Chapter Twelve

I remember when it first happened. When something I couldn't explain hurt someone else.

It had been snowing on my street, and the neighbourhood kids were out throwing snowballs at each other. After some pleading, Mother rugged me up in my warmest coat and layers of scarves and shoes and sent me out to play. The other kids didn't bat an eye at letting me play.

We divided into four teams, decided because my squad wore something red, a beanie, a coat, some gloves, while the other side wore something blue.

We took cover behind parked cars, hopped fences and peered through the wooden slats, or quickly built terrible ditches in the short amount of time we had to prepare. The cold was blistering against my knees as I kneeled in the snow, and the metal of Miss Terrill's car was covered in frost, urging me to draw pictures with it. One of the older boys from across the road called out, "This is War!"

A frenzy of snowball began, some daring enough to break cover and make a run for the other team's base to destroy it. After a few moments of strategic snowballing, everyone ran around the empty streets, just throwing snow at each other.

It was a lot of fun.

But in a moment of surprise, one of the large boys picked me up and rubbed a snowball against my face. The bitter cold was a shock against my nose and cheeks, but it didn't stop. The boy wouldn't let go of me. He wouldn't stop shoving snow into my face.

All I remember was lying face down in the snow; the boy who had grabbed me was yelling in pain. By the time I pushed myself out of the snow, he had turned into a sculpture of ice. His face had stuck in a moment of shock.

The other kids approached him with caution, none entirely sure what had happened. My body was freezing, and I couldn't get up. I couldn't voice them a warning of not touching him, but the cold air was chilling my insides. One of them knocked the sculpture over and shattered the boy's right hand. A moment later, he thawed out, but his hand was still in a thousand pieces on the road, and he released a loud cry.

That was the first time I had been called a witch.

When I passed the living room, Gaelle was rushing from the kitchen, nearly knocking me over with her bucket of water.

Theodore had been laid down on the lounge, his feet pressing against the arm while he smothered grunts of pain. I rested against the doorframe as Gaelle kneeled to his face, resting a cloth against his forehead and offering gentle touches to his burnt body. Theodore looked to be in much pain, but he didn't cry.

He tried to hold his red arm, but Gaelle slapped it away, wrapping layer upon layer of towels over it.

I wiped my eyes as she ran for the stairs, Theodore's grunts of pain following me until I closed the bedroom door behind me. I covered my head with the pillows, trying to drown out the noise.

Theodore's voice wasn't loud enough to reach my ears anymore but echoed around my head, what I did replaying repeatedly.

My Father left with my brother after that snow-day incident.

My Mother left me after an incident at school.

Family members passed me on to the next if I ever acted out.

Social Workers deemed me a lost cause.

Foster Families left me in the dark until I behaved.

It soon became apparent I was using the pillows to muffle my cries. Would Theodore send me away? Would he re-sell me back to the auction house? Would he do something worse? Something I couldn't fathom?

*

Gaelle pressed a hand against my head, her unexpected touch startling me awake. Twilight had fallen outside, the moonlight making Gaelle glow.

When I calmed down, she replaced her hand on my face, taking extra care of the skin around my eyes. My eyes were sore, and my nose felt snotty. I pulled away from her touch and wiped my nose on my sleeve, the need to cry overwhelming me again as I whimpered and held my own face. The bed gave way slightly as Gaelle sat down, placing a hand on my back as I sobbed but offering no words of comfort. She shuffled closer, her hand wrapping around me and pulling me upright. Her other hand took mine from my face and pulled me towards her, eventually pulling me into an embrace.

I clutched her shoulders as I cried against her, my body shaking as she gently patted me on the back. I felt my teeth start chattering, but I still tried to talk, "Is Theodore okay?"

Gaelle pulled away and grabbed one of my hands. She rose from the bed and urged me to follow her. She held my hands down the stairs and let me go when we got to the living room. Theodore was sitting upright on a stool by the window, his eyes staring absently at the ground as his fingers played with the loose pieces of bandage around his arm. He wasn't wearing a shirt or a coat anymore, allowing me to see the damage I had done.

