The Theory of Magic (Book 1)

11 // Toadstools & False Friends

For all these reasons, Fi had never picked up modern witchery with any success. Her coven had shunned wands far before Fi's birth, back when Morgana was still proving herself an absolute pain in Merlin's arse. Fi had studied the current spells, of course, and understood the application, but much like a first-year, she couldn't quite master the proper gestures. Her Will conflicted with the wand, like two hammers both going after the same nail, slamming their heads together and missing the nail entirely. She couldn't say where the mushrooms were coming form, though. Seemed an odd choice on the wand's part.

Fi gathered her thoughts and shuffled them off behind the iron walls of her Occlumency. Passive, she gave her wand a gentle flick and muttered, "Lumos."

Light blinked to life at the wand's tip—then sputtered out. Fi sighed.

"Better," Ever said, voice approving. "Though I do not know why you simply don't Transfigure a bit of wood to resemble a wand and flick it about while you use your magic normally."

They had discussed the possibility, but Fi had discarded the idea. "Any members of the faculty would recognize that the motions of the wand and my magic didn't align. In truth, I believe it would only deepen suspicions, so I'd rather learn a few paltry spells with a true wand and otherwise forego magic in their presence all together. It would be better for my anonymity if they simply think me little better than a Squib."

"The daughter of Melisande Dullahan a Squib? The nerve—!"

A rapping at the window paused Ever's tirade and Fi looked about, spotting a scruffy barn owl on the sill thwacking his beak against the panes. She banished the glass, allowing the bird to flutter in and drop before her, leg extended in invitation to remove the scroll attached there. Fi did so. The owl flew over to Puck's perch, looking for a drink, and Fi gave her Augurey a stern word to behave himself. Puck glared at the brown fluffball and apparently decided he rather swoop out the open window than watch another bird sip from his water dish.

Smirking, Fi read the letter.

Delphinia,

If you have the time this evening, I will be at the Hog's Head Inn in the village tonight and would very much like to discuss new information about your friends that has come to light. I hope to see you there.

Yours,

G. Todorov.

Her finger traced the word friends as Fi considered Grigor's missive. He meant the Masked Ones. The vampire had mentioned he would poke about in search of information, but Fi hadn't expected any actual results. She rose, tucking the letter out of sight, and considered the hour. Students milled about the grounds outside the window, but the slower black dots were beginning to hasten their stride toward the castle doors. Curfew was a few hours off, but it was an easy thing to miss if one wasn't paying attention.

Fi returned to her desk and the task of reading through assignments, though her thoughts strayed from her work to what Grigor could have unearthed. She waited for dark to settle in well and proper before she tossed a cloak over her shoulders and set out for the staffroom. Fi knew the Floo Network there was connected to Hogsmeade to help the professors manage and protect the older students who frequented the village later in the term. She took a pinch of Floo Powder, tossed it into the flame, and said, "Hog's Head Inn."

The flames wavered in green hues. Satisfied, the hedge witch stepped through the hearth—swallowing a mouthful of ash—and arrived coughing on the other side.

Fi squinted her eyes against the dark to see the dim interior of a grubby tavern. It only took a moment for her to see why Grigor had chosen this locale: it was, without a doubt, a seedy place with less than utterly reputable clientele. The few people inside sat slumped under their hoods and threw suspicious glances toward Fi as she stepped forward from the fire. The bartender was a whip-thin fellow with a mass of long, stringy gray hair and grumpy eyes. He stared at Fi with his lips pursed.