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Phil took a deep breath as he picked up his rose quartz for the third time, holding it close to his face and studying it, his lucid eyes filled with intensity. This was the last time, he had told himself, that he would attempt this spell today – but he still couldn’t feel happy leaving the results as that – just a small pulse of energy from within the crystal followed by nothing. Sighing, he pulled open a small wooden drawer planted on top of the desk, rattling through his things until he found a clear lens about the size of a jar lid, and placed it studiously to his eye.
A knock sliced through his focus.
"Can I come in?” Dan asked carefully, with the distinct calm tone of someone who had just been meditating. To his credit, he was following the guidelines he and Phil had decided on some time ago - knocking and asking might not have been completely noiseless, but it was certainly better for the spell-caster than the distraction of another person rifling through the room. Phil decided his efforts were in vain and put the lens down on the cold wooden surface of the desk.
“Go ahead, I was just finishing up,” came his nonchalant voice, “while you’re at it, can you help me work out what’s wrong with this crystal? I know everything else I’m using is perfect, but the spell just won’t work.” He added as Dan opened the door and stepped towards the corner of the Phil’s room reserved for witchcraft. As much as he would have liked his own personal cupboard for herbs and whatnot, any witchy things he did try to smuggle into his room ended up looking distinctly out of place, so they had both decided to use Phil’s.
Dan picked the crystal up carefully, glancing down at Phil as he did so.
“What do you think is wrong with it?” He asked with a lilt to his voice, raising a brow as he stared straight through it. Sure, it was a rough stone; scuffed white trails followed the ridges and edges where it had been hewn from the earth and a chalky white powder came away on your fingers if you rubbed it too hard – but Dan knew it had no internal faults. He had used it for a cleansing spell only two days ago, when he had finally found the motivation to do so, and the house had felt so much less oppressive since then.
“I couldn’t find anything – it’s full of energy, and there aren’t any faults I can see,”
“What were you trying to do?”
Phil opened his mouth, and closed it again. His pale skin coloured slightly.
“What?”
“My spells just never seem potent – I mean, you saw how well my productivity charm worked last week,” Dan sighed empathetically, “I was using it to find a way to improve.”
“Dowsing? Maybe it’s just something in this room?” Phil glanced around with his lips slightly parted, before shrugging and leaning an elbow on the warm mahogany of the desk, golden patterns dancing beneath the surface of the wood as he moved. His head came down to rest on it, squashing the right side of his face, and he started using his other hand to fiddle with a dry sprig of lavender. It presently fell apart and scattered across the polished surface. Phil frowned as his vivid eyes focused on the lilac flakes, trying hard to remember the last time he had visited the apothecary. Dan laughed quietly - a short snuffling laugh. It was the kind of laugh that didn’t need to be loud and proud like his normal guffaw; this one was only shared between two people.
He folded his legs beneath him and planted himself on the carpet, placing the crystal – which he held carefully in two splayed hands – down, and proceeded to stare at it. His unfocused eyes gave away his deeper thoughts.
“Is it me?”
“What?” Phil asked, shocked. His chair squeaked in protest as he swung it round to look down and Dan, “It isn’t a summoning spell, Dan.”
“Every time I come in here you’re complaining about different parts of this spell, and I end up helping you,” Dan complained blithely, giving Phil’s leg a good elbow and his face a smile, “Maybe it’s been working all this time.” There was the lilt again – the playful up-and-down of his voice as he spoke.
The defeated look vanished from Phil’s half-lidded eyes – they stretched open into their characteristic stare, their blue-grey colour striking.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“What? No, Phil, I was joking –“ Dan objected, his voice stepping up an octave.
“No, you’re right. There’s no reason it shouldn’t work, and the only thing it has done so far is bring you to me. You must be it,” He leaned down awkwardly to pick up the crystal up from in front of Dan, almost falling straight into his lap as he did so. Once he had recovered, he looked back down at his flatmate with an outstretched hand. “What do you say, Dan? Fancy being my teacher?”
Dan smiled suddenly, taking his hand as he stood up. Their eyes locked and pale fingers intertwined – Phil’s frosty cold, and Dan’s warm.
“Why not?”