What magic is for
The most important thing about magic is to know when not to use it.
– Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men
As days passed, Severus could finally get out of bed and walk about the Shack, even though this still tired him greatly. Soon the wound had healed enough and no longer required a bandage. The scar was ugly: swollen, purple-red ridges that spread across his throat, as he observed in a mirror that Morag had provided when he needed to shave. She rubbed salve onto it every day, which soothed the dull, hot throbbing.
The young witch regularly left the Shack. "Home visits", she would invariably say before walking out. She would come back with bread, eggs, vegetables, and occasionally fowl or fish that she would cook for them.
Severus was quite perplexed to see that she did the whole cooking from scratch, never attempting to speed things up with magic. When he expressed his puzzlement, she scowled.
"D'ye think magic exists jist fer oor convenience? Magic demands respect, it isnae a mere tool. Once ye get lazy enough tae use it tae do all yer chores fer ye, ye're on a slippery slope. Physical tasks are guid fer the soul, anyway."
She never used a wand, and Severus came to the conclusion that she simply did not possess one. If the way she took his pain away was anything to go by, she seemed to be able to channel her magic through her hands in an extremely efficient way. Of course, wandless magic was practiced by some witches and wizards, but it was reputedly difficult. Severus, though rather impressed, did not voice his appraisal.
He had taken to watching her prepare her remedies. She was methodical and conscientious, and she demonstrated a thorough knowledge of plants, herbs and fungi. Whenever she seemed in doubt about anything, she leafed through a thick, battered leather-bound book. Many pages bore hand-drawn, beautifully detailed illustrations of plants and fungi.
"Were does your book come from? It seems very ancient." He enquired one morning.
"It gets passed doon frae mither tae dochter, and we add whatever new knowledge we glean. It's enchanted so new blank pages appear at will, which is why it's so thick," she explained.
She returned to her work, frowning and muttering to herself.
"What is the matter?"
"A'm trying a new remedy. Some bairns up in the hills have a bad case of measles. I need tae work oot a preventive potion so those who are nae sick dinnae catch it."
"That sounds interesting", he said earnestly. "May I work with you? I have a few ideas of how you could make it work."
"Fine," she replied.
Thinking their way through the complexities of a new remedy proved a welcome distraction from his dark memories, and Severus immersed himself in the task. They spent the best part of the morning mincing various herbs and fungi.
As he was adding powered tormentil to his mixture, she squeezed past him to retrieve a small pestle across the table. For just a few seconds, her body was pressed against his, and he suddenly felt his insides lurch.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake", he growled between gritted teeth.
"Sairy, pal, A'm not used tae working with someone under ma feet", she quipped.
"Can you address me by my name, at least? " He snapped, aggrieved to feel his heart thumping in his chest.
"Aye, I can do that, but ye'll have tae stop snarling at me. I reckon ye need bringing down a peg or two." She gave his chest a light, almost playful shove. Although he was much taller than her, she never seemed intimidated in the least, and was now staring at him unblinkingly. He glared back.
"Och, having a staring contest noo, are we? Ye dinnae scare me with them angry eyes, ye ken."
Severus shrugged and pulled away from her, scowling. He tried not to dwell on how beautiful her red curls looked, how warm her velvety brown eyes, and how much he had wanted to bridge the gap between them and feel her body's warmth against his again. Merlin's beard, had that accursed injury deprived him of all temperance?
Trying to distract himself from those unwelcome thoughts, he asked "Aren't measles more common in Muggles?"
"That'd be because the bairns are Muggles, as ye call them", she replied, somewhat curtly.
He stared at her in disbelief. "You've been healing Muggles with magic? What about the International Statute of Secrecy?"
"If I chance upon some folk that are ailing, A'll damn weel heal them, whoe'er they are, and them at the Ministry can shove their Statute of Secrecy up where the sun dinnae shine. Heal them that need healing and dinnae ask nae questions, that's the oath I took! Helping them that need us, isn't that the only proper reason for magic in the firs' place?"
"Even Muggles?" he asked, still skeptical.
"Aye, especially them" she asserted, "and would ye just stop calling them that?"
"What else would you call people who don't possess any magic?"
"Pish! Shows how much ye ken. Ye wand-waving lot, ye think ye're so much smarter than everyone else. Ye dinnae ken every living soul has magic in their bones, tae various degrees."
"Oh, that's nonsense, Morag. We have way to detect magic even in small children, which is how we are able to find Muggle-born witches and wizards so they can attend school and get properly trained – "
" – yer Ministry has set up traces on minors that detect a minimal amount of magic. If a bairn hasnae got enough magic, ye lot deem her nae worth training. I bet no one e'er told ye that over yer long wizarding career?"
"But even I what you claim is true, surely a child with an insufficient amount of magic will not be able to achieve much, will they?"
"And so they're jes' Muggles tae ye lot, and nae wirth yer time or respect, are they?"
"I never said –"
"Ye still think ye're better than them, dinnae tell me it isnae the truth!" she blurted out. "And then before long ye draw other lines, and wizards and witches from so-called Muggle families are wirth less than the rest of ye? And next thing ye ken, some evil scum like yer Dark Lord takes over and only so-called Purebloods deserve tae live? Eh?"
"Look here –"
"Dinnae give me any 'look here', I saw that blasted mark on yer arm," she shouted, clenching her fists. "Means there wis a time ye was in agreement with all that tosh! Drawing lines an' separating people, Wizards an' Muggles, Purebloods an' Mudbloods, insiders an' outsiders, an' that destroys people!" Her whole body was shaking.
"I know that," he admitted dejectedly. "I know only too well."
All anger left Morag's face. "Aye, I ken," she said, her voice calmer. "I got carried away, I shouldnae pass judgment on ye like that. A'm sairy, Severus."
Glossary
A'm – I'm
bairn – child
cannae/dinnae/hasnae/isnae/shouldnae/willnae… – can't/ don't/hasn't/isn't/shouldn't/won't…
dochter – daughter
doon – down
doot – doubt
e'er – ever
frae – from
gaun – gone
guid – good
hou – how
guid – good
intae – into
ken – know
ma - my
Mam – Mum, Mom
mebbe – maybe
mither – mother
naw – no
nae – not, no
noo – now
oor – our
oot – out
pish – piss, nonsense
sairy – sorry
tae – to
weel – well
wirth – worth
ye, yer, yers – you, your, yours