen you as you will strengthen it. If you felt powerful holding cinnamon, ironwood will show you the pathway to ancient magic. It will complete you with everything that was missing. With this blend in your hands, you will open the path to your destiny."
I wrap the courage to remove it from the box, holding it softly in my hand, allowing the light to flood it. The feeling of holding it is inexplicable. I can feel the magic running with my blood, making its path along my body and sending shivers of energy all over me. In front of me, the aquamarine creates a globe of bluish light that seems to engulf the room in crystalized light.
"Extraordinary," the word escapes my lips.
The woman smiles widely. "My job here is done," she says. "Thank you for requesting my presence, Severus. It was remarkable to know her."
"Wait, how much do I owe you?" I ask.
"I have it covered," Professor Snape says, simply. "Thank you for coming, Ava."
Swinging her long hair with her movement, she walks towards the fireplace inside his office, disappearing in a flash of greenish light. Mesmerized, I stare at the wand in astonishment, trying to comprehend the many things that happened in the course of a few days.
"Pleased with your new wand?" he asks me.
I look at him. "Pleased? It is spectacular! I had never seen a wand like this… Not in real life, at least. I have seen illustrations in books about ancient magic, but-"
"This is ancient magic," he tells me, removing his own wand from his pocket. "Looks like a simply ebony wand. Perhaps Ollivanders would add a feather core to it and be satisfied, but other wandmakers are not afraid of experimenting with ingredients. Ingrained in the wood is a blend of black pearl, volcano ash and onyx. It is more than wood and a core. This is ancient magic. This is alchemy."
"Fascinating," I say, eyeing his movements in ecstasy.
"Fascinating is what you have done to Rakepick," he says. "More fascinating is what you will do to her with this majestic wand. Remember, it can be the source of power, the conductor of it and, sometimes, a weapon."
I nod. "I'll remember that."
"I am sure that the path to excellence will be easier than ever for you now," he says, lastly.
I leave the dungeons still feeling the sparks of magic simmering in my blood. It's like my entire body is electrified, being connected to the wand in my hand as if we are entangling in each other like vines around a tree. Each step seems full of energy and when I return to the Courtyard, Talbott seems to immediately see that something is different.
"Why are you irradiating this bluish light?" he asks me, and I show him the wand. "Remarkable… Sounds like something straight from an Avalon poem…"
"I feel invincible holding it," I tell him. "I feel like I could blast into Rakepick's office right now and turn her into a puddle of melted gelatine."
He laughs. "Do it. I'd love to watch."
After lunch, by the glistening waters of the lake where a few weeks before we had an encounter with a yeti, Rowan, Charlie, Barnaby, Penny, Liz, Talbott and I find the perfect spot to enjoy the sun after stuffing our stomachs with copious amounts of stew.
"What a delightful day," Rowan says, stretching out on the grass, letting the chunks of grass and small flowers get in between her fingers. "No yetis… No Rakepick… No-"
"STOP IT!" a loud and hysterical shout makes a flock of birds that were scratching nearby fly away desperately. "GIVE IT BACK!"
"OH, BARNABY! YOUR EYES ARE LIKE A SEA OF MALACHITES! HOW I LONG FOR YOUR LIPS OF HONEY AND MINT! I DON'T KNOW HOW THEY TASTE LIKE, BUT I BET IT'S LIKE THIS…"
"Did she just say my name?" Barnaby asks, confused, as we stare at the source of the fuss, to a group of girls that is descending the stairs that lead to the gardens, followed by a nervous and wretched Ismelda.
"I DREAMT OF BARNABY YESTERDAY AGAIN… WE WERE MAKING OUT UNDER A CHERRY TREE AND HE PULLED OUT A RING AND ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM! OH, MERLIN, HOW BLESSED I'D BE IF IT WERE TO COME TRUE!"
"She said it again," Barnaby says. "Are there other Barnabys in the castle?"
"No, Barney," Liz says. "Just you."
"I TOLD YOU TO GIVE IT BACK!" Ismelda shouts, tearing falling down her cheeks in streaks of smudged eyeliner.
"LOOK, EVERYONE! MISS ISMELDA PATHETIC MURK IS CRYING! I GUESS EVEN PSYCHOPATHS CAN CRY!" a tall girl, wearing a winter pink dress says, in a loud tone, as if informing everyone of the fact. "LOOK! THERE'S BARNABY! C'MON, ISMELDA! WHY DON'T YOU GO THERE PROFESS YOUR UNDYING LOVE FOR HIM?"
"NO!" Ismelda cries. "STOP IT!"
The girl, holding a baby pink book, hops excitedly towards us, followed by a troupe of other girls that are exchanging mean smirks, snickers and stares. As she steps closer, I recognize Emily, the disgusting girl that Bill had the nerve to fall in love with a few years back. She stops near us, smirking with her perfectly shaped bright pink lips, shaking the baby pink book right above Barnaby's head.
