Dark Magic and Spells

"Not the usual reaction I get?" The question came from a friendly voice full of mirth from the guy standing in the flat.

At the moment Fred heard Marysia scream, he grabbed her, pulling her against him. She was shaking, uncontrollably close to tears, and she hugged him tightly. "Hey, it's alright; it's just my brother, Bill," Fred said soothingly in her ear. He heard her trunks hit the floor, and she buried her head against his shoulder. Fred looked at George, confused. She was holding on to him so tightly, it was giving him a bit of physical discomfort. He looked down at her face and realized she fit perfectly in his arms.

"It's okay. You're safe. We're back. Nothing to be frightened of. He's my brother, remember Bill?" Fred said into her ear, and he felt her relax a little bit. "So, you got my note?" Fred asked his brother, looking over her head.

"Cryptic, I'd say. Even for you two?" he answered, still surprised by the girl's reaction. He shot Fred a questioning look that made his brothers both shrug back. "What's up? What's so important?"

"What happened?" George asked Fred, showing concern. Her reaction to Bill's presence in their flat had startled him and only confirmed his suspicions that something was really amiss.

"I thought, at the shop, I saw... no – in the window... please, I must have imagined..." Marysia took a deep breath to compose herself. "Never mind... I'm – it's silly really," she said, embarrassed now, pulling herself up and straightening her posture, her arm still around Fred.

"No way! I get a welcome like this, and you say it's silly?" Bill moved toward them. "I thought that I was expected?"

"You are," both Fred and George said in unison.

"Who did you think I was? A Death Eater?" He was almost laughing, although his eyes showed confusion and concern.

"Kind of... I'm sorry, it's just..." She didn't want to admit how frightened she had been by the figure at the window. What if she had been mistaken by his intent? "What they were saying before we went to get my things..." Marysia now really did feel silly. Surely the figure at the window wasn't a Death Eater! Here in Diagon Alley? Would they really dare? She had just let her imagination get the better of her.

"Or let me guess, is it my scars? Did I frighten you? I'm sorry if..." he said as he stepped closer. Bill had a warm smile that echoed in his voice.

Marysia relaxed, dropped her arm from around Fred's waist and was now looking directly at him; she could see the scars on his face. Suddenly, she felt very embarrassed by her reaction. "Scars? No, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean... for a moment... I just overreacted. I'm so sorry." Fred kept a reassuring hand on the small of her back.

"No problem." Bill was kind enough to let it drop. "So, your note said that you had something to show me, something I just had to see. What is it, a new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product?" Bill asked with mirth. But Fred eyed her, wanting to know why she had reacted so strongly. Later, he told himself.

"No, something her father sent her to translate. Bill, this is Marysia," George said, finally remembering that they hadn't been introduced. "Marysia, this is our esteemed brother, Bill."

Marysia, remembering her manners, extended her hand, facing him with perfect posture and composure. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," she said with a warm smile. "I do apologize for my rude behavior. I hope I didn't offend you."

"The pleasure is all mine; no offense taken. Please, call me Bill," he answered back with a smile and a wink at his brothers. "My, I never thought you two ran in proper circles!"

"Yeah, she's righ' 'n proper," George broke into a brogue, mimicking her posture, standing up straight and tall.

"We've been tryin' to improve 'owrselves," Fred answered in a mock brogue too, grinning, also standing up straight and tall. My, he's tall, thought Marysia.

"'Open that some 'o her might run off us, ya see?" George continued in his strongest brogue.

"Can't say it's working," Bill said, shaking his head at his brothers. All three of them laughed heartily, and Marysia began to relax. "So, where is this stuff you want me to see?"

"Let's go to the table, shall we?" George made a mock bow with a sweep of his hand toward the kitchen. "Hey, bro, have you had dinner yet? Marysia here made an awesome stew, and we have some of Mum's bread left."

"That would be great, thanks. Fleur hadn't come home yet when I got your owl," Bill answered as he followed George to the kitchen.

