A/N: This is the chapter I've been wanting to write forever! (And you have to for how long it's taken me to write it! God you'd think it would be easy to write like a muggle)"Do you believe in magic, Am?" OMFG philosophy out of young Mr. Black and young Lass O'Connor LoL! I've learned to stop using stars - as in astrixes, because they don't show when it transfers to HTML. (HTML also doesn't like underscores or carrots ) I don't know why not, but whatever, right? Anyway it might be a bit different from my original "taste". Thanx to everyone who read and reviewed you are my heroes! This chapter is totally dedicated to you ppl and to Josh who is (usually) a correction God (although he missed that 'you're' 'your' thing which is now going to piss me off until the end of time. WHY DIDN'T I CATCH IT! GAAAAH! Anyway...) I acted like the fic was all complete and stuff but trust me it isn't! XD! Most of the chapters have at least some to them but trust me, we'll be here for a while. BTW if you send me a message or whatever cuz I sent you one first I may take a while to reply. I'm not great about regularly checking my e-mail. But I'll get around to it. LoL!
So away we goooooooo...
- The Evil Duck
The Child of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
-Part 2-
Magic
August 1975
It cooled down a bit in August, just after the Dog Days, and the rain did the rest. Since July, Sirius Black became not so much a permanent fixture as an every day occurrence. Or maybe not even that. There was never any guarantee, no warning either, he'd just kind of show up, usually pretty sporadically. These bizarre appearances usually came late in the afternoon, just after tea when I was alone in the garage. Azure's prediction never came true, Sirius and I remained friends and nothing else. I thought I figured a lot out about Sirius. He seemed pretty straight forward: rich, which didn't make sense coming off of Grimmauld, loud, rebellious, and completely off his rocker. I just didn't realize what "off his rocker" really meant.
I never questioned normalcy or reality until late in August. Things just were. Basically if it existed it could happen, it was whatever it was, and it was real. Things that aren't real, things that can't be, and can't happen, aren't and don't. Period. Makes sense doesn't it? I learned otherwise. The world is a very weird place. Heaven help me to understand everything that's going on.
Anyway my perspective, I suppose that's what I'll call it, changed about two weeks before the end of August. Sirius told me his school started early, September first to be exact. As that day got nearer he became moodier, withdrawn, and he would frequently start to say, "I've got to tell you something--" but then cut out just before getting to the important bit. The day he finished that sentence, it was cool, and dark as night, and pouring something awful. Thunder, lightning, the whole biblical thing. As usual Sirius turned up in late afternoon, around four o'clock actually, while I was working on a 1972 Aston Martin DBS.
That was the last year they were made. Beautiful, sleek, they look just like spy cars (of course that is what James Bond uses in the movies, at least in the one I saw, "On her Majesty's Secret Service"). 4.0 L DOHC I6 engine, improved design from the DB6, much more modern look, 2 door coupe, four seater, front engine (much safer than my Kombi), but it was replaced by the Vantage, and what I wouldn't give to work on one of those babies. But that's not really important to the story.
I had my head under the bonnet when Sirius came in, without a coat, umbrella, or anything else to keep himself dry, "Hey Am," he said. He'd taken to calling me that and at first I protested but it wasn't going to stop him. I've never been one for nicknames.
"Hello Sirius," I said looking up. He was so soaked it looked like he'd been swimming. Sirius shook his head and shoulders like a dog, splattering everything with water. "Why don't you just wear a coat?" I asked, he'd gotten the DBS wet, which is a crime against humanity.
"Haven't got one," he said in what seemed like all honesty, although I don't think Sirius actually has 'all honesty', "I've got to tell you something and this time I'm going to do it." He wasn't smiling or anything and his eyes settled to a dark gray like the sky outside.
"Shoot," I said. There was a square bulge in one of his front pockets, a pack of cigarettes which he reached for before realizing he was not allowed to smoke in the garage.
"Mind if I bend the rules just this once?" he asked, "I have to settle my head." I shook my head. Sirius has the most posh accent I've ever heard, there's something almost ancient about it. King Richard III may have had the same accent.
"Fine," he sighed deeply. He paced a little back and forth. It was few minutes before he spoke again. He licked his lips, "do you believe in magic, Am?"
It took a few moments for me to understand what he was saying. No logical, intelligent teenager should have any doubt about the answer. Magic is one of those things we leave behind in childhood, "no, of course not."
