Chapter Text
Once they find the book (PJ triumphantly running a lap around the top floor and holding it over his head as he quietly cheers) they all head across the field behind the building to the cemetery, the clouds overhead giving them enough cover that any random person passing by wouldn’t be able to tell they were a bunch of teenagers or, in Phil’s case, look like one.
PJ, who had been engrossed in the book since they’d left the library, heads directly for the mausoleum behind the overgrown headstones.
“We need candles,” he explains, “I don’t have any, but there might be some back here. Hang on a minute.”
Dan sticks his hands in his hoodie pockets once PJ leaves them alone, convincing himself it’s because it’s kind of windy out and not because he feels extremely awkward or anything. He feels a little justified when Phil does almost the exact same thing.
“I really do like you,” Phil blurts out, the surprise on their face making it evident that they didn’t expect them to say it either, “I haven’t just been acting nice to you out of convenience or to make this all more bearable or anything like that.”
They’re waving their hands around and Dan feels the urge to grab one just to calm them down. And just to hold their hand, but that’s besides the point.
“And I know we haven’t really known each other all that long,” Dan must’ve spaced out as Phil seems to be on an entirely different topic, “But I’d really like to keep being your friend after this is all over. I mean-“
But at that moment, when Dan feels like something big he can’t quite explain is about to happen, PJ shows back up, a couple of half melted tapered candles in hand.
“I got ‘em!” PJ waves them around a bit before kneeling down on the ground and clearing some dead leaves from a patch of ground, getting down to business.
“Now,” he explains as he lights the candles, “my Latin’s not as good as my Italian, but most of it’s the same. It says we have to set up the three candles in a sort of triangle, then Phil stands in between them, Dan chants out the last bit, and we’re good to go!”
“Why do I have to be the one to say it?” Dan tries not to sound sulky, “I messed it up the first time, how do you know I’m not gonna do it again?”
"It insists that the entire spell, binding and unbinding, must be done by the same person," PJ says as he leans over the lit match to make sure the steadily growing wind doesn't blow it out, "Something about the magical equivalent of crossing the streams or something, the details are lost on me."
He stands up and brushes the bits of dried leaves off his knees before handing the book to Dan and stepping back.
"Well then," he says, "Your turn."
The entire time PJ's been explaining the spell, Dan's been trying to ignore Phil looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Whatever they were going to lies unfinished between them and Dan can feel it pulling them even closer together.
Before stepping into the little patch of dead grass, Phil sticks out their hand and shakes Dan's a little awkwardly.
"It's been nice being magically bound to you, Dan Howell," they say before stepping back into the triangle. It's a small miracle they don't knock over any candles and set the entire cemetery on fire.
Dan can only nod and bury his face in the large book, trying to make out the right words in the dim light. A cloud drifts past overhead and suddenly there's enough moonlight to see everything from the ink on the page to Phil's small smile. It makes it harder to turn back to the words, but Dan manages somehow.
Halfway through the first page the wind picks up more, somehow still not blowing out the candles. Phil looks a little startled and Dan's afraid he's done something wrong before he sees their sneakers floating just above the ground. It's not long after that that Dan reaches the end of the page and Phil disappears with a little "pop".
"I guess it worked then?" PJ asks innocuously enough but Dan had forgotten he was still there and almost knocks himself over turning around.
"Yeah," Dan shrugs and smooths down his hair from where it had been blown around, "Guess that's it.”
"What was that handshake thing about anyway?" PJ asks, "What did they give you?"
"What?”
PJ taps the back of Dan’s hand, which is clenched in a fist and barely holding onto the book. He opens it and stares dumbly at the piece of paper there as PJ explains, “They weren’t very subtle about it, I’m surprised you didn’t notice. A little distracted, were you?”
PJ laughs and backs off as Dan angrily waves him away and turns around to smooth out the little scrap of paper that looks like it was torn out of the back of the spell book. The handwriting is a little shaky, and Dan now knows why Phil had been lagging behind the whole time they were walking over to the cemetery. He only distantly hears PJ telling him he’ll see him tomorrow, trying to decipher the smudges on the worn out paper.
PJ’s footsteps are a retreating background noise and Dan smiles as he reads out loud, "If you thought you'd get out of this that easy, you're a lot dumber than you look. Plus, now I know where you live, you haven't seen the last of me by far-"
He doesn’t get to finish as he hears that now all too familiar whooshing sound as an equally familiar voice says, “Xoxo, Phil.”
Dan doesn’t even have to look up before he’s leaning in to kiss them, threading his fingers through Phil’s stupid windswept hair and tries to stop himself from laughing in relief. He knows it’s weird, and no one would ever really understand, but he’s glad he was stupid enough to think a library book might actually be magic. After all, it brought him Phil. It was probably worth it.