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BAZ
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Snow is plotting.
He’s reading a spell book. Snow never reads spell books. Not even the ones we have to read for our lessons. And he’s trying very hard to keep it a secret from me, making sure to hide the cover and take it with him everywhere he goes, even to the bathroom.
Of course, Snow’s never been very good at keeping a secret. All I had to do was go to the library and see what he’d checked out; a book about wards and defensive spells. (I read it in our fifth year. Not bad.)
He’s probably reading it for the Mage. After the last Humdrum attack, parents were enraged and demanded the Mage put up additional wards. My father told me all about it. The Mage is probably going to make Snow do it, even though Snow can barely muster a basic shield spell, let alone a ward big enough to cover the whole school.
I don’t know why that would give Snow a cause to hide the book from me so religiously. Maybe he’s trying to give me a taste of my own medicine or something else equally idiotic. Like he doesn’t know I’ll always be two steps ahead of him.
He’s reading now and I’m pretending to do my homework. Him suddenly taking an interest in reading has been both a curse and a blessing, since it gives me so much more space to stare at him. More than once this week, I’ve had to finish my homework in the catacombs, where I wouldn’t get distracted by Simon Snow immersed in a book.
I’ll probably have to take my Greek conjugations to the catacombs again tonight. The way Snow twirls one of his curls between his fingers when he’s reading is entirely too distracting.
Suddenly, he jumps up and snaps the book closed, startling me. I try to play it off.
“Crowley, Snow, where’s the fire?” I sneer. He pays no attention to me, just scoops the book under his arm and rushes out of our room. All that’s left is the faint smell of his magic and my undead heart still beating slightly faster than usual.
Part of me wants to follow him to see what he’s up to, but I’m not going to let myself sink to his level. He’s going to come back eventually. In the meantime, I have homework to do.
PENELOPE
“Simon, that’s an incredibly difficult spell,” I say, eyeing the passage in the book. The spell he’s shown me is a mix of a ward and an intention spell. It makes different coloured sparks shoot out of the other person’s magickal instrument, depending on what their intentions are. It’s old, difficult and dicey at best.
“Yes, but it’s perfect! I mean, my motives here are pretty clear, right? It’s not fair that he’s up there, plotting my downfall while I’m literally lying in a bed only a few feet away. I think the Anathema should extend to no thoughts of violence in our room either.”
I sigh. I don’t think Basil is plotting Simon’s downfall – I think he’s just doing his homework – but it’s impossible to change Simon’s mind on this. And he hasn’t talked about Baz at all today (which is a miracle in itself), so I can’t even use the quota yet.
“That spell doesn’t even connect to the Anathema though,” I say. “And it won’t stop Baz from plotting against you.”
“Yes, but at least I’ll be able to see when he’s plotting and I can confront him about it.”
“Don’t you think that’s an invasion of privacy?”
“Not if he’s plotting to kill me, it’s not,” he says, determined. I sigh.
“I think this will cause more problems than good. Just leave Basil alone. You have the Anathema anyway,” I try to convince him, knowing full well that all my attempts are futile. Simon has already made up his mind about this.
“Yes, but he can still plot , even with the Anathema.”
“You’re reaching your quota.”
“I’m going to do this,” he decides. “Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work. Best case scenario, I get to see when Baz is plotting.”
“For the record, I think this is a bad idea,” I warn him. “Now enough about Baz. Have you done your Greek conjugations yet?”
BAZ
When I get back from the Catacombs, the air in our room is thick with Snow’s magic. Whatever has worked up his nerves this time?
Snow himself is lying in bed, and I know he’s pretending to be asleep because of his position. When Snow is actually asleep, he’s curled up like a knot; when he’s pretending, his legs are stretched out like a log. (It doesn’t do me any good to know this.)
There’s no magic coming off him now though, so the smell of campfire in our room is probably just residual Simon-ness.
It makes me worry about him, to be honest. I’m always worried when Snow’s magic is leaking. Sometimes he leaks so much magic, it’s hard not to worry; even if it’s just because of my snide remark about how it’s no wonder his girlfriend left him when he’s such a shit mage. I don’t mean any of what I say, not even in anger. And I don’t think he’s a shit mage. He’s so powerful and so alive and sometimes, when his magic is overflowing, I just wish I could take some of it away. I wish I could—
My train of thought is cut short by gold sparks shooting out of my wand.
