Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Van Gogh

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

December, 1977.

Saturday afternoon, and I linger in the Great Hall. The usual lunch rush over, the crowd having come and gone, the hall is now nearly empty save for some stragglers and latecomers dotting the four long tables. As for me, I now have the space around me completely to myself.

My Herbology notebook open in front of me, I reach over for the cup of tea I've been nursing as I sketch. Open alongside my sketchbook, the book Reggie had gifted me by the lake. Having already read it cover to cover more times than I could count, I've taken to copying illustrations out of it in my free time.

I love the book. A simple token, but incredibly special to me. So special, in fact, that whenever possible, I carry it around with me in my bag.

Wherever I go, this book goes too.

... And why?

Because by doing so, I'm giving a secret nod to my relationship with Reggie.

Carries me through the days spent apart, until we're reunited under the cover of darkness.

Earlier this week when we met, I showed Reggie some of the drawings I'd been working on. Leaning forward in my seat at the table now, I smile at the memory of him studying my sketchbook: the way his lips formed a handsome, delicate smile as he carefully flipped through the pages. The way his fingertips lightly traced at the outlines of my drawings, sometimes made from ink, sometimes from simple pencil.

... He'd actually picked up a pencil of mine, holding it reverently in his hand as though it were some sort of sacred object ...

"Muggle tools," he muses softly as he stares down at the pencil cradled delicately in his palm, "... And this one - shockingly elegant in its simplicity ..."

"Some may call it crude -"

"I would have been some. Once, yes. Though now ..."

Pausing, I watch as he attempts to hold it correctly in his hands, "... This tool is deceptively difficult to manipulate without the use of magic."

"Muggle children spend years of their early education mastering proper grip and penmanship."

"The basics are the same as the quill."

"Of course. But you'll find manual use of a pen, pencil, or quill quite different."

"There's certainly something to be said about skillful muggle craftsmanship. About the beauty of such a simple object that can be used to create such untold wonders."

"... Perhaps ... perhaps you would like to try writing or drawing with it?"

Together we stand side by side in front of a desk, my sketchbook open before us.

"I've never ... I mean - muggle tools. Muggle tools! If my mother or father ever knew ..."

I can imagine.

... But instead of saying as much I bring my hand upwards to meet his.

Electricity, as always, when our hands meet.

Slowly, I correct his grip for him, and in doing so demonstrate how to properly hold it. Then I guide his hand back down to the page.

"Start simple, if you like, yes? A line, a circle. Squiggles even. With time, with practice, mastery comes - just like anything else in this world."