Fred helped Marysia as she moved her steamer and her trunk George had packed closer to the table. "Are you okay? What happened? What made you so frightened back there?" he asked softly.

"You and George mentioning strange occurrences, disappearances, deaths, Death Eaters, and Dementors – and then I thought that I saw something...someone – at the window before we left my shop that gave me a fright." Just mentioning the figure made her hands tremble. Suddenly, she became quite composed. "It was probably just someone checking out the shop, nothing more."

Fred took her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. Merlin, they were earthy green with flecks of gold, still floating with tears she had held back. Something had really frightened her! She was looking at him, so trustingly that it made his heart skip a beat. Her lips were full, and they looked soft as she began to smile at him, and her teeth were straight and white. "I should get my things out, don't you think?" she said, snapping him back to his senses.

He helped her sort through the papers George had dumped into the trunk, amazed at how careful she was with the old parchment. She then opened the left lock, opening a second compartment of her trunk and took out more papers, some journals and a diary. Finally, she had everything laid out on the table as she and Bill began to go over them. As they went over the context of what her father had sent her, Bill seemed really interested and was occasionally shocked. "Wow, you did good work on this! Ever consider working for Gringotts?"

Marysia laughed. "No, but thank you for the recommendation, though. I already have two jobs lined up for me, running an extension of my Aunt's shop here in Diagon Alley or working at St. Mungo's as a Potions Brewer. I'm signed up for the Potions master program at the Healers Academy this autumn. This is just side stuff I do for my dad."

"Too bad; we could use you in our translation department." He bent his head back over the parchments and read them through. "This is very Dark magic and some very complex protective spells," he noted. Marysia pointed to another page, which Bill took from her. "This symbol clearly means 'venomous,' but this one here is 'serum or milk.' These marks are either 'thorn' or 'fang,' probably from a plant though, not a snake, yes, see this symbol?" Bill asked, looking at her as he exchanged pages on the table. "Most of this seems correct. It's a very old style I don't see often. However, this is Acromantula venom here... It's an old, rarely used symbol for Acromantula, often confused with 'large spider' or tarantulas, which is similar." He scanned down the page. "You got the rest here right." As he spoke, Marysia made notations of Bill's translations.

"I think that I pretty much have this page correct, except for these symbols here." Marysia handed Bill another page, as George set a bowl of stew near Bill. Both Marysia and Bill quickly moved the parchment sheets out of the way so the food wouldn't spill on them as he ate.

Fred was amused, watching the two academics poring over the sheets and journals before them, leaning close as they read the entries and compared translations, completely engrossed in the writings. Marysia continued to make notations on the symbols Bill knew and corrected the translations on symbols she'd misinterpreted. It's a good thing Bill was blissfully married, he thought as he leaned back, watching them.

"Possibly names, or a place. See, it's prefixed here. This might be a location. Most of this is not unusual for Dark Magic. Hum, blood letting, and the killing of an innocent animal – this symbol is right – 'young' or 'baby' animal – this isn't nice stuff." Bill looked at her as she sat back down in her chair. "Some of these pages seem to be the spells written about in the journals. Where did you get this?"

"My dad sent it to me to translate for him. Who would want to go through all this?" She shook her head. "I mean why?"

Fred and George had randomly picked up pages as they were passed around. Fred was amazed at how much work Marysia had done on them, and how much she had yet to do. She seemed to work at random. Not many of the sheets had been completely translated.

"Dark wizards do some pretty amazing things, awful, cruel sometimes, but amazing." Bill set down the parchment. "Where did your dad get this?"

"Well, my guess would be in Scotland, Ireland, or even Wales. He was researching Scottish legends and their folklore. His box before this one was about Llyr, a legend in Wales, and Lir, an Irish legend, both described by Muggles as gods of the sea. Dad thinks that they might actually be the same wizard. Dad's also been interested in Finn McCool of the Fianna, lately. He's known to be related to the Fairy Hill folk, and stories of his ability to do magic seem to be true. Apparently, Dad managed to get into a Fairy Hill a few weeks ago. Then he sent me a box containing all this. But this is not his usual material – very different from what I usually get from him actually. I don't think he read any of it before sending it to me."

