Magnus's evening had gone progressively downhill after he was woken from his beauty sleep by Chairman Meow, and so he set it about himself to get his chores done.
He had cleaned his apartment, washed his clothes, cleaned the cat's litter tray and restocked the fridge all in the matter of a few minutes of finger clicking.
It was pretty tough work for one's thumb, being a warlock.
After a heated, soapy shower and some re-application of various colors of glitter to his spiked hair, Magnus was ready to do one of his tedious tasks that couldn't be achieved with a simple snap.
He grabbed one of his more formal cloaks, cape and all, and began the walk to the small brownstone building in Park Slope that probably contained the most interesting aspects of Brooklyn right there under it's eaves.
What with Jocelyn's apartment and Dorothea's portal, Magnus spent almost more time there than he did at the spa.
In other words, too much of his time.
He would just have to be careful to not bump into Jocelyn while visiting Dorothea tonight, as he could guess she wouldn't take lightly to the fact he'd lied to her and not answered her calls.
When he finally stood in front of the building, he quickly checked his self-protection and illusion spells and was satisfied that he was still indeed one hundred percent glamour-ous. Laughing at his little joke, he pressed the caller button next to Dorothea's name.
She buzzed him in without checking to see who it was first.
Magnus frowned, that was just a little dangerous, didn't she think?
He made up his mind to talk to her about it once inside.
The old lady smiled wildly at him as he entered and grasped him into a tight hug.
"Magnus, dear! It's been a while since your last visit. Do you need another Warlock's Weekly Spellbook? This month's edition hasn't arrived yet, I'm afraid. You'll have to come again next week." She smiled fondly at him and patted his cheek.
"You're such a good boy, Magnus. I wish all warlocks would behave like you do towards an old lady like me."
He laughed. "Dorothea, you're crazy. Me? Good? I don't think I've ever heard those two words in the same sentence before, unless the words 'bed' and 'in' are involved."
The old prophetess was far beyond noticing innuendoes.
"Tea, dear? Or, oh! I've got this new one- just came in from Cambodia! Supposed to be a faerie blend." Magnus politely refused the offer- last time he'd accepted a 'new drink' from Dorothea he had grown a tail. Took him a good two weeks to locate a spell to reverse the effects, and his reputation could simply not withstand that bad an impalement again- and took a seat at Dorothea's card table.
"I think you know why I'm here, Dorothea."
She nervously started to play with the costume jewellery rings on her thumbs.
"Magnus... I don't know if you should continue to ignore Jocelyn in this way. She is an extremely powerful Shadowhunter; after all... we wouldn't want you getting yourself in trouble with the Clave. You're a good High Warlock."
Magnus sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I know that, but that god-awful daughter of hers is just getting harder and harder to enchant, I don't know how long the next session will last, or whether it will do any good on her at all, and I just can't afford to pay Jocelyn insurance if something goes wrong."
"So tell her that you're done. Tell her to go somewhere else. And Clarissa is quite the lovely young lady, I can assure you. Just last week she helped me move that horrid couch from upstairs..."
"Dorothea, I could have helped with that in but a snap. Besides, who else can she go to? What other warlock is capable- let alone willing enough- to perform this complex a spell? I'm the only warlock with a certificate within the state, and she can't just take her daughter on a wild goose chase with the chance she might see something."
Magnus hung his head in his hands. This job could be quite the challenge.
Dorothea was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke.
"Well, then, Magnus, I don't believe there is anything I can offer you, not advice nor help will solve your problem. It was nice seeing you but I really must get back to my work." He sighed again and thanked her for her time, grabbing his cloak on his way out. He stopped at the door, however, and turned back to the old lady. In an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice, Magnus told her something that he thought she needed to hear from him.
"Really, Dorothea. Thank you. You've been like a mother to me, and I know I don't treat you well enough."
She looked flustered for a minute, then blushed in pleasure and pushed him out. "Goodnight, dear."
Magnus suddenly remembered his earlier decision.
"Oh yeah, one more thing. You really should stop to see who is at your door before you buzz them in, I don't want you to get yourself killed, you silly old bat."
She flicked her hand at him. "Go on, now! Time for you to get out before I regret my earlier praise for your behavior."
Magnus walked to the door that leads to the hallway and opened it wide, stepping out to the sight of two mundanes rushing down the stairs.
One was tall, lanky and dark-haired with glasses and an irritating t-shirt that quoted some geeky game.
The other startled him, she looked so much like Jocelyn herself.
But this was a younger Jocelyn, he realized.
She was bouncy and small and fragile-looking still.
But her flaming red hair and green eyes gave her away. This was Clarissa, Jocelyn's daughter.
She surprised him yet again by looking right at him, and the expression on her face indicated that she fully recognized his alien looks, flash clothes and hair, cat-eyes, and she could tell he wasn't human.
Well, not totally human anyway.
He threw a dazzling smile at her, and watched the horror on her face intensify.
By the Angel, he thought to himself. Jocelyn was right. This girl is in dangerously close proximity to breaking the walls guarding the glamours of the hidden worlds she truly belongs in.
He quickly threw up a spell of invisibility around himself and saw her confusion as she said something to the boy and they left.
There was shouting coming from Jocelyn's apartment and Magnus heard his name along with a string of profanities, and hastily retreated to the cool streets of Brooklyn, heading home after a strange yet eventful night.