CW: mentions of smoking and other drug use.
When I landed outside the Leaky Cauldron, I was momentarily unsure of why I was even there. Suddenly, four hands grabbing me around my waist reminded me.
"There you are!" Francis exclaimed.
"We thought you'd never show, chérie!" Clo gasped.
"I'm sorry I kept you both waiting," I said, dusting off my jacket and wiping my eyes. "Fred and I took a minute saying goodbye."
"We can see that," Francis said, reaching forward to brush a tear from my cheek.
"And now that you're here, it is not the time to be sad over boys! Or anything, for that matter!" Clo exclaimed, grabbing both of our hands. "It's our time, down here."
"Clo, you're watching far too many American movies," Francis chuckled. Clo rolled her eyes, squeezed both our hands, then pivoted on her heel, thrusting us all back into the dark once more.
When we arrived at our destination, I was almost certain that we'd come to Grimmauld Place, despite that being impossible. With our hands still entwined with Clo's, Francis and I followed her up the steps of a red-brick row house with a red front door. When we entered, I heard Clo call up the stairs to someone.
"Bonsoir, Papa!" she called.
"I'm here, darling, right here," said a voice from the adjacent drawing room. An extremely handsome, middle-aged man sat in a white loveseat, books and newspapers strewn across the mahogany coffee table before him. He had long, salt-and-pepper hair and tanned skin, like he'd spent decades under the sun in his youth. He stood up to greet us, using a cane with a golden hilt to cross the room to us. When he reached the threshold of the door, I could tell that his face was paler than I originally thought it to be and remembered how Clo told me that her father wasn't in the best of health nowadays.
"You two must be Francis and Cassiopeia," he said warmly, extending his free hand to the two of us. "Addison LaCross, it's a pleasure to meet you both."
Francis and I each shook Clo's father's hand, which trembled ever so slightly in our grasp. Clo jumped off the step of the stairs to give her father a kiss on the cheek.
"We're all going out tonight, Papa. I wanted to bring Francis and Cass here to get ready, and I thought you'd like to meet Claudius's newest apprentice!" Clo exclaimed.
Addison raised his eyebrows and his icy blue eyes fell on me, causing the fiery feeling to return to my cheeks.
"Ah, Clotilde told me you were working with Claudius now!" he exclaimed. "I was once a Potioneer like you. Claudius and I worked together on and off for many years. My hands aren't as good as they once were, but I do enjoy making the occasional brew that isn't to keep my health in order. What's your specialty?"
"Sleeping Draughts of all sorts," I replied. "I find they keep the nightmares at bay. I have those frequently, so necessity has really been the mother of invention, in my case."
"That's the beauty of potionmaking, isn't it? Finding just the right brew that changes your circumstances? One that makes things a little more bearable?" Addison implored. "One of the most difficult, and most underrated, forms of magic, in my opinion. And you, Francis, you're the historian? From what my daughter tells me, you wish to be the next Bathilda?"
"I could only hope to be the next Bathilda," Francis exclaimed, shooting Clo a glance. "I'm trying to find a position in the Magical Artefacts department now. It hasn't been easy, but I'm trying."
"And that, my young friends, is all you can do, isn't it?" he asked us. "My goodness, I'm quite pleased to see my daughter has such good taste in friends!"
"Yes, yes, and if you don't stop chatting, your daughter and her friends will never make it out!" Clo exclaimed. "We won't forget to say goodbye, Papa!"
And with that, Clo grabbed our hands again and pulled us up the marble staircase toward a door on the second floor. Clo flung it open, and Francis and I were met with what had to be the most elegantly bedroom in all of London.
The walls were white and lined with colorful Muggle movie posters from decades ago, the ones I recognized being Dr. No, To Catch a Thief, Funny Face, and Butterfield 8, which were on tapes I'd seen at Ted and Andy's house last summer. The gaps between the posters were filled with black and white photos of London, Paris, and Los Angeles, California in the 1960s, as well as photos of models from the 1960s in miniskirts, long hair, and wide, heavily lined eyes.
"Clo, none of these photographs move," Francis said, peering at a photo of Jean Shrimpton in a white sequined top and matching trousers.