What the fuck? I examine it - something must be wrong with it, because I’m too good at magic to be randomly shooting out sparks , for Crowley’s sake. I’m not six years old anymore.
I drop my wand on my bed and head to the bathroom to change for bed, my thoughts drifting off to Snow again.
SIMON
Baz disappears into the bathroom and I hastily sit up and turn on the light. Did that really just happen? Did I really just see sparks flying out of his wand?
That means my spell worked. It actually worked! I feel excitement bubbling up in my chest. I can’t wait to tell Penny tomorrow.
This also means that the first thing Baz did when he got to our room was plot against me. I know it was plotting, because the book said the spell is specifically designed to set off sparks only if the person wishes they could do something to you. Baz wasn’t just randomly thinking about me, no, he was thinking of ways to hurt me. He’s a plotting, scheming vampire and this is my proof.
His wand shoots out sparks again . Of course Baz would be plotting even while brushing his teeth. That’s exactly the kind of posh scheming git thing he’d do. (I wonder if he has to brush his fangs?)
I’m too caught up in thinking about his fangs that I don’t notice that the water stopped running until Baz is standing in our room again, his eyebrows raised.
“Your wand is shooting out sparks,” I say quickly, hoping that’d be a decent excuse as to why I’m awake. Baz sighs and furrows his eyebrows.
“Your magic might be possessing it, Snow. Seriously, can’t you ever control yourself? The room smells like an arsonist’s crime scene,” Baz snaps. I swallow. Does he somehow know about the spell?
I can’t think of anything else to say, so I just turn off the light and pull the covers back up. I hear Baz crawling into bed as well.
Moments later, his wand starts shooting out a whole stream of golden sparks. He groans and tosses it in his drawer, leaving the room in total darkness.
That makes me believe he doesn’t know about the spell. If he did, he wouldn’t be plotting, right? (I mean, that’s what I wanted to achieve when I cast All’s fair in love and war on the room.)
Unless plotting my downfall helps him sleep.
But no… I don’t think he knows, which means I’m in the clear. My spell worked.
BAZ
I keep my wand tucked deep inside my bag for most of my classes in fear of it malfunctioning again. I didn’t go through all of the struggle to secure being top of my year just so that my wand would start shooting out sparks in Elocution.
I’m mildly annoyed with it, because we’re doing levitation spells today and those are my favourite. To make matters worse, Snow has been staring at me all day, his eyebrows furrowed and his blue eyes intense, almost like he’s expecting me to jump up and start draining students at any second.
“Mr. Pitch, care to join the class?” Madam Bellamy’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Good grades are no excuse to slack off, especially not during such an important lesson. Please take your wand out. That goes for you too, Mr. Snow.”
I sigh and fish out my wand, willing for it to behave. Then I join Dev and Niall, because they’re least likely to judge me if my wand starts acting like a fireworks launcher.
To my surprise, not a single spark flies out. And my levitation spells are the best in class.
SIMON
“The spell worked,” I inform Penny as soon as I sit down at our usual table in the dining hall. “Baz’s wand started going off the moment he got back in the room.”
Penny looks genuinely surprised to hear that. “Really? Did he say anything?”
I shake my head. “No, he just went to the bathroom and then his wand started shooting out more sparks. He probably plots while flossing the rats out of his fangs,” I say.
“Wait, his wand was going off even when he wasn’t holding it?”
“Yeah. Is it not supposed to be doing that?”
“ No . The spell should only work if he’s holding his wand…” Penny furrows her eyebrows. “I think that probably means that whatever he’s thinking about is strong enough to pass through the barrier between him and his wand or maybe your spell was just that powerful… Or maybe… do you think Baz can do wandless magic? Maybe he figured out what you were up to and decided to lead you on.”
Truthfully, that sounds exactly like something Baz would do. I wouldn’t be surprised if the tosser actually can do wandless magic – he’s the top of our year, after all. Maybe the Families put him through some dark ritual and now he’s able to do it. Except…
“No, I don’t think he is,” I shake my head. “I think Baz is too proud to just magic up golden sparks. Did you see him in class today? He barely even took out his wand. I think he genuinely thinks something’s wrong with it,” I say, suddenly feeling guilty about the whole ordeal. I know most mages view their magickal instrument as their most prized possession and I’ve just made Baz believe that his is broken.
Penny, on the other hand, looks even more shocked than before. “I’m sorry, you said the sparks were gold ?” she asks. I nod.