I thought I had just burnt his arm, but the bandages wrapped around most of his left side, across his chest, down his torso and his arm. Gaelle slapped the hand, playing with the dressing and patted down the bandages, making them tighter.

Theodore hissed in pain between laughs. "You left me, Gaelle. What was I supposed to do?" he joked, waving his good arm in the air. Gaelle ducked to avoid a blind strike as she pressed a teacup to his lips. He grunted in surprise as he took the cup and drank its contents. When Theodore was done, he asked, "What did I just drink?"

His eyes were still a pale blue, and as Gaelle fussed about him, he never laid eyes on her. He was still blind.

The sight of him distressed me, my breathing shaking as a wave of anguish washed over me.

He turned his head to face me, apparently hearing me. "Anya? You came down."

He winced as he stood up on his own. "It's not as bad as it looks, don't worry," he assured.

I couldn't stop. My breathing was shaking as tears filled my eyes. Theodore kept a hand on the back of the lounge as he limped in my direction. "You're crying," he said; it almost sounded like a question. "Anya, come here."

I bit down on my lip as I shuffled towards him, watching him grimace as he kneeled. He reached a hand out to me, brushing against my arm. He used it as a guide to touch my face, running a thumb over my tears when they spilled. "Hey, no tears," he soothed, "Are you okay? You were gone for a while."

My anguish turned to sudden anger.

"Were you hurt? I had completely forgotten to check earlier," he said with an awkward laugh.

I clenched my jaw, staring at his calm face as he smiled, despite being in pain.

"Am I hurt…?" The words felt funny coming from me. "Was I hurt?" I raised my voice at Theodore, and before I could stop myself, I was yelling at him. "I hurt you, Theodore! I blinded you because of my ignorance, and you're asking me if I'm okay?" I pushed against his shoulders, punching at where I had hurt him, but this time he barely flinched. "Why aren't you mad at me? Why are you okay with this!" I was strong enough to knock him off balance as he sat down. I stepped closer, still in a state of anger. "Why don't you hate me?!"

His arm came forward, and I expected him to hit me, but I was pulled forwards, losing my balance, as I fell against him, and he held me. His chest was warm, and his heartbeat gentle. He rested his cheek against my head as he sighed, "I don't like hearing you so sad," he said. He tightened his embrace before letting me go, the shock of it stunting my anger.

I sat on my legs in front of him, watching as he grimaced. "I'm sorry…" I muttered, wiping away the fresh tears, "I didn't mean to yell at you."

Theodore smiled, "It's fine."

"No, it's not…" I shook my head, my hands trembling.

Theodore shrugged, "Alright, it's not."

"How is what I did okay?" I asked, "I mean… I've hurt you. You're blind because of me."

"Anya, I'm blind because of me," Theodore countered, "I could've just let you get Flashed, and you would've been the one who's blind right now." He blinked several times, rubbing one of his eyes profusely before adding, "Except unlike me, you wouldn't ever regain your sight." For a small moment, his eyes turned a lilac colour before turning back to pale blue. "I'll be able to see by the end of the night. It's not an issue."

"But… what about your arm?" I coughed.

Theodore smiled, "This wouldn't have happened to you," he informed, "Light is warm, but it's not strong enough to burn skin usually."

"So, I made a fire?" My voice was cracking.

He reached a hand out to me, blindly finding my arm and holding my hand. "Anya, none of this was your fault. Just… a miserable series of circumstances," he informed. "My magic is what's called Dark Magic. It's what allows me to apparate from one place to another. I was on the opposite side of the garden, saw what would happen, and shadow-jumped to get to you in time. While I'm a shadow, light can hurt me," he explained. "That's all this is. Unfortunate exposure to your Light." He made an absent smile, "If anything, it's my fault."

"How?" I sniffed.

"What was one of the first things I told you about fairies?" he asked.

I hiccupped, making him smirk as he waited. "You… you told me that they're nicknamed Fortune Fairies and… and that… that they like new things…" At the moment, I could scarcely remember anything he'd told me.

