Chapter Text
Simon felt worried. Well, equally worried and excited, but still worried nevertheless. It was hard to focus on the real world after the enchantment dream that he and Baz just shared. The dream was vivid and real, but now it was sleeping through his fingers, leaving only a trail of memories behind.
And he wasn’t even sure if those memories were true or false.
He looked around at Penelope’s worried face, at Agatha smirking and at the library's door that just closed behind Baz. He stood up.
“I gotta go.” He said.
He left the library and saw Baz almost right away. He was standing near balustrade looking down at a massive staircase underneath.
“Hey,” Simon said. It was still hard to separate Baz that he just saw in a dream from this one right in front of him. They were different though, this Baz had school uniform on and his face looked tired and distant under the dim light.
“What do you want, Snow?” Baz asked.
Simon leaned over the balustrade as well. He could see the staircase and the darkness below. He wondered if that was the same thing that Baz saw.
He didn’t know what to say at first. All the words inside his head felt dry and unnatural.
“Did my spell work?” He asked finally. “Did we see the future?”
“I don’t know what you saw,” Baz said blankly. “But I didn’t see anything special.”
There was nothing in his voice that reminded Simon of how Baz sounded in the dream. His memories were slipping away, leaving him empty-handed. After all, there was no way to know if Baz was lying.
“I saw an Autumn Ball,” Simon said slowly. “And I saw you as well. We were…. Crawley, we were dancing, Baz.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Agatha?” Baz said. He was still looking down.
“I know what I saw and unless you secretly enchanted me with some kind of a love spell—”
“As if it’s everyone’s dream to enchant you,” Baz said with an eye roll. “That is simply ridiculous, Snow.”
“Stop calling me that!” Simon took a step closer. He wasn’t looking at the staircase anymore. His gaze was on Baz. “In the dream you were perfectly fine calling me Simon.”
He saw Baz flashing red and suddenly he realized that Baz knew what he was talking about all along.
“Admit it.” He said. “You saw it as well.”
Baz pushed himself off the balustrade and stared at Simon.
“What exactly do you want me to admit? That we shared some kind of a lucid dream that I enchanted on you with a love spell?” He snarled. “It was your spell Snow, grow up.” He made a full turn, rushing to stares, but Simon caught him by the hand.
“Wait.” He said. His fingers were wrapped around Baz’s wrist, a thin layer of fabric of his sleeve separating them from the actual touch. “Why are you keep on pretending?”
Baz sighed and pulled on his hand. “Let me go.” He said.
“Not till you’ll answer.”
“Even if your spell did work and you saw the future or something that you thought looks like future, it doesn’t matter. Future is fluid. It might have changed the very moment we are talking about it. It might have changed the very moment you saw it. In the end, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“So my spell worked.” He let go of Baz’s wrist, carefully sliding his hand along, letting there fingered brush slightly. “None of my spells worked before.”
He hated how his voice sounded. As if he was seeking some kind of validation or approve. And, Crawley, he was seeking it from Baz Pitch .
“It was a good spell,” Baz said.
Simon shrugged. “Not good enough to make you believe.”
“I don’t need a spell for that.” He didn’t look at Simon when he said that. “But not you. You did need a spell to believe in things.”
Simon didn’t move. It was and it wasn’t true. He didn’t need a lucid dream to make him obsessed with Baz Pitch. But he needed one to justify that he can’t push it to the back of his mind anymore.
He couldn’t say anything though. He just watched Baz turn around and go away.
He sat on the stairs after that, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He was trying to look through recent events. He thought about Baz being suddenly nice to him (well, not exactly nice, but at least they did talk), about Agatha’s conspiracy theories with Old Families and finally about the simple fact that was shining like a small ray of light over everything, the fact that his spell did finally work. Maybe he wasn’t completely useless in magic after all.
And even if Baz was right and what he saw was just a fluke, a random possibility that is not even supposed to happen, it was still huge. And disturbing. Disturbing and nice, the same way as a dream that you just had, that stays with you through the whole day and makes you smile.
“Are we going to the party or was all this makeup for nothing?” Simon heard on Agatha's voice above him.
“You go, I am not in the mood.” He said.
“Oh, did the looser asked you to stay?”
“No,” Simon said. “And please shut up. Don’t call him that.”
“How nice.” Agatha purred. “Let’s go to your room and you tell me everything.”
“I will go to my room and you can go wherever you want.”
Agatha grinned. “Sweet Simon, don’t lead me on. You know I love when you are angry. Besides, I can give you some good advice.”