"Well, these are very complicated curses that would take a very accomplished wizard to do," Bill said, "or most likely more than one very skilled wizard to perform. It would take more than one very skilled wizard to break; at least three would be my guess. And if I'm not mistaken, it would take combining wand cores." Bill ate some of his stew as he read on.

"You've broken spells like this?" Marysia was impressed.

"I work in Egypt mostly. But, yes, I've seen similar spell work, and I've had to deal with some very complex protective spells on the tombs." Bill said casually.

Fred held up a sheet Marysia had translated, with the exception of the last lines. It was about Ravenclaw's blue jewel and seemed to quote a poem. "What's this one?" he asked, pointing to the lines still un-translated.

"That one is a reference to a poem about Rowena Ravenclaw that was supposedly written by her father, or, more likely, the poem was written about her by someone who knew them. It's said that her father gave her a brooch when she came of age, with a large blue stone the color of the early evening sky that's supposed to have an occlusion in it that looks like a bird in flight. The poem ends with what is believed to be the inscription on the back of the brooch, 'From a loving father, to an adored daughter, that she may know how proud I am of her.'"

"Never heard about it," George said. "But this sheet also mentions 'the evening sky brooch,' and someone wrote 'the blue stone of Ravenclaw' on the margin. Are we even sure it's really Ravenclaw's? I don't remember reading anything significant about a pin before?"

"Weren't you all in Gryffindor?" Marysia asked.

"Yeah, you know we were," George said, pointing to himself and Fred, "and Bill was in Gryffindor five years before us."

"Well, I was in Ravenclaw. It's a Ravenclaw House tradition for fathers to give their daughters a piece of jewelry at, or after, graduation with a blue stone." She reached into her trunk and pulled out a cigar box, opened it and pulled out a blue topaz pendant set in an intricate gold setting. She handed it to George, who passed it to Bill. Fred looked over his shoulder at the pendant. On the back there was a ring of tiny little marks. "Mine was this pendant. It mimics the brooch of Rowena Ravenclaw's"

"What are these little marks, runes?" Bill asked.

"Yes, Dad had it inscribed with the last line of Ravenclaw's poem." She flicked her wand at the pendant. "Engorgio," she said, and the pendant swelled up, which then could be seen to read: 'From a loving father, to an adored daughter, that she may know how proud I am of her.'

"That's very nice!" Bill said handing it back.

"That is interesting. Ravenclaw is said to be from Glen," Fred pointed out.

"The Sorting Hat liked to mention that in its Sorting songs," George said.

"You think that Rowena Ravenclaw could be buried in a fairy hill?" Fred asked.

"Don't know the connection, if any, actually," Bill stated. "Not really my area." He stood up, taking his bowl from the table to the sink. "I'd like to borrow these and see what can be crossed-referenced at Gringotts?"

"Give me parchment, and I can make you copies if you like. But Dad is expecting me to return these to him. I would have to send them back when he needed them." George nodded and left, and Bill sat back down at the table.

"Who's your Dad anyway? I may know him." Bill asked, leaning back in his chair while his brother went to get parchment.

"Professor Stefan E. R. Lewgorski," Marysia said proudly. George returned, handing her a large amount of parchment sheets from his room.

"You're kidding! Professor Stefan Lewgorski? I do know him! He's a famous historian. I have several of his books." Bill exclaimed, sitting up straight.

"Your name is Duncan?" Fred asked, more statement than question.

"Mum and Dad separated before Michal was born," Marysia answered. "Mum was living with her sister, my Aunt Janet, when she had us."

"But Michal is a year older than you?" George asked perplexed. Michal had been in their year at Hogwarts.