He fidgeted slightly and his face fell. He looked really upset. I couldn't figure out why, I mean to me 'magic' has always been a game. Father Christmas is magic, unicorns and goblins are magic, they aren't real. 'Magic' has always felt like such a childish word, something to outgrow.
But because of the look on his face I felt like I should somehow qualify it, or explain myself, "I believe in impossible things happening, miracles, sort of divine intervention, but I mean that's rare. And I obviously don't believe in monsters, or banshees, or ghosts, or witches or anything like that," I thought this seemed valid. I mean, I thought, there comes a time when you can safely leave that world behind. I was old enough, and so was he, to know the truth about the world. As a kid, babies come from a magic place, bank ATMs are magic, even the revving of a car engine starting up is magic. Anything too complex or perverse for little kids is 'magic,' but when you hit a certain age you learn the truth. Magic is demeaning and condescending.
"That's interesting," said Sirius brow furrowed as if he was thinking hard, he reached into his pocket but retracted his hand quickly. "I wonder how much that's got to do with everything."
"What?" I asked.
"Belief," he muttered, "I was just thinking, what if all everything came down to in this world is what we believe in? Like what if the Big Bloke upstairs only grants you favors if you believe he exists, or if you can only do magic if you believe in it. You know, how much of who we are or what we are depends on what we think. Just thinking," he shrugged.
"What is this all about?" I asked, I could tell he had something on his mind. His eyes had been tracing the bulky frame of my Kombi and he looked back at me with heavy eyes. It's hard to explain just what that means, but his eyes can suck the thoughts and breath right out of you. "I mean magicians don't actually believe in magic when they're doing it."
My uncle has always been a good magician. He showed me how to do coin tricks and card tricks and things from when I was very small. When I asked him how magic worked he said in that strong gruff voice he and my dad share, "the hand is quicker than the eye but the magician's tongue has to be even quicker." That has always brought the image of a hawker to mind, a salesman making a profit off the small and easily entertained.
"I'm not talking about magicians," he said almost exasperatedly, "I'm talking about real magic." Thunder shook around us and he glanced up at the door to our flat. "I really need to tell you something and before I do you have to promise me one thing." His voice was low, quiet, scary, and totally serious, his eyes were burning into mine.
"Okay, what?"
"You'll let me finish," he said, "I'm a wizard, Am."
I started to laugh as I closed the bonnet of the Aston Martin. It was so ridiculous. I thought maybe it was a joke. He had acted like he had something really important to tell me but there wasn't really anything at all. I looked back into his face, back into those eyes, and I forgot what I was laughing about. "You're not serious are you?"
"That's what it says on my birth certificate," he smirked, but only momentarily, " I am a wizard but it's not what you--"
"Are you saying you're a Satanist or something?" That was my first impulse and I couldn't hold it back, "some weird heathen-animal-sacrificing-pagan-druid thing?"
"You said you'd let me finish, so let me finish. It's not what you think, and this probably isn't going to make any sense if I just tell you, but," he laughed, "I do like that look on your face. You're probably about to burn me at the stake aren't you?" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a foot long stick, it was made of a whitish wood that sparkled as if it had a finish on it.
"Don't tell me that's your wand," I said before I could stop myself.
"That's exactly what it is, yeah, 12 inches, dogwood and dragon heart string," he said nonchalantly. I had no idea what to do, suddenly Sirius was a raving loony, a complete psychopath, maybe not dangerous but I was still tempted to call the police.
"What heart string?" I asked. I remember thinking there's a phone in the office would he jump on me if I ran to get it? Would he pull out a gun? A knife? I know he's got a funny silver knife.
"Listen," he continued, "calm down, it's really hard to prove this to you unless I can show you," he looked down at the wand, "Ministry's going to be after me, but, well, considering all this Voldemort stuff... I'm probably safe. Bugger all, not like it matters anyway," he was thinking out loud. He raised his wand and said something in a funny language and something shot out the tip.
I'm not a big fan of the supernatural, of any unexplained phenomenon. I believe in what I can see, touch, taste, and smell, and what I know is true. I didn't believe there was much else to this world aside from the physical (there is a whole afterlife for the spiritual, after all). But this was real. This happened. I could see this flash of purple and black light, like discolored sunbeams, only smoky. The black made a thin black leather cord that wound around itself, forming a foot and a couple inches long hoop. The purple light condensed into a circle with a round hole near the top. The leather cord wrapped itself around the opened bit so it made a necklace. It eased down towards me, the purple thing cooling down into an amethyst. I couldn't speak.