She leaned closer and put her arm around his shoulders. Simon wanted to tell her that he doesn’t need any help, that he can figure out things on his own and that she should stop violating his private space. Instead, he just pushed Agatha’s arm away and stood up.
“Do whatever you want.” He said.
Agatha stood up as well and followed him to his room. For a moment he was afraid Baz would be inside waiting, but when they came in it was empty. Simon felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.
He sat on his bed, watching Agatha carefully crossing the room, balancing on the yellow tape in the middle.
“Do you ever go to his half?” She asked.
“You know perfectly well that I don’t,” Simon said.
Agatha took a step aside, ending up on the Baz’s half. She sat on his bed looking extremely pleased with herself.
“Look what I just did.” She said.
“You do it all the time.”
“True.” Agatha shrugged. They were sitting on opposite sides, the same way as he so often did with Baz, except that with Agatha he didn’t have to avoid eye contact all the time.
She wrinkled the covers, took out her flask and cheered Simon from distance. Then she pulled out the cigarette.
“It’s not allowed to smoke in here,” Simon said.
“Since when? Did your Froggy Prince gave you a new set of rules?”
“Since today. And don’t mess up his bed. I would have to fix it later.”
“Speaking of messing up, don’t you wanna join me?” She grinned. “Don’t tell me you never imagined ending up between Pitch’s sheets.”
She stretched her long legs and continued. “Don’t worry, I am sure he will be happy to find you here. Especially after your little sex dream.”
Simon just shook his head. “Whatever you think it was it wasn’t that.”
Agatha raised up her elbow and looked at Simon with interest. “So you do have your hopes high, don’t you?” She turned on the stomach, hugging the pillow. “Did you ever consider that all this sudden closure was a result of a careful plan?”
There was something under Baz’s pillow and the next moment she pulled out the notebook. Baz’s secret notebook. The one where he wrote down notes late at night when he thought Simon was asleep, the one he was careful enough to never left behind. Careful enough until this day.
Simon always thought that it was full of some boring things like homework notes and drafts of magical spells. But even if it was true the notebook was a thing private enough to keep it far away from Agatha.
“Dear diary,” Agatha read trying to mock Baz’s voice. “I had a sex dream about my roommate Simon Snow again today.”
It took a few moments for Simon to realize she was making things up. Of course, she was. He stood up. He knew the yellow tape wasn’t cursed but he still hesitated before crossing it. That gave Agatha some time, long enough to go through pages and find a note tucked inside.
She quickly read through and her face lit up with excitement. Simon knew that whatever those note said it was wicked enough to make Agatha happy.
“Amazing. This is like an early Christmas.” She said. And then. “I was right after all. They’ve planned everything. Look!”
She waved the paper in front of Simon’s face, but he looked away.
“Put it back.” He said.
“No way.” She was reading through again greedily. “It says little Pitch should bring you food, and help you study and spend time with you. Simon, those are basically instructions to seduce you. I am sure that’s all Fiona’s Pitch plan. Look, she even asks him to invite you to the Autumn Ball. This is just priceless.” She leaned back and started laughing.
“You need to leave,” Simon said. He made extra effort to control the anger in his voice. “Put the note back and leave.”
He didn’t want Agatha to notice he cared. That was the biggest mistake he could ever do.
“Fine.” She tacked the note back inside. “But please be all silly just because it’s him. You will be a fool to trust Pitch after that.”
She walked to the door but stopped just in front.
“He’s not your boyfriend, Simon. And he never will be. Bringing you scones, helping you with your homework, of course, it wasn’t for real. They don’t need people like us as their friends.”
She pulled the door, but it was already opening from the other side. That made Agatha take a few steps back making a way for Baz to walk in. He stopped at the door, looking at Agatha, then shifting his gaze to his wrinkled bed.
He flashed red. “I don’t care what you did here with your girlfriend, but when I will come back, everything better is cleaned up.” He turned around, but Agatha caught his sleeve. She was quick, almost magically quick when she wanted.
“Pitch, you are not going anywhere,” Agatha said. “We know about your aunt’s plan.”
That maid Baz stop. He looked at his bed again. This time he noticed.
“My notebook.” He said.
“Yes.” Agatha’s voice sounded triumphant. “And everything inside.”
Baz looked at Simon. “I can’t believe that you did it.”
He looked pale. Tensed and betrayed at the same time. He was wearing the same Watford’s uniform and his jacket looked a little bit oversized. Simon tried to see the same Baz as he saw in a dream, under the layers of mistrust and withdrawal.
“I didn’t do it,” Simon said. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Baz to believe him.
“Of course he didn’t.” Agatha snorted. “He was even afraid to cross the yellow line, he thought that it’s cursed.”
