Darkness is your candle.
Your boundaries are your quest.
‘Oh…’ George looked disappointed. Cybele felt guilty.
‘I don’t think he realized it was Hogsmeade, you see.’
By the beginning of the summer, Professor Snape and Cybele had completed their main readings and decided on a one day meeting to organize and sum up all the knowledge they had gathered before and after Cybele’s accident. It was unfortunately on the last Hogsmeade weekend of the term.
‘You bet he did,’ mumbled Fred. Cybele chose to pretend she didn’t hear.
‘I’m sorry guys, I’ll see you in the evening, hopefully.’
‘Right! Actually, we want you to see Hermione.’
‘Hermione? Sure; why?’
‘Well,’ started Fred, ‘we were wondering-’
‘-if she could see your watch,’ George finished.
‘Oh.’ Cybele had not expected that. Of course she knew the twins’ friend was a brilliant student, the best in her year, but…
‘Dumbledore did, and he couldn’t figure out much,’ she reminded them simply.
‘And so did Snape,’ George said. ‘But you want to show it to all best brains around, right?’
‘I guess it couldn’t hurt, but how much would she need to know about me?’
‘Nothing, just say it’s a family heirloom. I mean-’
‘- it’s probably true,’ Fred finished for his brother.
‘All right then, I’ll come and see you after my meeting.’
*-*-*-*-*
As most Hogwarts students were making their way to Hogsmeade, Cybele was making a large board float at one end of Professor Snape’s office. They soon began organising their information on it. The left section of a table summarized what they knew about Magi; the Muggle definitions, the wizarding definitions and the parallel legends. The right side was comprised of two rows which they had named The Magi Bound: one for what Cybele had experienced and one for their research.
By midday, the board was covered in the major points they had magically written while peering into the documentation which was now covering the Potions Master’s desk. Cybele didn’t seem to realize she was making her Professor’s thoughts appear on the board before he spoke them out loud. She didn’t even realize that she was reading his mind, focused as she was on listening to his ideas and compiling hers at the same time.
Strangely, Snape was yet to react to Cybele’s unintended intrusion.
They had come to this level where perfect understanding of each other was difficult to distinguish from mind reading. With anybody else, Snape would have felt endangered and vulnerable to not be able to use Occlumency; but then again, this was Cybele. Maybe it had started then back in Dumbledore’s office four years ago, maybe it had made its way slowly along the years, but it was there and Snape had to live with it: He trusted Cybele. Maybe because he didn’t have a choice: there was no protecting oneself from Cybele’s powers. So he had come to trust her beyond reason and he cared for her as family even if he couldn’t afford to. He was not in denial. He had tried to fight it back but he knew it was a lost battle and he sometimes felt relieved to know it was.
In the most challenging years of his life, with Lily’s son in his care and the seemingly ineluctable return of the Dark Lord over their head, Cybele had been his unintended anchor.
‘Lunch?’ he said simply after a while.
‘What? Weren’t you just saying something about Ahuramazda?’
‘I was not saying anything, no, but I just saw his name here,’ he gestured to a Muggle photocopy with a ghost of a tired smile.
Cybele looked up and understanding drew on her. She blushed.
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Then she looked even more embarrassed. ‘How long have I been doing that?’ she asked, referring to the involuntary mind reading.
As an answer, he simply gestured to the board. Cybele looked horrified when she understood that all the time she had “heard” her professor’s idea, she had in fact unintentionally been hearing his mind. Snape didn’t elaborate.
‘Eslis!’
The Elf appeared in the second.
‘It’s ready, Sir.’
They went up to Professor Snape’s apartments to have a quick lunch and break.
When they came back down, Snape started to review their results.
‘In the Muggle world,’ he started, ‘your knowledge and powers are limitless, except -’
‘-Travelling in time, seeing the future, bringing back the dead, and summoning people,’ Cybele recited.
‘You have the same limitations in the wizarding world, which bring down to two the things that wizards can do and you can’t-’
‘-Time turners don’t work on me, as we tested back in my first year. I show no ability for reading future, actually, I don’t believe in it at all,’ confirmed Cybele.
‘In the wizarding world, however, as far as your abilities are not hindered, your knowledge can extend only to what you access and read or hear. Your powers cannot stop or defeat spells, even if they don’t have any effect on you. Magical objects and wizards tend to have a slight resistance to your intentions compared to non-magical object.’
‘I think that pretty much sums it up,’ Cybele said approvingly.
They had not come up with anything new in the course of the year about the magi bound and this remained preoccupying. Their knowledge on the Magi themselves, though, was now very extended. So extended, that it was becoming difficult to come up with any clear theory to embrace all this knowledge “ thus this meeting.
‘It is clear that magical History doesn’t go back so far and both wizarding and Muggle sources are vague and contradictory,’ Snape reminded. ‘But in both case, Magi are described to be the firsts, to be the very source or creators of Magic. The Tales of the Wandering Wand may be the sole wizarding text to mention them as the Magic itself, but Muggle sources present them as Magic teachers, or of the sort, often.’
