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Argus held his hand to his brows, blocking the sunlight from his eyes as the star bore down on him. He was tired— his lungs burning in his chest— and he had to give himself a moment before squinting and removing his hand, putting it back to the rockface and forcing his fingers to mold to the inscrutable dents and cracks. He had no idea how goats could do this with ease and agility. Not an ounce of magic in them and somehow they could do from infancy what he’d been training himself to do for the past three years.
Three years… As young as he still felt, so much had changed. The sun's rays, like golden fingers, caressed the rugged terrain, casting a warm glow on Argus's face as he battled against the sharp wind, his every strenuous breath heaving through him. Determination surged through his veins and he could almost hear Kit’s voice urging him to continue.
He’d been weak once. Back before Kit got sick, back at Hogwarts, he’d been called Spider and Willow and it didn’t matter if he’d held promise in his bones. Nobody cared. Nobody but her.
The other students only saw long limbs and a head up in the stars, lost in the clouds, lost in the daydream of what could still be explored and discovered. But somehow, Kathleen saw something in him that not even he could see. She found tenderness. She found softness. She found delicacy in his gentle hands. She found him hiding within a shell of himself, and expertly, she found the cracks.
Cradled within the embrace of the rugged peaks, finally, Argus’s hands found purchase and as the last of his air grunted from his lips, he pulled himself with all his might onto the shelf. Rolling to safety, Argus laid his back down and pulled his wand from its holster, quickly warding the small oasis so he could not accidentally fall to his death. As his breathing gradually returned to a steady rhythm, he couldn't help but marvel at the vast expanse of the mountainous landscape surrounding him.
Kit would have loved this, he imagined as he took in the view. She’d always loved sunsets.
In the final twinkling of the sun disappearing beyond the horizon, Argus turned to the pond and stared at his reflection. His dark hair spilled over his eyes and his pale skin felt tender to the touch from the long hours spent bared to the sun’s rays. For all the strength he’d built for this journey, it still took him everything he had to make the climb without magic. The natural wards of this moon pool allow one to only find it in their moments of utmost desperation, somehow harnessing the innate magic of genuine need.
The darkness of night took hold quickly and stillness settled over the mountain, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation. The whole night stilled to a pause and the breeze petered out, drowning Argus in silence. His stomach clenched as he watched the full moon, steady in its ascent, creeping closer and closer and Argus could hardly breathe in the suspense.
When the moon finally hung with its full reflection gleaming in the water, he could feel it in his bones. She was here . The water seemed impossibly warm as he dipped two fingers into it, but something about it clung to him like a film that coated his skin. The pond looked surprisingly different from this angle; he could not see how deep the pool fell, unable to discern the bottom through the darkness and the algae under the faint light.
An ethereal hand emerged from the depths, enveloping his fingers. He recognized her immediately as her face emerged from darkness, her hand ensnaring his.
Celestina, the spirit of the moon, the deity he’d come to appeal for his wife’s future.
He thought for a moment that she’d pull him in, but she didn’t. Stepping expertly, Celestina pulled herself from the water, her form bathed in the enchanting glow of the moon. Her auburn hair, dark and wet, dripped against her naked skin and Argus paled under her knowing gaze.
"Argus," she beckoned, her voice a velvety caress that wrapped around him like a silken thread. A twinge of fear surged through his limbs, but as soon as she spoke his name, his body calmed. His shoulders sagged and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. "You seek solace for a heart in torment. What have you brought for me? "
Though he was unnaturally calm, his brows rose in surprise. “Is this not a wishing well?” he asked nervously. “Do I not get a wish?”
“Life demands a price, my love. What are you willing to sacrifice? ” she whispered, her voice echoing through the mountain air, carrying ancient weight. "What are you willing to sacrifice for the peace you seek? "
Argus, dilated eyes fixed on her mesmerizing presence, felt his lips open before he knew he was speaking. His heart pounded in his chest; a reminder that something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t pull himself from the trance. She was here, and she was everything . She could be everything he ever needed if he let her take him away.
"Anything,” he found himself saying. “I would give anything."
Celestina's gaze intensified, her eyes gleaming. "Anything?" she echoed, her words hanging in the air like a delicate promise. "Words are like spells, Argus. Choose them wisely."
“I understand,” he said.
“Then tell me,” she whispered, her closeness glistening like dew coating morning. “Tell me what you desire.”
“My wife… Kit,” he stuttered, ensnared in her words. “Kathleen. She’s a Maledictus, you see, she’s not well anymore—”
"Yes,” she encouraged against his stubbled face, her fingers dancing across his skin, lighting his nerves in trails of scorching heat.
“I wish for her suffering to be over… for her to be free of her curse.”
“Would you give your youth for this? Your magic? Would you give what I desire most of you to heal your precious Kathleen? ”
His head nodded before he could even understand her words, almost as though his body were possessed. Even as she moved, he reacted. Like magnets, like she was pulling him with her orbit alone. If he didn’t step back, he imagined he could get lost in the smooth caress of her voice… in the gentle tenderness of her hands against his skin… Perhaps he’d lost himself already.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice a surrender. His lungs stung, quietly screaming.
“You must say it aloud, my love,” she cooed, her gentle prodding luring him to his words. Her lips curled and then delectably, they ghosted over his. They teased his breath from his lungs and he hung in wait as she closed the empty space. He hadn’t been able to feel her straddling his legs until she let her weight down onto him. Instinctively he pulled her in closer as though she’d melt from his hands the moment he closed his eyes, but she didn’t. Her body’s pressure spilled into him and he fought his simple hands’ urge to grope, to squeeze, to hold. Even as he closed his eyes, the desperation in him imagined that it was not her pressing her lips to his temple. But still, with her possessive hands and his desperate soul, he nodded.
"Whatever you want of me, Celestina. Take it, it’s yours."
With a triumphant smile, Celestina closed the distance between their faces, her ethereal beauty overwhelming his mortal senses. As Celestina sealed his words with a hungry devouring kiss, memories flashed through his head.
Kathleen with her poetry books and the bright yellow bow in her hair. Kathleen’s hand gripping his as the tremors tore through her, forcing her form to change over and over again. Oh, Kathleen, and her lips pressing into his as she stood on tiptoes in her white dress…
Celestia’s sweetness drained him and as he sought her tongue in his mouth, memories pounded into him.
~ I, Argus Filch, take you to be my wife ~
Sharness sliced into him as her teeth bit down on his numb lips. Blood dripped down the back of his throat and his eyes snapped open.
~ In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish ~
He looked down, and his eyes widened as the firm supple hands that had pulled him up the rockface gnarled and wrinkled. The skin that had been tough and firm sagged from his bones and the depth of his soul flattened.
~ for better, for worse ~
“Is it done then?” he asked, pulling away and reeling from the age of his voice. “Did you help her?”
“She’ll never be forced through another change again,” Celestina promised him, his red blood shining on her lips. The moonlight drenched her in its glow and Argus sighed in relief at her words.
~ I, Kathleen Norris, take you to be my husband ~