“A whole stream of them. When he went to bed, he ended up putting the wand in his drawer because it was like a roman candle. They were definitely gold.”
“And you still think he’s plotting?” Penny asks.
“Yes, I just told you! His wand was going off like crazy!”
Penny’s shocked expression is soon replaced by the face she wears when I still don’t understand my Magic Words homework after she’s explained it to me hundreds of times. “Simon, how much did you read up on the spell?”
“I read up on it,” I mutter. I read how to cast it. I know that it’s a space specific intention spell. “The book said sparks mean he’s plotting.”
“Red sparks, Simon, red sparks ,” she sighs, exasperated.
“So, what, the spell didn’t work?” Honestly, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised by that. Maybe I did actually break it. Maybe Baz was right about my magic messing with his wand.
“It all makes sense now,” Penny mutters to herself.
“What makes sense? Can you tell me if the spell worked or not?” I’m beginning to get frustrated. Penny still looks deep in thought.
“It did work,” Penny finally says. “But gold sparks mean his intentions are pure.”
I nearly choke on my bite of roast beef. “What? They can’t be pure! Baz doesn’t have pure intentions!” I sputter.
“Apparently he does. It makes sense that he would too, now that I think about it…”
“He’s evil!”
“If his intentions were vile, the sparks would be red,” Penny reminds me. “Seriously, how much did you read up on the spell?”
“Well, then I must’ve messed it up! I probably unintentionally switched the colours in the spell or something,” I sigh, exasperated. Baz’s intentions can’t be pure! He’s evil! What kind of a pure intention could he possibly have with me?
Maybe I should go wait for him in our room and crowd him against a wall and demand what he’s up to, Anathema be damned. He definitely has intentions; I probably just messed up the spell. Or maybe he’s messing with it on purpose.
“Simon, calm down.” Penny’s voice brings me back to reality. I realise my magic is leaking and everyone in the dining hall is staring at me. I take a few deep breaths and try to focus on pulling it back in.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t think you messed up the spell, but I do think you should talk to Basil. Actually talk,” she says. I sigh and bury my face in my arms.
“I don’t want to talk to Baz,” I mumble. “Why would he have pure intentions? What do pure intentions even mean ?”
Penny sighs like I’m being an idiot. We’ve probably already surpassed my Baz quota and she’s going to tell me to stop talking about it and talk to Baz… but I don’t want to talk to Baz. I don’t want to find out that I either messed up the spell or he’s doing this on purpose.
“Okay, Simon. I’m only going to say this once and then you’ll go talk to Baz, okay? Because I think you two are on the same page.”
“We’re never on the same page,” I object. She sighs again.
“Just listen: All’s fair in love and war is a spell for two types of intentions. Pure and vile is paraphrased, but generally, red sparks mean war and gold sparks mean… love.”
I jerk my head up. “Love?” I sputter. “You mean to say… Baz loves me?” For some reason, the words don’t sound alien in my mouth even though that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.
Penny smiles sympathetically. “I think he might, yes.”
Before I know it, I’m out of my chair and running towards Mummers.
BAZ
Snow is terrible at keeping a secret. My wand acted normal during classes, but started shooting out sparks the moment I got back to our room. (Thankfully, Snow wasn’t there to see it.)
This led me to believe that the problem might not be with my wand, so I started to investigate. It didn’t take me long to find the book about wards and defensive spells that Snow’s been reading so religiously over the past week or so. Apparently, he didn’t care much about hiding it now that it was done.
The page was even marked with a sticky note, because he’s that obvious.
I was more than a bit pleased with myself to have found out his secret so easily, but that was until I realised what spell was marked.
All’s fair in love and war .
He knows.
My wand’s been shooting out gold sparks, there’s no way that he doesn’t know. He saw it.
He knows that I’m in love with him.
I quickly throw the book underneath his bed where I found it and grab my school bag. I need to get out of here – I can’t be in the same room as him now that he knows how I feel. I’ll sleep in the Catacombs. Or at Dev and Niall’s. I just can’t be in our room right now.
Unfortunately for me, that’s exactly when the door swings open and Snow walks in, his shoulders squared in a fighting stance and his magic leaking all over the place.
Oh Chomsky, he knows. He definitely knows.
“Baz.” His voice is shaky.
“Sorry, Snow, duty calls. The first-years won’t sacrifice themselves.” I try to push past him through the doorway, but he blocks my route. I look down at him (the whole three inches) and sneer. “Get out of my way, Snow.”