"No, they do not! I wanted to cover my room in things I actually liked, not things wizards think I should like," Clo explained. "Hence, why there are no moving photos in this room, except for the ones of my family. Alright, time to change now!"
As I admired the dress that adorned a mannequin in the corner of Clo's room, she waved her wand, and the closet door flew open revealing a closet that looked about as large as Clo's entire house. Francis and I turned to each other with gaping mouths and wide eyes.
"Clo, how the bloody hell did you manage that?!" Francis exclaimed.
"It's magic, I suppose," she said with a wink. "Come in, come in! We've got to find something for you both to wear!"
Francis and I obliged, following Clo into the maze of blouses, dresses, trousers, and shoes that covered the closet from floor to ceiling. I reached out to touch as many pieces as I could, my fingers feeling every fabric under the sun, from silk to satin to wool and everything in between. I couldn't believe what I was seeing – this was the purest, most wholesome magic I'd seen in my entire life.
"Cass, I think you should wear this dress, no questions asked," Clo announced, strutting over to me with a dark green minidress with a pattern of horizontal, black and white half circles and a thin bow that tied around the middle. The dress had long sleeves and a V-shaped cutout in the middle of the neckline. It was daring and unlike any wizard or Muggle clothes I'd ever worn. I took the dress apprehensively, giving Clo a nervous smile.
"Francis, I've been working on something special for you. Viens ici!" she exclaimed, beckoning Francis over to her. After a few minutes of gasps, giggles, and Clo reassuring Francis that they'd look perfect, Francis disappeared behind a curtain at the back of the closet. Clo bounded over to me, a playful smile creeping across her face.
"I've been working on something for Francis, have been for several months now," she whispered. "Just wait."
After five minutes, Francis peeked their head out from behind the curtain.
"Alright…you ready?" they asked slowly.
We nodded. After a minute, Francis emerged from behind the curtain. My jaw dropped.
I had never seen any of Clo's designs before, but this…this was the most breathtaking piece of clothing I'd ever seen on any person, probably ever. Clo had crafted a black and white jumpsuit from a stretchy, black and white material, thin black strips across the chest and one long, black panel down Francis's entire body. The sleeves clung tightly to them, but fit loosely around the chest, then billowing down into black and white bell bottoms. Around Francis's shoulders was an enormous, white fur coat.
"Francis, you look- "
"Exactly look Twiggy?" Clo asked. "That's exactly what I was going for."
"Clo...I can't thank you enough!" Francis exclaimed, their face lighting up when they caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror. "I rarely ever say this…but I actually feel- "
"Stunning? Entrancing? Enchanting?" Clo finished, wrapping her arms around Francis's shoulders. They nodded, wiping a tear from their eyes. I beamed with pride at both my friends. Clo had the power to make everyone not only look beautiful but feel beautiful too. She was right; that was the real magic.
After another thirty minutes of fussing with our hair and makeup, Clo, Francis, and I were ready to go out. My hair was pulled from its clip, curled and teased the Muggle way, and my eyes were lined with thick, dark pencil. I looked like one of the models on Clo's wall. Francis, on the other hand, was an almost carbon copy of Twiggy, their hair pulled back in a sleek bun and their eyes lined with the same black pencil as mine.
I was having so much fun with my friends that I'd completely forgotten that I hadn't gone home to tell Sirius and Remus that I'd be out again tonight. Oh, well, I thought. Guess I'll have to accept the punishment when it comes.
"Alright, are we ready to go?" Clo asked, smoothing her miniskirt in front of the mirror. We nodded, then ran down the stairs, past the front door and Clo's father once more.
"Goodnight, Papa!" she called.
"Night, Mr. Lacrosse!" Francis and I called in unison.
When we crossed the threshold of the front door, Clo turned around to look at us both. She raised her thick, dark eyebrows mischievously.
"So," she asked. "What would you little maniacs like to do first?"
We decided to go for some wizarding nightlife first, Apparating to a pub with a broken-down front door and a sign that said DO NOT ENTER. Nevertheless, Clo led us up two flights of creaky, wooden steps to a lively, well-lit dance club called The Moonlight Club. Witches and wizards not much older than us weaved about, dancing to the Weird Sisters songs that played from the corner. When I tried to find a record player or radio, I couldn't, because when I turned to face the direction of the music, I saw the Weird Sisters themselves dancing and singing onstage.