Baz raised an eyebrow. “It’s not cursed.” He said to Simon.
“Explain where the note comes from,” Agatha demanded, she was still tugging Baz’s sleeve. “Why do you have a plan on how to seduce Simon written in your aunt handwriting.”
“Stop saying seducing ,” Simon said, he felt his cheeks going on fire.
“And you stop pretending as it doesn’t mean anything. This is all probably a part of some dark twisted plan to kill you the same way as they did kill your Father.”
“This is ridiculous,” Baz said. “This is just a note my aunt wrote to help us be … friends.”
He stumbled on the last word and Simon wondered if he was imagining things.
“And he is calling me ridiculous. You can’t be friends. You never were. Didn’t you ask yourself why you even consider it as a possibility all of a sudden? Let’s just cast a spell over this note and check if it’s enchanted or not.”
“What do you mean enchanted?” Baz said.
Agatha rolled her eyes. “For someone who pretends to be smart most of his life you act very stupid. I mean,” she said with empathy, “that there is an enchanted charm on this note that made you do all those things mentioned.”
“You are mental,” Baz said. He turned to Snow. “She is mental. Fiona would never do it.”
“So you were trying to be friends with Simon only because your aunt told you so in a note?” Agatha said.
Baz was frowning. “Not because my aunt told me so, but because…” He stopped. “Whatever. Let go of my hand and I will do it. You both are shit with spells anyway.”
“Just to be clear,” Agatha said. “I am not bad with spells. I just don’t care enough to do them.”
She let go of Baz and Simon watched him taking out his wand. He liked watching Baz casting spells, his movements were always sharp and precise, and his posture strict and rigid. It felt almost sacred, as he was allowed to witness something private and remarkable.
“May the truth be relieved.” Baz cast, his wand pointed to the note. Simon didn’t see what happened with it, he just saw Baz’s face changing into his darker version. Finally, he looked at the note watching letters shining with soft white light.
“Satisfied?” Baz asked. His voice sounded tired. “Can I ask you to leave now?”
“Wait, what does it mean?” Simon asked, confused.
“It means that there is nothing magical there. But, it’s still possible that he cast the fake spell.” Agatha said. She didn’t sound very convincing though. “It’s still quite weird Pitch, that your aunt writes you notes like that. If I were you I would be quite embarrassed.”
“You are not him,” Simon looked at her sharply.
“Are you ok?” he turned to Baz. He didn’t know much about magic, but he knew well enough that casting two big spells in one day was exhausting. Even for somebody who was as good with magic as Baz was.
Agatha sighed. “I’m getting bored. Simon, goodnight and Pitch, you are still a fucking weirdo. Bye.”
She slammed the door behind her, and without her presence, the room suddenly felt too small, as if she took away all the space with her.
“You didn’t have to cast it. The second spell, I mean. I believed you anyway and you didn’t have to exhaust yourself.” Simon said. He was still standing on the Baz’s side, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to another. He looked at the notebook, that Agatha left on the bed. “And I am sorry, I didn’t stop her.”
Baz shrugged. “At least she didn’t smoke inside.”
“And she is not my girlfriend. You said before that she is. And she is not.”
“Merlin, Snow, stop repeating that. If you believed me.” He paused. “I believe you.”
Simon breathed in. It took him a few seconds to try to form words.
“So Fiona made you help me with homework.” He half asked half confirmed. “But ... why? ”
“She wanted us to be friends,” Baz said almost painfully. “She wanted to keep you inside the magic community. To not let you drift away.”
“Did it work?”
“What?”
“Are we friends?”
Baz scowled. “We are roommates.”
Simon took a step closer. “So was it the list I mentioned in the dream?” He asked carefully.
Baz quickly looked up. “I told you already it doesn’t matter. The dream doesn’t matter. The future is fluid.”
“Or it’s not.”
“That’s ridiculous, Snow. Did you even attend the Prediction Theory?”
Simon shrugged. He looked on the floor, at the yellow tape under his feet.
“Let’s tear it off.” He said.
“Tear what off?”
“The tape. We are friends now. I know it’s sealed with your magic, I tried to do it before and I couldn’t.”
“I am too tired for the spell. And we are not friends.”
“Tell me the spell and I will do it myself.”
“Merlin, you are annoying.” Baz leaned back on his bed and loosened his tie. Simon found it hard to look away. “Just do Clean as a whistle. And think it disappears.”
Simon tensed. He knew it was an easy spell. But even the easy spells were hard for him. He made himself breath easily, he had to do it.