My hopes of sounding intimidating are cut short by a whole waterfall of sparks pouring out of my wand. (I can’t help it; he’s so close that my nostrils are full of his magic and his cheap soap and his aliveness .) (At least it gives me a little bit of solace that the sparks are still gold, even though I am thinking about biting him as well as kissing him. Clearly, his magic knows that it’s not my intention to hurt him.)
“Your wand,” Snow says slowly.
“Yes, Snow, your magic is leaking all over the place. Maybe next time you should focus on making your own wand work instead of taking it out on mine,” I sneer. I don’t know why I bothered – he knows the truth. He was the one who cast the spell.
Snow growls and shoves me back into our room, closing the door and leaning back on it. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he demands.
“Doing what on purpose?”
“ This . The sparks. Or is it really my magic? Because if it’s not, Baz—” he suddenly stops and shakes his head. “I just need to know.”
What? He needs to know what ?
Has he somehow not figured it out yet? Does he think that I’m doing this on purpose ?
I just blink at him.
“ What ?”
SIMON
“What?” Baz sputters. He looks as confused as I feel right now and his wand is still going off.
He’s not doing this on purpose .
Our eyes meet and there’s something in them that I’ve never seen before. Guilt washes over me as I realise that Baz is afraid. He must’ve figured out the spell (the smart tosser) and he’s afraid.
Afraid of my reaction.
I don’t want him to be afraid. I don’t… if Baz loves me, I should feel disgusted, right? I mean he’s a monster, isn’t he?
No, he isn’t. He’s just a boy. A bit of an arse, but still, just a boy.
A boy who’s afraid of my reaction.
I notice my magic is no longer leaking. I don’t feel angry or disgusted. I feel… relieved?
Because I think you two are on the same page , Penny’s voice jumps back in my head.
But I don’t love Baz. Do I?
I don’t want to fight him, that’s for sure. And I want him to stop looking at me like that – I want him to know that it’s okay. That I don’t mind.
I don’t mind .
Fuck, I think I do love Baz a little bit.
And I think I’m going to kiss him now.
BAZ
Snow is just staring at me. Frozen. This should be a great opportunity for me to make my escape, but I’m petrified as well.
Every cell in my undead body is screaming at me to move, but I’m frozen too, staring down at Simon’s boring (but so lovely) blue eyes.
Then, as if something snaps in him, he strides towards me with the force and determination that only Simon Snow is capable of. I don’t even have time to choke out ‘Anathema’ before he grabs me by the collar and yanks me down onto his lips.
Oh. Oh.
Simon Snow is kissing me. Quite forcefully too. His lips are almost bruising against mine and I don’t realise he’s pushing me back until the edge of my (or his?) desk digs into my lower hip.
I don’t know how to react. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone but him and I can’t help but think that maybe I’m dreaming.
But then Snow bites down on my lip and I realise I’m definitely not dreaming.
SIMON
Baz snaps back to life when I nip at his lip. His hands fly around my waist and he finally (finally!) starts kissing me back.
Baz is good at everything and kissing is no exception, even though I don’t think he’s done this before.
I should be worried about his fangs , I think as I lick into his mouth. Baz hasn’t confirmed he’s a vampire, but I know he is. I think of how I’m still wearing my cross and how it must be bothering him, so I let go of his collar to unclasp the chain of my necklace. Baz pulls away.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice tense with anxiety.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I finally manage to unfasten the chain.
“Yes, but—”
“Then it should go,” I cut him off, throwing the cross in the direction of my desk.
“It protects you,” Baz murmurs quietly, looking down at our feet. I grab his face and make him look at me.
“Baz, you’re not going to bite me,” I tell him. He scowls.
“You don’t know that. I don’t know that. I haven’t fed, I—”
I cut him off with a kiss, but pull away when he tries to kiss back. “Look at this,” I say, nodding at the golden sparks that are now all around us; floating in the room like stars, making it seem like we’re in space. “The spell I used—”
“I know what spell you used,” Baz cuts me off. It doesn’t surprise me that he knows; he’s clever enough to have figured it out.
“Gold means safe,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against his. Baz’s arms tighten around my waist.
“That’s not what it means.” Baz’s voice is soft. I’ve never heard him speak so softly before.
“I trust you.”
Baz scoffs. “You literally cast an intention spell on me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I trust you not to bite me.”