‘Yes, what is strange is that Muggle sources regularly mention that Magi were reading stars and predicting the future, which is one thing I am unable to do. They mention alchemy too, but I can do things without the help of Potions, which have no effect on me.’
‘I think the key to understanding these contradictions is in the Muggle as well as wizarding sources. They both say that Magi were teachers. This is my theory,’ started Snape seriously. Cybele looked up sharply.
‘Magi were a most ancient breed of Magical being. In a way we cannot fully understand now, they were the Magic. They thought everybody should share their immense powers and they experimented on how to teach it and transmit it. They found that other humans did have Magic in them too, though much less. They started to identify people who had greater amount of it in them and figure out ways to help them channel it out of them to perform some of the powers which were so natural to them. Hence, they developed all witchcraft, such as wands, potions, spells, crystal balls. Hence, they created the wizards, a breed of humans who learnt the ability to channel out their magic, when they had enough of the good type of it.’
Snape stopped, looking slightly annoyed by his own theory. Cybele was in awe, fascinated by the simplicity with which the theory embraced all their acquired knowledge without leaving anything out.
‘Eslis mentioned something about Muggle Magic,’ she recalled.
‘Did he? Indeed, there are theories, that Magic is everywhere, the Wizarding one being the only one able to express itself through witchcraft, but the Muggle one also at work in different ways,’ he admitted, looking unconvinced.
‘That was when he said I was not magical, he said he could see magic and that Caroline one’s was mixed with Muggle magic. It is also true that some wizards have more magic in them than others, right?’
‘I think so, yes,’ Snape trailed.
Cybele didn’t insist. The theory seemed brilliant to her. But if these magi had created sorcerers and then disappeared over the century, forced to flew and separate under Muggle persecution for their “teaching” activities; how could she be?
‘So there must be a lost tribe of Magi somewhere, hiding, and I have lost myself from them,’ she concluded.
‘That would seem logical,’ first answered Snape. He looked preoccupied, though. ‘But I am not convinced by this explanation.’
‘Why?’
‘Wouldn’t you know it?’ he asked simply. ‘Wouldn’t they know it? How could you have found yourself separated, amnesiac and abandoned or forgotten by them all?’ he stated plainly, watching Cybele for reactions.
‘We have to look for them and we will know the answer,’ she offered. She looked thoughtful, though.
Snape let the silence lingered until Cybele would speak out.
‘It strikes me how the Muggle historians, like Herodotus of Halicarnassus, repeatedly linked Magian with human sacrifices, both in Greek and Persian sources,’ she eventually said, a note of fear in her voice. ‘Teaching of magic and magic-linked sacrificing,’ she added, ‘are the main activities described.’
‘Are you suggesting you could have escaped?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said very quietly. ‘What kinds of wizarding magic involve sacrifices?’
‘Dark magic,’ Snape answered without hesitation, ‘of the most powerful, most ancient and worst kind.
‘Can you give me examples?’
‘No,’ he answered quickly, ‘please be cautious not to read my mind by inadvertence,’ he added plainly. He could think of several examples. One was not dark magic, it was the sacrifice of love Dumbledore had discovered while studying Potter; another one was Horcruxes. And the Dark Lord had hinted he had discovered an ancient one enabling resurrection. He didn’t want Cybele to know of any of them and the only way he had to ensure so was to ask her not to. And he knew she would obey. ‘That’s how far I trust her,’ he realized. It was almost vertiginous.
‘I have another theory,’ he offered quickly. ‘Magi seemed to be a peaceful breed, eager to share their powers rather than abusing them “ a strange state of fact in itself. It would be easier to imagine early wizards, carrying the memory of these all-powerful Magi of the early time to work at an enchantment to create such limitless power for themselves. Magic at its darkest could very well,’ he trailed, and winced.
None of them elaborated on that last, frightening theory. Cybele was starting to understand that whatever she would find out to explain her Magian powers will likely be dark. She was determined nonetheless to uncover and confront the truth.
*-*-*-*-*
It was too late for dinner when Snape and his student parted, satisfied that they had successfully compiled and analyzed their data, even though their future course of action remained to be thought of.
Cybele decided to pass by the Great Hall to check if her friends were not waiting for her there. She peered through the door. The Hall was empty. Almost empty. She made out a lonely figure sitting down at the Slytherin table. She recognized the elegantly slender back of Draco Malfoy and his silky light blond hair. She felt a pang in the heart and closed back the door silently, her heart beating hard.
Why? she thought as she slowly made her way up to Gryffindor tower. Is it seeing him alone like that? What makes you think he was sad? Maybe he was just studying quietly.
Her heart had regained a normal pace of beating when she reached the Fat Lady, but she still felt troubled by the incident.
Fred, George, Lee, Caroline, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting by the fire on comfy armchairs and sofas. George swift to the sofa’s arm to let Cybele take his place near by Fred and started to stroke her hair gently as she leaned on him.
‘How was it?’ Lee asked.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Cybele answered, not elaborating in front of Ginny and Hermione.
‘So, this is your watch?’ the latest asked with interest, pointing at Cybele’s chest.
‘Oh, yeah, I’d be curious to know what you make of it,’ Cybele answered, pulling it of her neck.