"HE'S RIGHT HERE, ISMELDA!" she shouts. "COME AND RETRIEVE YOUR PRINCE CHARMING!"
I stand up. "You haven't learned the last time, have you, Emily?" I hiss. "You continue the same loathsome brat."
"Mind your own business, Athena," she spits. "You don't even like Ismelda. Why bother defending her? She was the one stupid enough to drop her diary in the corridor. I bet she was desperate for Barnaby to find out how much she wants him."
Next to Liz, Barnaby gets redder than a tomato.
"I'd get embarrassed if I were you too, Barnaby," Emily says. "Who would want that frog having a crush on you? I'd be disgusted!"
"I am disgusted by your sordid demeanour, Emily," I say. "Give Ismelda her diary back and go find something better to do. Like fall down a well and die, perhaps."
"Why don't you go find a curse to break, Athena?" she says, meanly.
I grin. "Okay. I will. Wingardium Leviosa!"
She is engulfed by a sheen of shimmering white light and immediately I feel the power of my new wand. It makes Emily lighter than a feather, allowing me to quickly move her aside like a ragdoll, which makes her drop Ismelda's diary next to Rowan. I stop her a few meters above the lake water, eyeing her with repulsion.
"YOU ARE SUCH A TWAT, ATHENA LOCHART!" she shouts. "PUT ME DOWN!"
I smile widely. "As you wish."
With a gentle movement of wrist, I sink Emily onto the water, quickly pulling her back and repeating the movement a few times, as if I'm trying to wash her. Her friends, watching the scene, do nothing to intervene. My friends, on the other side, burst into laughter. When I finally release Emily from my spell, I drop her onto the ground, soaking wet.
"Are you done making people feel miserable, Emily?" I ask. "Why don't you go back to the hole that you came from and let us enjoy the rest of our Sunday?"
Boiling in anger, Emily rises from the ground and runs back to the castle, screaming at her friends that didn't help her. I retrieve Ismelda's diary from the grass and walk to her, noticing the dismayed expression upon her stern face.
"Here," I say, handing it to her. "I think it belongs to you."
She reaches out to grab it with trembling hands, immediately taking the book towards her chest, holding it dearly. "Thank you."
With a quick glance at Barnaby, which causes her face to get bright scarlet, Ismelda turns on her heels and rushes back to the castle, leaving us in complete bafflement.
"Interesting," Rowan says. "Ismelda know the words thank you."
"And she's capable of human emotion," Liz adds. "Another one for your fan club, Barney! Beatrice and now Ismelda… You're a real heartbreaker."
Covering his face with his hands, Barnaby lets out an embarrassed groan. "How did that even happen?"
"Wasn't it obvious?" Rowan says. "Ismelda dropped her diary… Emily found it… She told the entire school about Ismelda's deep love for you… And now you'll have to marry her."
"But I don't wanna marry her!" he says. "Ismelda is… weird."
"Don't judge the book based on the cover, Barney," Liz says.
"But I'm not basing on the cover," he says. "I've seen the interior and it is creepy as hell."
I shrug. "Well, at least now we know that both Merula and Ismelda are capable of deep feelings."
"Barnaby and Ismelda, under a tree…" Rowan chants, pretending to kiss her book.
"Merlin's boots…" Barnaby gasps, falling on the grass, anxious.
Rowan drops her book beside her, her head pending as she stares deeply into the ground in a sudden silence. "You know… Emily was right about something…
"And what was that?" I ask.
"That you are a twat, Athie," she says.
I laugh, but the slow lift of Rowan's face towards me and the strange gleam in her eyes makes my smile vanish. "Row?"
"You are always interfering when no one asks you to," she says, gravely. "You think you're better than everybody else… Ismelda didn't need your help… You think you're entitled to whatever you want… Always snooping around… Thinking you own the world…"
I gulp. "Row?"
She slowly stands up, her hand reaching for her wand and aiming it at me. "We don't need you, Athie… No one needs you…"
"Rowan…" I say, looking for my own wand. "What's going on?"
"Honeybee?" Charlie calls. "You are scaring us…"
"You need to learn a lesson, Athie…" she says. "Someone needs to put you in your place. To show you where you truly belong. Perhaps a little pain… Yes… It will make you learn. Cru-"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Stupefy!"
"Everte Statum!"
"Flipendo!"
"Confundo!"
Five bolts of different colours hit Rowan straight on her chest, sending her a few meters away, making her fall heavily onto the ground, unconscious. Her black her is spread around her head and her closed eyes and serene face denote nothing but sweetness.
"Pumpkin!" Charlie shouts, dropping his wand and rushing to her. "I'm so sorry!"
"Bubo?" Talbott says, landing a hand on my shoulder.
I gulp. "What just happened?"
* Whitney Houston, I'm Every Woman