“Simon…”
I shut him up with my mouth, but not as harshly as I did before. I wait for him to start kissing me back (he does) before I tangle my hand in his hair (how long have I wanted to do this?) and pull him closer to me.
Baz jams his face forward into mine in an attempt to take control of the kiss, but I’m not sure I want to give it to him just yet.
So I push back.
BAZ
I should’ve known kissing Simon Snow would be like fighting him.
But it’s also not anything like fighting him.
This is much, much better than fighting.
[3 months later]
BAZ
I sigh as I make myself as comfortable as possible in the corridor outside our room. There’s a Do not disturb sign stuck on our door, which means my idiot boyfriend and his best friend are probably in there, uncovering schemes or finding the faeries or whatever it is that they do. (I do wish they’d let me in on their adventures sometimes, but I’d also rather be burned alive than do anything for the Mage.) (I wish Simon would stop obeying the Mage too, but politics is a topic we both tend to avoid since it never ends well.)
Normally I’d go to the library and do my homework until they’re done, but my homework is in our room, so I knock on the door.
“Snow? Can I just come get my homework?” I call through the door.
“No!” Snow sounds almost frantic on the other side of the door. “Just give me a few minutes!”
I shouldn’t be bothered by it, I know, but it does sting a bit that he doesn’t trust me enough to let me in right away. I mean, it makes sense; his mentor and my family are still on opposing sides of a war, and while Snow and I have both agreed not to fight each other, we can’t just ignore everything else that’s been going on in the World of Mages.
I understand, but I’m still hurt as I settle back down onto the corridor floor. Especially since today is the day. Three months have passed since Simon pushed me against my desk and snogged me senseless and then asked me to be his boyfriend.
I know it’s not much, but it feels like the first big milestone. And Simon never forgets an anniversary. (Which is more than a bit endearing, given that half of the time, he doesn’t even know what day of the week it is.)
And it’s not like we had anything planned. For our first month, I took him out on a proper date in Fiona’s car (I had to practically slay a dragon to convince her to let me borrow it) and for our second month, we just watched a movie and cuddled (which isn’t that different from how we usually spend our evenings), but we didn’t set anything for today. I shouldn’t be bothered by the fact that he’s busy.
But I am.
The door opens a few minutes later and Bunce walks out. I scramble to my feet.
“Basil,” she greets me. “You may go in now.”
“Thank you for letting me into my own room, Bunce. Whatever would I do without your generosity?”
Bunce rolls her eyes and smiles. “Oh, lay off it! Have a nice night,” she practically winks and hops down the stairs.
“You know I can still turn you in for being at Mummers?” I call after her.
“But you won’t because then you’ll never know how I do it!” she replies and, curse her, she’s right. The mystery of how Bunce gets into Mummers is something both Snow and I have spent literal hours theorising over. (Well, I spent hours theorising over the magickal logistics of it while Snow just wondered how to drag the truth out of her. Neither of us came up with anything good.) (It amuses Bunce greatly to keep us in the dark about this.)
I straighten out my uniform jacket and turn to the door. The Do not disturb paper sign is still up, so I rip it down and crumble it before I enter.
The paper falls out of my hand once I see the state of our room. The lights are out, but the space is filled with thousands of tiny golden sparks that float around like lazy fireflies.
Simon is standing in the middle, his hands tucked in his pockets and his hair illuminated by the sparks. He smiles sheepishly as our eyes meet.
“What in the—” I start, but I can’t find my words. It’s beautiful. “Did you do this?”
Simon nods. “Penny helped. Sorry we kept you waiting.”
“I…” I scramble to find my words, but I keep getting distracted by the tiny sparks and how beautiful Simon looks in their light and how full of love my heart feels right now.
“I can’t believe I rendered Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch speechless,” Simon smiles, stepping forward and taking my hands. I let him pull me into the room.
“This is amazing,” I whisper. “I can’t believe you.”
Simon laughs and presses a kiss to my neck. “Your wand did this when we kissed, remember?”
“Of course I remember.” As if I could ever forget the moment Simon kissed me for the first time. (His intention spell broke when he kissed me, but the sparks remained floating in our room for hours afterwards.)
“I just wanted to do it again,” he says.
I shake my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
Simon smiles and tugs at my hands, pulling me closer. “In a good way?”
My hands cup his face and I close the distance between us with a gentle kiss. “In the best way.”