"We don't have to stay for very long!" Clo yelled over the music. "I thought it might be fun to see some live music, since I know you like it so much!"
"I do love it!" I yelled back, scanning the room for a bartender. "I'm just not sure how much I like wizard rock music!"
Clo laughed, then led Francis and I over to a corner next to the stage, ordering three Ogden's Old and ginger beers for us. We toasted, then stayed in our spot in the corner, bobbing our heads and dancing slightly to the music. It was a good way to start off the night, but the lights and loud noises of the Moonlight Club were already bothering me. I continued to sip my drink and bob my head to the music, hoping the irritation would subside. When it didn't, I turned to Clo and Francis, who appeared to be finished with The Moonlight Club as well.
"Alright, one very boring club down," Clo said as we wandered back out onto the lit street. "Where to next?"
Francis grabbed both our hands and grinned broadly.
"I know just the place. Come along," they whispered, before pivoting on their heel and sucking us back into the air once more.
"I think if we're going to Apparate, someone's got to stay sober!" I said, rubbing my temples. "That was the most topsy-turvy trip I've ever taken."
"I'll do the honors," Francis said casually, dusting off the fur coat. "I don't much like drinking, anyway."
"What is your poison then, Francis?" Clo inquired. Francis smirked.
"I much prefer herbs," they said with a devilish grin. "Follow me!"
We dashed after Francis, who was running toward a brick building with a bright blue door. As I surveyed our surroundings, I realized we were back in Muggle London, but I wasn't certain where. I'd seen plenty of brick buildings with blue doors in the city before but couldn't be sure that I'd been here before.
When Francis reached the door, they withdrew their wand from the fur coat and tapped out a code of sorts on the door – three taps with the tip of the wand, three with the butt. We waited a moment, the anticipation building in the air around us. Suddenly, the door opened, and there was darkness.
"Come on, then!" Francis whispered, guiding us to the doorstep. "Be really careful, alright? This part might come as a bit of a shock."
Then, Francis stepped forward and fell through the darkness, disappearing.
"FRANCIS!" I called, alarmed.
"FRANS, WHERE ARE YOU?" Clo hissed.
"I'm down here!" Francis bellowed, clearly not far below. "You've got to jump! It's the only way!"
Clo and I exchanged looks. It was now or never. Trusting Francis blindly, we grasped hands, crossed the threshold, then fell through the floor, traveling only a few stories through the dark and landing on our behinds.
"Right, then! Follow me," Francis said casually, as if we all hadn't just fallen through a hole in the floor of a building we'd never visited before. Trusting Francis blindly once more, Clo and I followed. We reached another door, maroon this time, and Francis tapped out another code with their wand – four taps with the tip of the wand, three with the butt, then laid it flat against the door where the peephole would be. The door opened once more, and we entered.
"Welcome," said Francis, "to the Gray Room."
I looked around wildly, surveying my surroundings once more. We weren't in any old pub, but a speakeasy, a secret watering hole for witches, wizards, and magical beings of all kinds. The walls were lined with black subway tiles and the floors were adorned with a gray and cornflower crest inlaid with the white tiles. The witches and wizards that surrounded us were dressed to the nines, and the three of us fit in far better here than at the Moonlight Club. There was jazz music playing from a bewitched piano, and the bar was a square that took up the center of the room, drinks being magically served at patrons from all angles.
Suddenly, a young man with long, reddish-blond hair emerged from behind the bar, his arms spread wide and his smile glittering. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any man I'd ever seen, even Fred. For a moment, I thought he looked just like-
"Francis!" the young man bellowed across the room. Francis whipped around, their face breaking into a grin as they caught the young man's eye.
"I was hoping you'd stick around to see us!" Francis said, striding over to the young man and wrapping their arms around him tightly. "Cass, Clo, this is my cousin Julius. Fellow rebel and runaway from the pureblood way of life and owner of the Gray Room. Julius Gray, meet Clotilde LaCross and Cassiopeia Malfoy."
Julius took both our hands and kissed them in greeting. Clo and I exchanged looks, blushing.
"Francis, you never told me you had such a handsome cousin," Clo said, batting her lashes ever so slightly at Julius.
