Chapter 8: No Ordinary Boy

[July 7, 1962]

"Arthur, wake up, my dear. Today is your big day!" I was woken up with absolutely no mercy — a kiss on the forehead, and all my dreams of sleeping in vanished. Where were my rights to sleep until noon? I should file a complaint with the UN for this violation… Oh, right, I'm not even human anymore. Well, I never really wanted to be, anyway.

"Maybe the big day can wait until noon?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes — which, as always, was a mistake.

"You're so cute!" And then I was squeezed between two soft, warm pillows. I might have enjoyed it, but alas, I'm currently incapacitated in that department. All I could do was blush and feel embarrassed.

"All right, all right, you win!"

"Haha, mama wins again!" Ariel laughed, her voice musical as she hopped off my bed and headed for the kitchen.

God, I keep forgetting she's just a girl herself. But at least it's clear she's become so much happier and more open. If I ever had a worm of conscience gnawing at me for using her as an incubator, it died long ago and hasn't bothered me since. So I got up and dressed in my favorite white shorts and shirt. At least this way, I'd look like a proper white man.

***

We lived in a small two-room apartment in the dormitory. The great thing about being a mage is that you can furnish your room however you like. Don't like the wallpaper? Change it with a flick of your wand. Hate the wardrobe? One wave, and it's a new shape.

Ariel really went wild with this. Over the past two years and nine months, she'd studied nearly every textbook and several collections of household spells. If you just learn the wand movements and don't get bogged down in theory, you can pick up a lot in a short time, especially with constant practice.

So this week, I lived in a room with blue butterflies fluttering over green grass — and they actually moved when you looked at them. The floor was covered with a beige shag carpet, and the furniture — wardrobe, dresser, single bed, table, two chairs, and bookshelves — was all walnut wood in Art Nouveau style.

Why this week? Because I should never have told her about "Muggle" styles. Really, I shouldn't have. Now, every week, the style of the whole apartment changes, and honestly, it's kind of fun. Ariel skips around like a fairy, changing everything with a wave of her wand.

Of course, this kind of abuse shortens the furniture's lifespan, but we buy everything at flea markets for pennies, then repair and disinfect it with magic, so it doesn't hurt the wallet.

It's strange, sleeping on second-hand furniture when you have seven million dead presidents in your account, but there's no way to withdraw them yet — let alone explain where they came from.

***

After a delicious breakfast of toast with jam, scrambled eggs with bacon, and coffee, Jacqueline and Apolline came to visit — the two biggest thorns in my new life.

"Here's the birthday boy! Look how big he is!" My second mother's friend scooped me up in a bear hug.

"Let me go, woman! This is harassment!" I tried to wriggle free, knowing it was pointless.

"What are you feeding him, Ariel? Why is he so smart? My Apolline wasn't like this at his age," Jacqueline teased, still not letting me go.

"I just have a smart mama, so I'm smart too," I said, finally managing to escape.

"Wait, are you saying I'm stupid? Come here, you brat! Aunt Jacqueline will teach you to respect your elders!"

"You mean old people?"

"Arrr, I'll show you old!" She lunged at me, but I was already at the door.

"Sorry, but I'm not interested in old ladies!" And with that, I dashed out before she could catch me. She really could tear my ears off.

The last thing I heard as the door closed was Ariel's musical laughter and Jacqueline's mock-outraged shriek. She enjoys our banter, but she'll never admit it.

***

As we walked from the tall wooden gates — bound with iron and carved with plant motifs — I made a show of rubbing my red ears and pouting. Yes, they caught me and boxed my ears, but it was worth it.

Where were we going, with Apolline chattering away and Jacqueline and Ariel deep in conversation? To Flower Alley, of course — the main magical street of Paris, and really, all of France.

We were heading to the checkpoint, where the public fireplace connected to the Floo Network was located. As I understood it, modern wizards use three main methods of instant transportation.

There's the portkey — a one-time enchanted object that takes you to a specific place.

Apparition — basically poking a hole in hyperspace and dragging yourself through it, but only to places you know well.

And the Floo Network, which works like a magical telephone: there are nodal points — fireplaces — and lines between them. You step inside, toss in a handful of Floo powder (which burns with enough mana for travel), and say your destination.

