The Keepers' Evil

Diary Two: The magic wants to heal, and I am the one preventing it

Song- Daniel in the den: Bastille

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the dainty card fluttered from my fingers to the pile on the soldier's bed, I wondered whether war could be cured with a simple card game. It seemed to bring a healing happiness to the soldier who had every reason to never smile again, yet the game caused a rumble of laughter from his chest that I knew pained his soul. If war could be created by an argument between two, surely it could be cured by a game that could even entice the dying into a beaming smile?

"My boy loved card games. He picked up a pack from a small French kid that he became acquainted with when we first moved out here." The soldier fumbled his charred fingers to the edge of the set he held, placing another card on top of mine. The thick smudge of ash that clung to the grooves of his fingertips acted like a second layer of skin, making it hard for him to grasp the thin paper, and his muscles cried out in a painful plead to stop, but he continued for the little peace the lighthearted game provided.

"My brother too loved card games. We would often play with the other children in our village." I chuckled at the thought of my brother finding a similar sense of distraction in the silliness of the games, when he could. There had been a time when we had sat on the small slabs of stone before our house, using the dusty surface as a table to lay our cards upon. Exploding Snap had been a rather expensive gift, one that I wasn't sure how my father had come across, but it had brought hours of genuine giggles to his children, and for him that meant more than what he had presumably sacrificed to receive it.

However, like all things that brought joy to my brother, it had ended abruptly one afternoon when his sickness became too much, and the set of cards had remained tucked underneath my childhood bed in the spot that would forever be ours. If I had known that it would be our last round of card games, perhaps I would've asked for a second after that.

I liked to think of what life could have been if he had lived, if I had managed to use the goodness of my magic earlier than I had discovered it. My brother would have excelled academically at Hogwarts, he would have been a Gryffindor I had always thought. He would have been equal parts studious and mischievousness, most likely earning himself a place on the quidditch team too. He would have graduated to become an auror, and succeeded too. He would've had a family, a big one at that. Things would've been okay, good.

"What's he up to now, your brother?" Despite the ache that the innocence of the question created in my heart, it only served as a reminder of the pain I was trying to rid from others. I knew how badly it stung, I knew that the pinprick was everlasting, and I wanted to let people be happy. I smiled nonetheless, a genuine smile of the memories that I remembered him by. He was my protector even when he was sick. He was a piece of my home.

"He works in the law enforcement. He lives in Scotland with my dad, to keep him company whilst I am away." The entirety of my lie was strenuous coming from my lips. Lying to begin with was something of a break to what I knew to be right, but to lie to keep the secrets of a magical world away from a muggle, to lie to keep the peace of a man's unstable mind safe, were multiple feats in themselves. The only saving grace of the lie was the soldier's sweet hum that accompanied his gentle grin.

I supposed soldiers rarely heard tales of love and serenity over the blazes of explosions and tumultuous bombardment of gunfire. He poised his lips with an air of surprise, the sudden positivity a welcome hand that had taken some of the weight off of his heart.