"Well, yes, Mum always called me her happy oops. Dad came to see her after Michal was born, and I came along nine months later." Marysia shrugged her shoulders. "Even after my parents got back together, Dad wanted Michal and me to keep our last name as Duncan."

"Why?" Fred asked.

"To protec... because... he just did. Part of that long story of my life." Marysia didn't want to go into her past with them yet.

"Someday I'm going to want to hear this story," Fred said, giving her a mischievous look.

"Maybe someday," she said thoughtfully. She let out a sigh.

"Lewgorski, if I remember, didn't he teach at Durmstrang, with a Professor Novakovich?" Bill asked. "I think my two volume book set The History of Magic, Ancient Magic Spells, Charms and Enchantments mentions him?"

"Yes he did. And, no, you're thinking of the History of Magic books my dad wrote, a seven volume History of Magic set from the notes, journals and course outlines of his mentor and friend Professor Zederic Novakovich, whom the books are dedicated to. Dad also wrote The Dark and Light of Ancient Magic Spells and The Great Wizards of Their Age, Their Accomplishments and Their Achievements, which were very good sellers. Dad has a humorous way of presenting history."

Marysia wouldn't be able to hide the pride in her eyes, even if she tried, Fred thought, watching her.

"I have those actually. One of my dorm mates had a set of your dad's history books, and I'd stay up sometimes all night reading them. Those books were far more interesting than Professor Binns ever was. Your dad made me like history. I have a whole collection of your dad's books." Bill set down the parchment he had been holding. "You're right, this isn't your dad's usual topic material. Even in his The Dark and Light of Ancient Magic Spells, he didn't go into stuff like this."

"Dad would love to hear that, and you're right. I was really shocked when I began translating this stuff." Marysia took a sheet and placed it next to a blank sheet George had given her. "Transcribere copia," she said as she moved the wand over the page. "Copia," she said, sweeping the tip of her wand down the blank one. The text, symbols and her translations appeared as an exact copy.

"Neat spell!" Fred exclaimed as Bill said, "Nice and easy," nearly in unison, and the three of them began to help Marysia to copy parchment sheets and the journals the same way. Marysia, however, slid the diary aside and into her open trunk, unnoticed. Before long, everything on the table was copied, and Bill had his copies bundled to go.

"Bill, you said that you work for Gringotts?" Marysia asked tentatively. "May I ask if you have access to the vaults?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes. Why?" Bill looked directly at her, inquisitively.

"Would you be able to place the ones we've finished in my vault at Gringotts? I would feel safer with them there than in my trunks." She looked back imploringly. "At least until I hear from my dad and I can send them to him. I just don't want them lying around."

"Yeah, sure, of course. I can do that," Bill assured her. Fred noticed the look of concern that flicked across her face, replaced with a resolved calm when Bill agreed to deposit them.

As Marysia collected the material they had completed and some of the journals and sheets that were unfinished, her hands shook. Twice she picked up the diary to give to Bill, then took it back. Eventually, she kept one of the journals and the diary with its loose sheets to work on. She looked nervous.

Fred wondered if it wasn't just having this stuff lying around that bothered her. Fred remembered her mentioning the face in the window and her reaction when they had come back here. Was Marysia uncomfortable about the papers and journals or – that figure in the window she had mentioned before? Her initial reaction to seeing Bill... it was probably the figure in the window – but why? Now he wanted to know exactly what, or who, it was she had seen.

He stayed next to her as they said goodbye to Bill, who left with his arms full with three large bundles: her dad's originals, her translations and Bill's copies.

"I'll stop by the bank tonight and deposit these for you; I may leave my copies in my desk tonight as well, since I'm going be there anyway. I'll let you know what I find out about the symbols we didn't know, okay?"

And with that, Bill was gone.

*~*****~*

Author's Notes:

I owe a big debt of gratitude to Phoenix for all her hard work and time in cleaning this stroy up and making it presentable. Thank you, Phoenix. I appreciate it more than you know.