Chapter Text
SIMON
I knew what I was going to do for the assignment as soon as Ms. Possibelf announced it. (Which is new, because usually I wait until the very last moment to do any assignment.) (They’re just always so pointless. My magic doesn’t improve, and I never learn anything new, so why would I do them?)
But when Ms. Possibelf said we had to come up with any sort of magic that had to do with love? New or old? I knew exactly what I was going to use.
Back in sixth year, while Penny, Agatha, and I were searching for the six white hares, we had found a patch of flowers deep in the Wavering Wood. (The earth hare was awful to try and catch.) They were unlike any flowers I had ever seen before. They looked like daisies, but the petals were a deep purple. The kind that kings would use in a thick cape back in the middle ages. And the pistil was such a bright yellow I could hardly believe that it wasn’t painted. There were spots of pollen sprinkled on the petals. Closer towards the center--and slowly growing less and less as it got closer to the tips. It made the flower look like a piece of stardust.
They were so beautiful.
I remember being immediately drawn in. As if they could whisper me all the secrets I wanted to know. They could give me what I wanted most--even though I didn’t know what that was yet.
I don’t remember what it was that I wanted.
It wasn’t until I’d picked one that Penny spoke.
“Be careful with that, Simon.” She had been tracing the bark of an old oak nearby, trying to see if there were any markings in it.
I didn’t even turn to look at her; I was too entranced by the flower in my hand. “Why?”
Agatha responded that time: “Because that’s the most powerful piece of nature magic known to mages.”
I looked at her. “Really? What does it do?”
Penny opened her mouth to speak, but Agatha beat her to it, her voice quiet. “They make someone fall in love with the first living thing they see.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
Penny shook her head. “No, Simon. Those flowers don’t just make a person fall in love with the first person they see; they make a person fall in love with the first anything they see.”
“And no one wants to be controlled like that,” Agatha said.
I looked back at the flower. It was still breathtaking. There was no way that this iridescent little thing could be evil. Nothing this beautiful could ever be that sinister, I remember thinking. (That’s not true, though. After all, Baz is evil. Even if he is absolutely perfect in every other department.)
We had to leave after that (worseger attack), and I’d dropped the flower in the rush. I always regretted that--I don’t think I ever would have used it, but it was truly majestic, and I wouldn’t have minded keeping it--even if the only reason was just to be able to look at it.)
As soon as Ms. Possibelf dismisses the class, I practically run to the library. Penny finds me an hour later with my nose shoved in a book dedicated to the flowers. (I had to use Fine-tooth comb, “powerful nature magic .”)
It turns out, a mage that was obsessed with Shakespeare back in the seventeenth century decided to create a magickal artefact based on the cupid flower in Shakespeare’s play, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” In the play, if the juice from the petals of the flower are placed over the eyelids of someone sleeping, then, when they wake, they’ll fall instantly in love with the first thing they see.
Except, the mage who cast the spell must have been super powerful, because when he cast on just one flower, all of the flowers of that species took on magical properties. And then they just kept growing, and haven’t stopped in the past four hundred years.
The book won’t even say what the spell the mage used was. It’s too dangerous.
I’m explaining all of this to Penelope when Baz walks in.
He makes eye contact and sneers at me as he strides past our table. A low growl escapes my throat, even as I feel my cheeks warm.
“Simon,” Penny says. A warning.
I nod a little. She’s right--I shouldn’t keep doing that. Shouldn’t keep trying to initiate something. Even if it is just a fight. Even if it doesn’t mean anything. Because it does mean something. At least, it would to me.
I turn my head back towards the book.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea.”
I glance up at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if someone-” her eyes cut to Baz, now across the library, propping open his own book, “-found out that you had it. Don’t you think they’d use it against you?”
I frown. I hadn’t thought of that.
“You’d just have to be really careful, Si.”
“I know, Pen.”
She squints her eyes, like she’s examining me, but then smiles. “Did you know that some mages think Shakespeare himself made the flower?”
“Do you already know everything about this? I just spent the past five minutes explaining it all to you!”
Penny smiles again and pats my arm patronizingly. “And you did very well.”
My frown turns to a smile as soon as I meet her eyes. She always knows how to cheer me up.
“C’mon,” Penny says. “Let’s go get some dinner.”
BAZ
I fucking hate this assignment.
Love. Who the fuck wants to think about that? It makes it worse that Snow is here, in the library. I think he’s actually doing research. Which he never does. Which can only mean that this assignment is important to him.
He’s probably trying to get back with Wellbelove again.
I hate this assignment. Fuck if I’m not going to get a good grade on it though.
And I know exactly how.