Theodore sighed as he sat up straighter, "I also said they have very little control over what kind of luck they give people," he informed, "I have no doubt Aine and the others were just trying to help you, but they have just as little knowledge about things as you do. I ignored the fact that they had taken a liking to you and left you alone with them. They never intended to cause harm to you, Anya, they were just unlucky, and you were just unlucky." His hand gave mine a gentle squeeze. "It was an accident, Anya. I don't blame you."

I had never heard that said to me before. I don't blame you.

He turned in Gaelle's direction, "Gaelle, did you manage to finish that task I gave you last week?" he asked.

Gaelle silently walked across the room, opening a small box hidden on one of the shelves and pulling out a toy. When she returned, I saw she held a bunny toy that I hadn't seen in years. "I did a little digging and saw that a certain someone had a little bunny plushie," Theodore informed as Gaelle handed it to me. "I was hoping to give this to you at a bit of a happier time. But I hate to hear you sad."

The toy was a real shock to see. I remember my Aunty taking this off me and telling me big girls don't sleep with toys. I never thought I'd see it again. If its brown fur weren't so soft, I would've believed this was the actual toy that was taken from me. It was the exact same, right down to the small tear in its left ear.

It was a slow movement and a strange one for me to make, as I shuffled closer to him, his hand losing mine and a look of confusion forming as he blindly watched me. I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, crawling onto his lap and hugging him. I could feel my body trembling against him as I held him tightly when he shifted away from me.

His hands froze in the air, unsure where to put them in the hug. I felt so awkward and thought perhaps I had misread how comfortable I was with Theodore. But I felt his hand rest on my back, his other one slowly following as he leaned his head next to mine.

The hug was a silent one.

Theodore's embrace was warmer than before, somehow calming me down as I took deep breaths, inhaling his strangely calming scent.

I thought I had been trembling, but it was Theodore. His left side strained to hold me against the tightly wound bandages and possible pain he was in. I knew it was selfish, but I held him tighter when he tried to pull away, craving to tell him that I cared about him silently. He readjusted his arms and adjusted me, placing me on his lap, a broad smile plastered to his face. "What?" I asked.

"First time you hugged me," he stated simply, "I can see why people describe a hatchling's love as genuine."

I wouldn't describe what I just did as an act of love, but I didn't correct him as he rolled his sore shoulder. "No more tears?" he asked.

I sniffed, wiping my eyes a final time as I breathed out and hugged my bunny. "I'm fine."

Theodore nodded his head, "Excellent." He pressed his right hand against his left shoulder, sneering as he adjusted something. "I'm declaring tomorrow an official day off," he proclaimed, startling even Gaelle, who was behind him. "I already suck at teaching. Imagine how much worse I'll be when I'm trying to heal this."

Gaelle flicked his ear, a raised eyebrow at our Master. Theodore grumbled, "I mean Gaelle trying to heal this."

Gaelle smirked as she folded her arms. She stood by me and held a hand out for me to take. Confused, I took it, and she touched Theodore on the shoulder, offering small taps in some sort of language. Theodore nodded as Gaelle helped him stand, "I'm going to retire to my room for the evening," he informed, "Gaelle tells me you've been asleep most of the afternoon. She'll fix you something to eat, and then you can go back to sleep when you get tired. Since it's past midnight, I'd say that was one hell of a nap."

I looked around the living room for a clock, but it was too dark to see the time. Gaelle made some more taps along Theodore's shoulder. He waved his hand like he was dismissing her, "Make sure Anya is all settled, then you turn in as well, Gaelle. You've had quite the evening too."

Gaelle dipped her head before taking my hand and guiding me out the door. She let my hand go when we got to the hallway, her disappearing into the kitchen. I hugged the bunny close to me as I looked back at Theodore. He held his side as he got up and made an odd face, more like his situation was inconvenient rather than he was in pain. Seeing him like that worried me, making me wonder if everything from before was just some ruse.

Before I could dwell on it, Gaelle put her hands on my shoulders, looking in on Theodore herself, a moment of concern washing over her, before she too became indifferent and gestured for me to go in the kitchen.