the school of extraordinary lovers

XIII

Harry takes a second to compose himself before he steps inside the pub where Amber is waiting. Each time he catches his reflection, he can almost see the thousand thoughts shooting around his head, not one of them good.

The pub is relatively empty and there's a game on TV, meaning that likely no one will overhear their conversation or pay them any mind. He has a glass of water 'to start' and they split an order of chips.

"So, what have you got for me?" Harry asks.

Amber pretends to crack her knuckles. "Alright, so. My mum knew absolutely nothing, which doesn't totally surprise me because she hates her family and wants hardly anything to do with them. I also don't think she took me seriously. I tried to tiptoe into it. Told her I was going to become an influencer and like pretend I was a witch because that'd probably go over really well with gen z. And she's all, 'sounds great, honey' and so I say, 'yeah, so, what are the chances that we have witches in the family?' And she says, 'well, witches don't exist, but i'm sure people will believe you if you say otherwise'."

Harry folds his hands together in his lap. "Doesn't sound promising."

"Exactly. Then I went to my aunt. I saw her at a Halloween party we throw every year. Perfect setting to ask about these things. And I got her before she had her second sangria. Anyway, so she told me all about my great great grandmother, Viv. She was an only child. Had one daughter and no husband we know of. She's like ninety years old now and she lives in a nursing home in France and every year one of my mum's aunts goes and visits her. When she was in her forties, she was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's but the doctors rescinded their diagnosis years ago because she's still fucking alive. But she's got all the signs of dementia according to them. They've tried diagnosing her with other shit too, but it's like supposedly, she was fine and then one day, she just couldn't function anymore."

"So no one's been able to help her?"

"She's beyond help now, but no, I guess no one ever could. Anyway, she doesn't talk anymore. Like not a word. But right after she landed in hospital, one of the nurses reported that all Viv could say was, "It's all gone. The power is all gone."

"Meaning magic..."

"Obviously, right?" Amber says. "And that would explain everything. This mystery illness that crippled her? If she'd lost all of her magic, her way of living, of course. That'd destroy anyone."

"And she's taking visitors still?"

"Yeah, but we wouldn't get a word out of her. Unless... can you read minds? Is that fucked to go to a nursing home and read an old lady's mind?"

"It's a bit fucked," Harry says. "Also, it might violate witch law to use a mind-reading spell without consent. Good witch law, anyway. It's soul-darkening to do it forcefully."

"We don't want that," Amber says. "Do witches go to heaven? Is there a heaven for us?"

"Not exactly. Wouldn't expect to see Jesus there, but there's another realm right next to this one. Called the Overworld. And our souls dwell there and our magic gets recycled."

"That's kind of beautiful."

"It is, yeah," Harry says. "I'm glad you got answers. I don't think it's anything I can use to really help you. Unless Viv can tell us how she lost her magic."

"Right, well...bear with me because this sounds ridiculous. But there was one other conversation someone had with Viv. Her daughter, my great grandmother, Vera. She was a kid at the time. Way too young to be believed or to make sense of what she heard. But she swears, while they were in her hospital room, her mum said, 'It was the hatmaker'."