"Like I said, it'll all be much easier to explain now. But besides that I'd noticed you don't have any amethysts, which is a shame, because purple really is your color," he said as if nothing at all had happened. How could this necklace be mundane to him? How could this even be happening? The laws of physics that I had just spent all year learning shattered around me. I reached out and took the necklace from where it was waiting for me, suspended at eye level. The jewel was still warm.
"This is like a dream," I whispered. That's the only way all this could have made sense. In a dream even the weirdest things make sense. But at the same time I knew it was happening. He was still talking and he seemed like he had been for a while when I looked up at him.
"So that's that. I figured I should tell you because I'm going back to school, Hogwarts, wizard school, in two weeks and-"
"They teach this?" I think I said although I could hardly hear it.
"Yeah they teach all sorts of stuff. Magical education. I wanted to be able to keep in touch with you at school and-"
"This is real?"
"Yeah. So I want to keep in touch with you while I'm at school and-"
"Is everyone like this?"
"Not everyone, only some people," he sighed, "I forgot that this is new to you. I mean, it's so ordinary."
"Ordinary? You just made a necklace out of nothing!"
"Right, but I've been able to do that since I was eleven. My whole family is wizarding. My mum's a witch, my brother's a wizard, my dad was a wizard, my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, everyone going back into the middle ages."
"They could all do things like this? And there are other families too? Do you-do you-turn people into toads?" that was the first thing I could remember witches doing.
He shrugged, "Loads of people are wizards, not just families. Some wizards and witches come out of Mug--non-magical households and some Squi--non-magical people come from wizarding households. And if I really wanted to turn someone into a toad I could learn how. But I can fly a broomstick."
"You can fly a what?" Everything was spinning. It didn't make any sense to me. It couldn't make sense to him.
"Broomstick. I'm going to finish this sentence all right, I want to keep in touch with you when I go back to school and wizards don't send letters the same way as Muggles."
"As what?" feeling was starting to come back into me.
"Muggles. Right, you don't know that one either. Muggles are people like you, non-magical people. I guess I'll explain how mail works in your letter when I send one." He nodded to himself.
"Are you...human?" I asked, anything was possible, nature no longer applied. I felt like I was three years old again asking my uncle how magic worked.
He laughed, "of course I'm human! Hell, I guess if you didn't even know about...I've probably just done something stupid, haven't I?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know," I said, "still trying to let it sink in."
"No problem, let's see," his eyes were brighter again, which was good, he looked up at the ceiling and pointed at the overhanging light, "ah, yeah, electricity, haven't got it."
"Haven't got, what?" I looked up at the light because I was sure I missed something.
"Electricity, we use candles, magic, and fires. We don't really need it," he shrugged, "same thing for paper money." He took a silver coin and flipped it to me, I caught it numbly as a reflex and looked down at it. It had funny symbols and things carved into it, but no currency numbers or anything. The only word written in English letters was "Gringotts"
"Gringotts is the wizarding bank," he went on as if all of this was totally normal, "that's a Sickle. Seventeen sickles to a Galleon and twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle. Pounds and pence are more easily converted I suppose."
"There's a special bank?"
"Yeah, special government too, the Ministry of Magic, headed by the Minister of
Magic--"
"Hang on, you're a citizen of the UK, Lord Wilson of Rievaulx, Harold Wilson, he's prime minister--" it felt so stupid, I mean wouldn't I know if there was a whole 'nother government inside our own country? It all felt like a very surreal practical joke, even though I knew it wasn't.
"Oh no he's not," said Sirius, "he works with our Minister but ours is--"
"Wait," I stopped him again, "you mean the government knows it's real?"
"Yeah, I reckon so. But there has to be two separate ones, because the last time muggles and wizards tried to publicly coexist there was a lot of burning at the stake and killing curses involved so we just keep low profiles. Well," he smiled, "most of us. So the Minister of Magic is Regis Shaw. I have a question."
I wanted to say I have several hundred but I nodded for him to go on.
"What's with all that 'lord' and 'sir' and 'queen' nonsense?"
"Wait, you aren't even under the monarchy?" I asked.
