I knock on Mirabel's door, the cold wood beneath my trembling knuckles. It doesn't even take a minute before the door opens, and she appears on the threshold, wearing her usual kind expression—one that vanishes the moment she sees me.
«Cassandra...» she whispers, the smile slipping from her lips like a breath in the wind. She stares at me for a moment, concern etching fine lines across her brow, before stepping aside to let me in. «What happened to you?»
I don't answer right away. I feel suspended, as though my voice were left behind somewhere along the corridors I walked to get here, into her room lush with life, while inside me stretches an arid desert. My cheeks are damp with already-dried tears, a mask of distress I can't shake off. But looking at Mirabel, at the softness in her expression, something inside me breaks, and I finally allow myself to give in—to show what I have only today discovered to be my greatest vulnerability.
«M-Mirabel,» I manage, my voice breaking. «I... I don't even know where to start.»
Mirabel gently guides me into her room, settling me into a chair near the fireplace. Without a word, she pours a cup of hot tea that seems to have been prepared for this very moment. The steam dances lightly in the air, its scent comforting, but the beauty of these small things barely touches me; everything inside me is a storm that warmth cannot calm.
She sits across from me, her usual kindness in her gaze, though veiled with worry. Her hands folded in her lap, she watches me, waiting patiently for me to speak, unhurried. I don't know where to begin, and yet I can't stay silent any longer.
I hold my breath for a moment, gathering courage, then lower my gaze to the untouched cup and speak, my voice barely a whisper. «I don't know how to tell you, Mirabel... but I've done something I'm ashamed of.»
I feel the flush rise to my cheeks as I try to continue, the weight of those words becoming tangible. «On the way back from London, from Egypt... on the Hogwarts Express. I was the only one awake in the carriage: Albus was in another compartment, and Aesop... he had dozed off. I saw his papers; they were right there beside him, abandoned on the seat.» My voice trembles. «A note caught my eye and... I did something I shouldn't have. I don't know what came over me, but I took it and read it.»
Mirabel watches me in silence, but I can sense something deeper behind her calm—an intermingling of astonishment and understanding. My fingers tremble slightly, and I clutch the cup as though it's the only anchor I have left. I hope she's not judging me.
«There was something strange about that piece of paper, Mirabel. A note, listing ingredients and a phrase. It said, 'How fitting it would be if the key to my curelay in the obscure.'»
My voice cracks, and I lower my head, feeling the heat of fresh tears ready to fall. «I didn't mean to invade his privacy, truly. I had no intention of... but I couldn't resist, and now I can't stop feeling... vile. That note was never meant to be in my hands, and now I know that perfectly well. I don't know why I did it, why my eyes fell on that cursed piece of paper!»
A sob escapes me, remorse twisting my stomach. Every time I close my eyes, I see that phrase, those inked characters now seared into my memory.
Mirabel opens her mouth, but I shake my head and raise a hand to stop her from speaking. «Don't... don't try to console me, Mirabel. I don't deserve compassion.»
She remains silent, accepting my words, though I can see her worry deepening. I clutch the teacup, forcing myself to continue.
«It's not just that I read the note,» I admit, sniffing and lowering my voice to a whisper. «I even went so far as to copy it, word for word, onto my own parchment. I know what it was: yet another of his attempts to find a cure for his leg. And I know he's told me more than once to stay out of it... that it's none of my business.» I pause, taking a trembling breath, the shame choking me. «But I couldn't stop myself from thinking that I might... that I might be able to help. And even now, I can't stop thinking about it. It's stronger than me, Mirabel.»
YOU ARE READING
Lustful Alchemy
FanfictionAs a former Hogwarts student, journalist and magician activist Cassandra Doyle was delighted and honored when she received a letter from the Deputy Headmistress Matilda Weasley, asking her to join the teaching staff as Alchemy professor. However, as...