"Yes, well, Frans never told me they had such breathtaking friends," Julius countered with a wink. "And I thought the Gray family were the most beautiful people in the world."
"Alright, quite flirting and help us imbibe, will you?" Francis said, rolling their eyes and leading us to the bar with Julius. He strutted behind the bar and leaned across is, scanning all our faces.
"What's your poison? Liquids? Herbs? Something hallucinogenic? The Gray Room's got it all," Julius said.
"I'll never say no to a drink," I piped up with a giggle.
"Nor will I," Clo agreed.
"You know what I like, Juls," Francis cut in.
Julius nodded, then waved his wand behind the bar to reveal a glass box filled with herbs and rolling papers. The box landed squarely in front of Francis and snapped open at their touch.
"You know how it works, cousin," he said. "Show your friends how it's done, will you?"
Francis withdrew their wand once more and waved it over a silver rolling paper and a small, glass jar of herbs. The bottle and paper flew into their hand, the bottle spilling out into the paper perfectly. The paper then rolled itself up into the perfect joint, which Francis grasped firmly, lighting the end with the tip of their wand. The joint illuminated, a puff of light blue and pink smoke billowing from the tip. Francis inhaled, closed their eyes, and exhaled the same blue and pink smoke, ecstasy washing over their face.
"Is that magic marijuana?" Clo asked Julius.
"Precisely," he affirmed. "That one's laced with lavender, moondust, and crushed anise pods. It's charmed to give off the effects of- "
"Absinthe," I finished. "It's absinthe, but in herb form."
"Correct," Julius affirmed again. "How did you know that, Miss Malfoy?"
"I'm a Potioneer's apprentice," I said. "I'm rather well versed in the art of concocting and combining herbs for a…desired effect, so to speak."
Julius raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.
"Alright, Potionsmistress-in-training, it's your turn," he said, reaching below the bar and pulling out a bottle of shocking pink liquid. I recoiled when I saw it.
"Don't tell me you actually serve Amortentia to people here!" I snapped. "That stuff's really dangerous if it falls into the wrong hands, you could ruin someone's life with- "
"Relax, relax, we don't actually serve it here," Julius explained. "I want you to smell it, tell me what you smell, then I'll make you a drink based on those scents. Sound good?"
Clo and I nodded. Julius uncorked the bottle and handed it to Clo, who inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes, a soft smile creeping across her face.
"Fruit tea…like raspberry, perhaps…sandalwood…cloves…"
Suddenly, her face contorted into a funny expression, giggling as she inhaled.
"What is it?" Francis asked, blue and pink smoke billowing out of their mouth.
"It's something…almost fresh? Not like toothpaste, but…a bit chemical? I'm not sure, it could be hair gel?"
"Could it be Sleakeazy's? Like Sleakeazy's Hair Potion?" I asked. "That stuff smells like your normal Muggle hair gel. Know anyone who uses it?"
Clo shook her head, her coily hair waving wildly in front of her face.
"I don't even know anyone who drinks fruit tea," she said, putting the bottle down throwing her hands in the air. "Well, time to drink, I suppose. Dazzle me, Julius!"
Julius nodded, then tapped his wand across five or six different bottles of liquor below the bar. Each bottle was then suspended over a cocktail shaker, pouring different amounts into it at rapid speed. With another wave of the wand, the shaker secured itself, then shook itself about thirty times in mid-air, the sound of rattling ice filling our corner of the bar. The shaker uncapped itself, then poured a glittering, pink liquid into a tall cocktail glass.
"There you are, Miss LaCross," Julius said. "It's everything you desire; therefore, it can't possibly be bad."
Clo took a careful sip, her eyes widening as she swallowed.
"C'est magnifique!" she muttered, staring at the glass. "Julius, it is perfect. You have impressed me, no doubt."
He beamed, then handed the bottle to me.
"Your turn, Miss Malfoy," he said.
I snatched the bottle from his hand and held it up to my nose. I didn't need to close my eyes, as I already knew what I was going to smell.
Tobacco…freshly mowed grass…cinnamon and cloves…mint…juniper berry…
Mint? Juniper berry?
I had no clue where I'd smelled juniper berry or mint before. Maybe Fred had snuck some of Walburga Black's century-old gin from the drawing room and I tasted it on him one night. Or maybe I'd never noticed the woodsy, pine-like scent on him. Either way, I was uneasy about smelling something I'd never smelled on Fred before.