***

I was also thinking about the veela charm aura. No one really knows how it works — veelas don't care, as long as it does, and if wizards know, they're not telling. But if you gather all the little facts I know and combine them with Sumerian knowledge, a picture starts to form:

1. The aura first appears at puberty, after the first menstruation.

2. It doesn't just affect men, but specifically the gender you're attracted to. For example, a lesbian veela's aura affects women — and it's strongest on those you personally find attractive.

3. It's definitely not pheromones, since it works instantly and isn't affected by wind.

4. Without training, or during strong arousal, the aura works unconsciously.

So, most likely, the mechanism is mental or empathic, working subconsciously — very much like the natural heat cycle in animals. It's a way to signal that the veela is ready to mate. And judging by the fact that, despite their small numbers, our magical people haven't disappeared, it works.

Even in liberal France, deliberately subjugating a wizard with your aura is a crime — almost on par with using the Imperius curse. Only unconscious aura emissions, which are easily blocked by an amulet, go unpunished. It also depends on age: if a child or teen does it, people look the other way, but for an adult, it's like wetting yourself in public. Not fatal, but you won't escape the shame.

***

Veelas don't have traditional clothing or culture, mostly because they usually adopt the beliefs and culture of their husbands. There are traditional holidays, though — like Magical Peoples' Independence Day and the veela coming-of-age ceremony. No one ever told me about the latter, though I was always curious.

We reached a small wooden guardhouse, where everyone who wants to visit our forest — shared with centaurs and werewolves — has to register. The guards, as tradition dictates, were a werewolf and a veela. Centaurs, because of their size and physiology, patrol the borders.

"Hi, Jacqueline! Out for a walk with the little one?" The veela in a gray cloak, standing outside and cooling herself with a breeze from her wand, greeted us. Fire is fire, but sometimes you want a little coolness.

"Oh, and who's this with you? Do we know each other?"

"This is Ariel and Arthur," Jacqueline introduced us, not mentioning my gender. It's much easier to let people draw their own conclusions. "We're celebrating a birthday!"

"What a cutie!" I hate veelas for this — why do they always have to squeeze you?

"What a lovely girl!"

"I'm a boy!" I pouted, putting on my best offended face.

"Of course, a boy!" she winked, and didn't bring it up again.

I told you, wizards are pretty relaxed about other people's quirks. A girl wants to call herself a boy? Her business. Wears a nightgown with galoshes? Go for it! At school, though, I'll have to be more careful — the uniform makes it obvious who's a boy and who's a girl.

The werewolf guard watched us with an indifferent expression, clearly used to veela oddities. Werewolves are easy to spot — not just because of their full moon transformations, but their sturdy build, beast-like features, and physical strength.

If a werewolf tries to deny their nature, suppressing the beast, they wither and weaken, losing their strength. Their society is extremely hierarchical, with an alpha at the top. Veelas, on the other hand, have no central authority — they're a commune.

How do such different societies coexist? Well, let's just say werewolves become obedient puppies if veelas want it, and they sense another strong beast in us.

Ahead of us, a man and his son entered the fireplace — the boy looked about Apolline's age, but with werewolves, you never know. I only caught a glimpse, but I made a mental note: someday, I'd like to study a werewolf. Not their transformation, but their physical strength in human form. How does it work? Different muscle structure? Prana, mana? Fascinating.

***

"Arthur, what are you daydreaming about? Let's go!" While I was lost in thought, my friend and her mom had already gone ahead, and Ariel was waiting for me.

She came over, scooped me up with one arm, grabbed a handful of powder with the other, and tossed it into the flames, which flared green. Then she stepped inside. The fire didn't burn at all — it was strange, almost pleasant.

Making a mental note to research this powder later, I heard, "Flower Alley," and after a blur of other fireplaces, we stepped out into one of a dozen public fireplaces disguised as bushes. The bushes were enchanted — they parted and even shook the ash off us. So polite.

I just stared, mouth open. No wonder it's called Flower Alley: flowers of every shape, color, and size twisted and grew everywhere, filling the air with delightful scents. Beautiful butterflies, just as varied, fluttered from bloom to bloom.