“Can you lend me your wand?” He asked Baz. “Mine is in the backpack.”
And just like that, he asked Baz for his wand. The most intimate thing ever. It struck him that Baz would never do it.
“You left your wand in your backpack,” Baz repeated. He sounded annoyed. “Of course you did. Crowley, why I am not surprised.”
He reached for his wand and gave it to Simon. Simon touched the warm polished wood. For one moment he felt the hot wave of fire washing over. He felt Baz presence as close as if he was touching him, not his wand. He squeezed it tighter.
The spell went easy this time. He imagined tape disappear like he imagined many times before. And when he opened his eyes he saw Baz staring.
“Is it gone?” Simon asked. He was afraid to check himself if his spell failed.
Baz slowly nodded. Simon felt the wand as a fire in his hand. He was dizzy. That’s how it feels to do magic , he thought.
“Snow,” Baz said. “Are you alright?”
Finally, Simon looked at the floor. The tape was gone and everything felt different without it. His spell worked and Baz saw it.
He wasn’t a disappointment anymore.
“So you were following your Aunt’s list.” He looked back at Baz. “Every advice. Why?”
He took a few steps forward and held out his hand with the wand. Baz took it back and slowly looked up.
“I wasn’t following the list. I just did what felt right.”
He was standing very close now. Baz’s head was stubbornly lifted up and he could see his grey eyes very close.
“You did everything the list said, but you didn’t do the last thing,” Simon said.
Baz blinked caught by surprise. “Are you making fun of me?” He asked. Their eyes were still crossed.
“I am not. I am just wondering if it’s my turn now.”
“Your turn?”
“My turn to follow your aunt’s list.”
Baz blinked again and Simon thought that he enjoys this newly gained power of having Baz startled. Fuck Prediction Theory, he thought.
“Will you go to the Autumn Ball with me?” Simon asked.
Baz inhaled sharply. He hesitated. “But why?” He said.
The room felt different without the tape on the floor, Simon felt different. He knew very well the answer now.
“I want the dream to be true.” He said. “Except for the dancing part, that could be better.”
That made Baz grin. “We both know, you would never dance better than that.” He said. “Though I agree to give you a try.”
Simon felt his heart beating faster. “Does it mean yes?” He asked.
Baz nodded slowly. “It also means stop swaying over me and go back to your bed.”
Simon felt himself smiling. “But you agreed, right?”
“Yes, Snow, I agreed.” Baz fell back to his bed and exhaled. “Merlin, I am tired and you stand there like a beautiful golden puppy. How can I resist.”
Simon was sitting on his bed now, feeling exhausted. He was watching Baz, wondering if he must feel three times as tired as Simon. “Don’t forget to change.” He reminded. “If you want I can help you.”
Baz shoot up into a sitting position immediately. His face was flushed. “I only agreed to go to the Ball, I am not going to undressed in front of you!” He sounded scandalous.
It was Simon’s turn to blush. “I can close my eyes.” He suggested.
“You wanna undress me with your eyes closed?!” Baz’s voice still sounded panicked.
Simon coughed. “I mean, I will keep my eyes closed while you are changing. If you are too exhausted to go to the bathroom.” He paused for a second and grinned. “But I don’t mind your suggestion as well.”
Baz gave him a killing stare. Next moment Simon saw a pillow flying in his direction.
Simon caught it and hugged it, putting his chin on the edge.
“It smells like you.” He said.
“ Snow.” Baz growled.
“Call me Simon and I will give it back.”
Baz gave him another killing stare. “Merlin I am so not ready for you acting like that.”
Simon laughed pleased. “My favourite part of the dream was when you called me by my name.” He said and through his pillow back.
“And my favourite part was when you stepped on my foot.” Baz caught the pillow and gave it a suspicious look. “It’s not mine.” He said.
“I know,” Simon said. “That’s the plan. I will have something of yours and you will have something of mine.”
Baz rolled his eyes. “Who would think that Simon Snow is so sentimental. I wonder if I should reconsider my choices.”
“Please don’t.” Simon abruptly looked up. “I will be better, just don’t… Don’t reconsider.”
“Simon,” Baz said. He was laying on the pillow now, his eyes half-closed. “I am not even sure if I am awake, but even in a dream, I would never hope for this day to happen. For us to happen. I won’t reconsider it ever.”
Simon felt his throat tightening. He looked at Baz, but Baz had his eyes closed already, breathing evenly.
“Goodnight, Baz.” Simon muttered quietly. He wanted to say so much more, but then there was always tomorrow and they had plenty of time, and when he finally closed his eyes he dreamed about them dancing.
The End.