"Tobacco, freshly mowed grass, cinnamon, clove," I said, choosing to omit the juniper and mint for fear of dwelling on it. "Dazzle me, Julius."
He nodded, repeated the same process with me as he did with Clo, then handed me a tall cocktail glass with the same glittery pink liquid. I took a careful sip. The base liquor was firewhiskey, but I could tell that clove syrup was involved as well. Lemon juice, rosemary, and the smell of smoke around the rim finished off the aroma of the drink, and as smile spread across my warm face as I swallowed.
"How is it?" Julius asked, leaning across the bar.
"It's bloody brilliant is what it is," I said, staring at the drink incredulously. "You're a genius, Gray."
"Why thank you, thank you very much!" Francis said, their eyes and cheeks slightly red. Clo and I giggled as the colorful smoke danced around their head, continuing to sip our drinks of desire. I couldn't believe what was happening right now; after spending my entire life surrounded by magic, I didn't know places like this could have ever existed. It felt like I was experiencing magic all over again for the first time, and that thrilled and terrified me all at once.
Amid my reveling with Clo and Francis, thoughts of Fred began to creep into my mind. When the thoughts crept in, the worry set in and I couldn't stop it. What was he doing right now? Was he still upset about the horrible things Draco said to him? Did he miss me? Would he write soon? What was really going on with that Defense professor that he didn't want to talk about it? Why didn't he think he could tell me?
"CASS!" Clo and Francis said in unison, shaking my shoulders and bringing me out of my head and back to earth. "You want to dance?"
I blinked, trying to process what they were asking me. Amid my worry, I forgot where I was and why I was there. You're at the Gray Room, I reminded myself. You're out having fun with your friends. You've got plenty of time to worry about Fred later.
I grinned, holding my drink aloft as I stood up from my seat.
"Why the bloody hell not?"
I couldn't tell you what happened in the next hour. I really couldn't.
Clo, Francis, and I were entwined with one another, spinning in circles in the middle of the Gray's Room's dancefloor. The bewitched piano had now become a bewitched jazz combo – piano, bass, drums, and saxophone – and played a tune I didn't recognize, but it was swinging, and we could twirl and twist to it all we wanted. Julius even came out from behind the bar to dance with us, pulling Clo into his arms and spinning her in circles, even going so far as to flip her over his arm.
Francis and I had even become entwined, our arms tangling up with one another as we danced to the rousing beat. I could feel my skirt lifting with every move and my hair whipping me in the face. I couldn't tell which was spinning faster; the room or me. Either way, I wanted to bask in the red lights of the Gray Room forever. Clearly, so did everyone else.
After an indetermined amount of time, my legs were beginning to give out under me. I stumbled back toward the bar and steadied myself on a stool. I heard a voice next to me. A voice I thought I recognized.
"Merlin, you look beautiful, Malfoy."
I looked up in the haze of the lights.
"Freddie?"
"Sorry?"
I shook my head and saw a dark-haired man sitting in the chair I was leaning on. He gave me a puzzled look when I clearly called him a stranger's name.
"Sorry," I muttered, moving away from him. "Thought you were someone else."
"I dunno this Freddie character, but I could be him if you wanted me to," he slurred, turning around to watch me go.
"She doesn't want you, Trembley," Julius said from behind me, coming back behind the back with Clo and Francis at his side. "Besides, you're cut off."
As this Trembley character argued with Julius, Francis turned to me.
"You ready to take off?" they asked. "I'm fine to Apparate, just tired is all."
"Anywhere else you'd like to go?" Clo asked me.
I considered for a minute. I was exhausted, but I did know of one final spot that would be open this late at night.
"Yeah, one more place," I said. "I'll tell you where it is."
I leaned over to whisper in Francis's ear. They nodded, then turned around to bid farewell to Julius.
"Lovely meeting you all!" he called. "You're welcome back anytime! Especially you, Miss LaCross!"
Clo rolled her eyes but winked at Julius when she thought none of us were looking.
"Goodbye, Julius," she called back to him as Francis and I led her away.
When we reached the hole into floor where we came in, Francis grabbed our hands, pivoted on their heel, and vanished us out of the Gray Room and into the air.