Every house, built in 17th- or 18th-century style, was almost completely covered in vines. Beneath the windows, bushes and flowerbeds overflowed. Each owner seemed to compete with their neighbors for the most elaborate or beautiful display — and I bet that's exactly what was happening.

"What, first time here? Impressed?" Jacqueline asked.

"That's an understatement! It's way better than Diagon Alley." And then I realized I'd said too much.

"How do you know what it's like there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My mom told me!" Thank Merlin, she really had.

"Well, yes, we really are more beautiful. We protect nature, unlike those island barbarians. So, shall we go have fun?" Jacqueline clapped her hands.

"And whose birthday is it, anyway? Mine or yours?"

"What do you think? You're the birthday boy," Ariel said, setting me down. She really is the best. I almost teared up.

"Of course, let's go have fun!" What am I, an idiot to say no?

***

Knowing Ariel was careful with money, I didn't push for expensive entertainment. We wandered through shops, looked at clothes, and ate ice cream at a café. Some flavors, by the way, could run away and resist being eaten — not my thing, but Apolline chased a squealing ball of raspberry sweetness all over the place.

Then we just strolled, admiring the architecture and the riot of nature. When evening came, I was showered with gifts. Jacqueline gave me a child's broom — it couldn't go very fast or rise above two meters, but I loved it. Especially since I could take it apart and improve it.

Apolline gave me a wreath she'd woven herself, and Ariel… gave me the bracelet and wand. I kissed everyone on the cheek. The adult veelas just smiled, but my friend blushed like a tomato, which made the others laugh even more.

***

"Ariel, are you sure it's wise to give Arthur those things so early? You don't know what your… liberator might have left inside. And you even gave him a wand — what if he gets hurt?" Jacqueline scolded her friend after the children had fallen asleep.

Tonight, we were staying at her house — everyone was too tired to go home after such a long day.

"I trust Viktor didn't leave anything dangerous. And as for the wand, you saw yourself how smart my son is. He already knows how to use fire at such an early age. Even if it's in our blood, he's a genius!" Ariel said, pride in her voice.

"You know, sometimes he scares me," Jacqueline admitted, looking skeptically at her friend. "No, not literally. It's just that he speaks so clearly, expresses his thoughts so well, sometimes it feels like he's an adult in a child's body."

"I think it's a good thing he's so aware," Ariel replied thoughtfully.

"Why? What's good about it if he has no childhood?" Jacqueline asked, heading for the kettle. "Tea, coffee, or something stronger?"

"Tea, please. Two spoons of sugar."

"Think about it — he might be the only male veela in history. I've never heard of such a thing. If he were just a child, what would he do?"

"Blab to everyone?" Jacqueline caught Ariel's meaning, waving her wand so the kettle heated itself and poured steaming water into two mugs.

"Exactly! And if he didn't blab, he'd give himself away in little things. I have no idea how society will react to him. I'm not sure I can protect him alone. And what if other veelas find out? Can you imagine what they'd do?"

"You think they'd use him as a breeding bull? You're exaggerating," Apolline's mother said, handing over a mug of fragrant tea.

"Even so, at the very least, he'd never have a normal life. Cunning veelas would throw their daughters at him, and if that didn't work, there might be setups," Ariel replied, sipping her tea.

"You stayed in England too long. We don't do things like that here!" Jacqueline protested. "Are you saying I'm pushing Apolline at him?"

"I'm not talking about you. I know you, I trust you. But can you speak for everyone? If people saw a chance to make our race independent, are you sure no one would take advantage?"

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't think of that," Jacqueline admitted. "So what do you want to do? Dress him as a girl?"

"Arthur's doing a good job misleading people on his own. If we start hiding his gender on purpose, it'll just make people suspicious. Especially since, when he goes to school, the truth will come out anyway. No, it's enough that he doesn't use veela abilities around strangers. Here in the coven, they'll think he's a girl. And…"

"And wizards will think he's a boy! Brilliant! But what if the truth comes out?"

"What truth? That their expectations were wrong — that's their problem. Besides, Arthur will give himself away with his charm aura sooner or later. I just hope it doesn't affect men," Ariel said, and both women shuddered at the thought.

***

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