Hermione took it eagerly, and then put it down on the coffee table.
‘It looks really ancient,’ she said, casting a silent spell at it. ‘Oh’, she exclaimed with great surprise, ‘my age-dating spell doesn’t work on it!’
She tried again, speaking out the spell loud this time.
‘Revelo Annea!’ she shouted with a quick spiralling movement of wand. Nothing happened.
‘What magical property does it have?’ she asked curiously.
‘Well, it’s really peculiar,’ Cybele advanced, feeling by the second that this was not a good idea. ‘It appears when it wants, first of all, around my neck, and it, well-’
‘It writes things at the back in Persian,’ Fred provided.
Cybele was uneasy. Next Hermione will ask what and then she will want to understand about magi and she will have to lie and Hermione was not exactly stupid. It was a bad idea.
‘What does it mean, “Arta Magus”?’ Hermione asked as on cue.
‘It means true magus, you know, the magus legend, like in the tale,’ Cybele answered as casually as she could.
‘Oh… you come from Lebanon, right?’ Hermione checked next.
‘Yes.’
Hermione was playing with the watch, looking for an opening. The watch suddenly burst open in two, a tiny scroll of paper rolling to Ginny’s feet.
Cybele didn’t realize immediately what it was. Hermione had quickly replaced the watch back on the table and was apologizing profusely, blushing.
Ginny picked up the paper and hold it out to Cybele without looking at it. Only when George reached for it instead of Cybele, did she realized what it was. She turned sharply to George who was about to hand it back to her when he seemed to accidentally catch a word on the paper. In a small move that looked like slow motion in Cybele’s eyes, he took a quick look at the text, swallowed hard and hand it over to Cybele without comment.
Fred sensed something was wrong with his brother and kindly suggested that Cybele must be very tired after her day of work with Snape. Ginny and Hermione looked horrified at the very thought of spending an entire day locked in the dungeons with Snape and the watch was quite forgotten.
George stood up to walk Cybele back to the Ravenclaw tower. They walked in silence for while. Cybele was thinking hard on what she would like to tell George. She had sincerely forgotten that she had this paper in her watch all this time, close to her heart, how weird must it have seemed! Why did she ever have to put it here? To even keep it at all? Why throwing it into the fire where it belonged didn’t even cross her mind back then?
But George didn’t ask her anything. As they reached the Ravenclaw tower, they lingered against the ancient wall as they often use to do for a small talk or a sweet goodnight kiss. George leaned onto her and played with the brass watch where Cybele had, quite unthoughtfully in her hurry to make the scroll disappear, replaced it earlier. He locked eyes with her.
‘This,’ he started slowly in a kind but saddened voice, jerking his chin to the brass watch, obviously referring to the note within I regret it. Love, Draco, ‘is problematic,’ he said simply.
Cybele opened her mouth to speak. Probably no sound would have come out of it anyway, but George tenderly put a finger on it. He gave her a weak smile.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that.’
‘I-’ Cybele didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell George she was so happy with him. She wanted to tell him he should not even think about Malfoy: that was all past. She wanted to tell him she loved him. But she couldn’t. Because she did, love him. But, after several months with him… They had been sweet, nice months; months in which she had pretended love could be this smooth and simple thing. But somewhere in the way, she had had to admit that if she did love George, she didn’t love him much differently from the way she loved Fred, Lee or Caroline.
‘It will always be here,’ George stated, releasing the brass watch.
Cybele knew he was not talking about the watch or even the scroll within. Draco and she had been on non-speaking term more than once in the past. But things were never really over. Was it because of this magi-bound? Magi. Cybele had thought the way she had reacted to Draco’s touch back at the Yule Ball may have been a Magian thing. But when Caroline had had girls’ chats about love with Cybele, she had used the very words Cybele had thought of back then. Daggers, waves, fire. What if? Whenever they were on friendly terms, the all school always referred to Draco and her as boyfriend and girlfriend. That never happened when she hung out with Neville or Lee. Was it that people could see something she couldn’t? What if?
Tired of the whirl of thought, she let her head rest on George’s chest. He closed his arms around her. None of them knew how long they stayed like that. There was not much to say after all. They both knew they were not each other’s right one. They were just two friends who had tasted something it would be very hard to let go of. They were two friends terrified of losing it all, for one innocent mistake.
‘We will be all right like that,’ George eventually said long later, pulling of gently.
‘Yes, I’m sure we will make it,’ Cybele answered with a weak smile.
‘And just so that you know; I will miss you, so much.’
‘I will too. Already am.’
‘But we will be just as happy,’
‘Yes, and one day we will be even happier, and then we will realize how right we were to be reasonable today,’ Cybele said in a self-convincing tone.
‘We’ll be happy and there will be no need to be sad or to feel awkward because we are these friends.’ Cybele nodded, feeling a lump forming in her throat. ‘Because we love each other,’ George concluded, managing a real smile.
‘Yes, we do,’ Cybele answered, her smile liberated too by the happy thought.
And so they separated quietly in the middle of the night in front of the Ravenclaw’s tower. For the second time since Christmas, Cybele cried herself to sleep.