We landed right outside Covent Records.
"I came to this place all the time last summer," I explained as we walked through the doors. "They've got a record player that all the clubgoers take over late on weekends. You'll come in here in the wee hours of a Saturday morning and find people dancing like there's no tomorrow."
Clo and Francis looked impressed. I guided them through the aisles, past the cassettes and toward the discs and records. To my left, Clo leafed through a milk crate full of French artists; Francoise Hardy, Edith Piaf, and a few Cole Porter records that managed to make it in there. To my right, Francis was enthralled with the folk artists: Nick Drake, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Joni Mitchell. Meanwhile, I investigated all the rock music that would've been more Sirius and Remus's vintage. Maybe I'd bring home some records to apologize for breaking the rules and scaring them again.
"See anything you like?" Francis asked with a grin.
"Here and there," I replied, still leafing through the milk crates. "Even if I don't buy anything, this place was always my favorite to just walk around and get lost in music. Coming into Muggle bits of London always made me feel like I could be someone else. Not a Malfoy, not a Black, but just Cass. Or even someone other than Cass, if I wanted."
"I envy you," Francis said wistfully. "I wish I could escape my family's grasp as easily as you did. I don't really see or speak to them, but someone always tracks me down for family reunions or holidays. It'd just be easier if I was completely cut off, never having to associate with them again."
"How did Julius do it, then?" I asked.
"Julius went to Durmstrang," Francis explained. "Their affinity for the Dark Arts and all appealed to the family. Always has, always will. They wanted me to attend, but I refused. Julius went, then at the appointed hour – graduation – he announces he's forgoing a job offer at the Ministry to open a pub in London. Family was horrified. The Gray's have always had illustrious careers of some sort. This was not the plan for Julius."
"How'd he get the money to open the pub, then?"
"Our great-aunt Livia left him a huge sum of money. She always doted on him, thought he was meant for bigger and better things. So, he took the gold and ran. No one except me has seen him since."
"Wow," I breathed. "That's a hell of a story, Frans."
"I know," they said, wandering further down the aisle to a new milk crate. "I had the same chance to say no, to break free when they forced Borgin and Burke's on me, but I didn't. I'm starting to think I won't get the chance again. Hence, why I'm stuck."
"Stuck as you may be, you'll get your chance, Frans," I said plainly. "You know You-Know-Who's back, don't you? If he shows himself and his followers return…I dunno, they're going to need someone to document that."
Francis shrugged, trying to conceal their disbelief.
"We'll see, I suppose. Ah, I've found it!"
"Found what?!" Clo and I asked in unison.
Francis darted over to the record player, switched out the black discs, and dropped the needle. King Harvest's "Dancing in the Moonlight" now filled Covent Records, Francis dancing next to the record player and beckoning to me to dance with them.
"'We get it almost every night/When that moon gets so big and bright/It's a supernatural delight/Everybody's dancing in the moonlight- C'MON, MALFOY!" they bellowed, wiggling their fingers at me.
I shimmied over to Francis and took their hand, letting spin me around and into their arms. Clo watched from the corner, giggling as Francis and I danced around one another wildly.
"'Everybody here's outta sight/they don't bark, and they don't bite- "
"It's a supernatural delight/everybody as dancing in the moonlight- "
"'Dancing in the moonlight!'" Clo sang from the corner, coming over to join Francis and I in our dance. We widened our circle to fit Clo and we swayed back and forth to the dreamy beat, letting go of each other's hands to make wild gestures as we danced about.
As Clo spun around me, I caught a whiff of mint on her neck.
As Francis took my hand and led me in a fast-paced dance, I smelled juniper berries on their wrist and coat.
I did smell Fred earlier in the Gray Room, there was no doubt. But I also smelled Clo and Francis, my new friends, and two people I'd come to love in different ways. I never knew Amortentia could smell like people you loved as friends, but I guess the love I felt for them was just as strong as the love I felt for Fred. I felt lucky, so lucky I could cry, that I had friends that I loved – and seemed to love me – as much as I loved them.
Being friends with Clo and Francis – the bewitched closets, the crappy clubs, the cool cousins and wild nights – was pure magic. And at this point, I was certain that the magic between the three of us was going to last forever.