"Neither are you really," he pointed out, "she doesn't do much does she? No royal terms or anything like that in the wizarding world. Just old blood lines."
"Is yours old? Most families aren't that old right?"
"No they aren't, mine's very old, most families aren't so...exclusive either... there's so much to tell you, isn't there?"
I nodded weakly.
"Let's see, well the ministry is divided into departments, I dunno anything about the Muggle government so you can tell me if it's the same."
"It is," I said and I felt like maybe I'd finally be able to understand.
"Magical Law Enforcement, loads of subcategories there, like who controls the aurors and stuff like that. An auror's a law enforcer, like a...fuck...er.. policeman only with a wand instead of a..what do you call it, again?" He put up his thumb and extended his pointer, "you know what I mean."
"A gun?"
"Yeah, that's it, a gun, thanks. Right, Magical Games and Sports, International Magical Cooperation he ticked them off on his fingers. Then he caught sight of his watch, his eyes got very big and dark, "shit," he muttered. "Okay, really quickly, not all wizards are good, just like how not all muggles are good. The wizarding government is corrupt as hell. The rich own it. My family owns it. My family, aside from me, are a bunch of inbred bigots who hate people who aren't purebloods, of wizarding decent going back at least four generations, I'm not like them, most wizards aren't, most wizards have at least some Muggle blood in them somewhere, I'd tell you more but I have to run because otherwise my mother will kill me." He said all this very , very quickly.
"Wait," I said, but he was gone. I wondered if it was magic. I was totally dumbstruck. And as I walked upstairs, I finally understand the full meaning of that word. I can't exactly explain it to you, but it feels like someone just pressed the mute button in your life and paused it. Then everything starts up again and there you are, ears ringing, eyes wide, completely at a loss for what just happened. I don't remember when I put the necklace on but it must have been while I was walking upstairs while I pocketed the coin. The necklace was just like any other now. I haven't really taken it off.
Azure was sitting at the kitchen table talking to his friend, Alexander, who I think may be something more, when I came upstairs from the garage.
Azure jumped back then looked relieved when he saw it was me. He arched an eyebrow, "you okay?" he asked.
"What?"
"You look terrible, like you've heard a banshee or something."
"Do you believe in magic, Azure?" I asked him honestly.
He snorted. "What kind of a question is that? No, why, do you?"
"Yeah," I fiddled with the leather strap. The world was suddenly a very different and much, much more interesting place, "I do."
A/N: Hokay, another chapter under the belt. Now for the specialized Authors notes:
Don't worry I have no idea what any of the car stuff means anyway, god bless the internet! LoL XD!
Oh boy, Amethyst's rant about Paganism isn't going to win me any friends is it? Look, it's first person, her perspective. I don't actually believe that! I'm a non practicing Wiccan myself. I was practicing for about three years, but the point is I'm not saying that Pagans are bad. I know what Pagan means and everything (not "godless" like so many want to believe it means "nature worshiper"), I know that Easter is a holy Pagan celebration, I celebrate every equinox and Solstice so do NOT call me an Inquisitor, or a close minded...whatever. Call Amethyst and Sirius (you'll see) closed minded. Not me. XP!
Some random terms are British-English. In America we say 'hood' (as in the engine is under the hood' in England they say 'bonnet', in the US we say 'trunk' (still talking about cars) in England it's a 'boot'. Sirius will probably use a lot more slang, like "bollocks" and stuff, so I'll define that later.
I own that necklace. I'm wearing it right now. :) (except mine has a little silver bead above the amethyst, give it to her too if you want.)
There's a small change in fic scheduling. The next chapter was originally "Letters From Hogwarts" I'm taking that out and flashing forward into the school year a bit, to a Sirius first person. Basically Sirius slowly but surely falling in love/lust/something/starting their relationship. That way Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs can finally come in. Just remember, this is NOT about their fifth year so I'm not going to go into the whole transforming into Animagi thing. Not now at least. Maybe in another fic. I've got loads of ideas. I'm thinking of doing a kinda Tonks/Lupin thing inspired by some piece of fan art on the fan art 100. Angst stuff to (really) come in the chapter after next, actually the first chapter I thought of. "Brothers in Blood" oh it'll be great. But the next chapter? Sirius ranting? Sirius's emotions? OMFG YEEEEEEEEEEES! Hopefully it won't take as long! LOL!
