Page 19 of Magic in My Bones

I paused just outside the door, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Through the leaded glass, I could see the shadowy forms of people moving about inside, their laughter and chatter drifting out into the evening air. With a final surge of courage, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was everything a witch's cottage should be. Overstuffed armchairs were draped with hand-knitted throws, knick-knacks everywhere, and a hearth fire that changed colors based on the mood of the room. Someone had enchanted houseplants to grow in impossible ways, creating living archways between different conversation nooks. The whole space felt like stepping into the kind of home I'd always dreamed of having someday. It was a place where magic and comfort intertwined so naturally you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

As I hovered uncertainly in the doorway, a familiar figure detached itself from the crowd and made its way towards me. Professor Crowe wore a deep burgundy sweater, dark trousers, and a warm smile. “Ren! I'm so glad you could make it.”

My cheeks flushed at his earnest welcome. “Sorry I'm late, Professor. I got a bit... distracted.”

Professor Crowe chuckled, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “No worries. These things aren’t really so formal.People come and go as they please. We're just happy to have you here.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, steering me towards the center of the room. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of the other members.”

Professor Crowe guided me into the heart of the gathering, his reassuring presence at my side. As we wove our way through the clusters of students, I spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd. There was Juniper, the elfin girl with the hummingbird familiar who always seemed to have her nose buried in some ancient tome. She caught my eye and waved, her smile warm and welcoming.

We passed by a group engaged in a lively discussion about the merits of various divination techniques. I recognized Orion from my divination basics class. They had an uncanny knack for reading tea leaves and were busy doing a reading for two others.

In the corner, a trio of students were practicing wandless magic, their fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air. Among them was Leif from my sigil study group with his shock of bright purple hair. He grinned at me as we passed, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Professor Crowe led me to a table laden with an assortment of drinks and snacks. The aroma of spiced cider and pumpkin bread filled the air, making my mouth water. “Help yourself,” he said, handing me a steaming mug. “Maeve's infamous cinnamon hot chocolate. It's a crowd favorite.”

I took a sip, letting the rich, velvety liquid warm me from the inside out. It was like a hug in a mug, warm with just the right amount of spice.

As I savored the comforting flavors of the hot chocolate, Professor Crowe smiled at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Go on, Ren. Enjoy yourself. Mingle. That’s what these events are for.”

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the mug of hot chocolate. “I'm not really sure where to start,” I admitted. “I've never been to anything like this before.”

Professor Crowe's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “That's okay, Ren. Everyone here knows what it's like to feel out of place. But I promise you, this is a safe space. No one here will judge you.”

His words were like a balm to my frayed nerves, and I felt some of the tension drain from my body. I took another sip of the hot chocolate, letting its warmth fortify me. “Thanks, Professor. I appreciate that.”

He smiled, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before dropping his hand. “Attaboy. I'll be around if you need anything.”

As he melted back into the crowd, I took a moment to gather my courage. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter, a warm hum of camaraderie that I desperately wanted to be a part of.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, making my way towards a group of students gathered around a low table. They were engaged in what appeared to be a spirited game of tarot, the colorful cards spread out before them. As I approached, one of them looked up and smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with welcome.

“Hey there,” she said, scooting over to make room for me. “I'm Raven. Want to join us?”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, settling onto the plush cushion beside her. “I'm Ren,” I offered, setting my mug of hot chocolate on the table. “I'm new to all this.”

Raven grinned, sweeping her long, black hair over one shoulder. “We'll show you the ropes. Ever played tarot before?”

I shook my head, eyeing the cards with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “No, but I'm willing to learn.”

The others at the table introduced themselves. There was Lorcan, a willowy non-binary person with a shock of green hair, and Duncan, a burly guy with a beard that seemed to have a life of its own. They walked me through the basics of the game, their easy banter and gentle teasing putting me at ease.

As the evening wore on, I found myself relaxing into the warmth of the gathering. The conversation flowed effortlessly, ranging from the mundane details of coursework to magic theory.

Around us, the common room buzzed with activity. A group of students huddled around a scrying mirror, their faces illuminated by the swirling mists within. In the corner, a pair of witches were engaged in a heated debate over the merits of using sage versus rosemary in cleansing rituals. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and spices, mingling with the warm aroma of pumpkin bread.

The tarot game wound down, and the group began to disperse. I found myself lingering, not quite ready to let go of the warm camaraderie of the evening. I busied myself with tidying the cards, my fingers tracing the intricate designs etched into their weathered surfaces.

The common room had taken on a softer, more intimate atmosphere. The once-roaring fire had died down to glowing embers, casting a gentle warmth over the room. Shadows danced along the stone walls, playing hide-and-seek with the flickering candlelight.

As I placed the last of the tarot cards back in their worn velvet pouch, I became aware of a presence beside me. I glanced up to find Professor Crowe, his green eyes soft in the dim light. He smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that made my heart skip a beat.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I'm glad you decided to come.”

I ducked my head, feeling a flush creep up my neck. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Professor Crowe settled into the armchair beside me, his long legs stretched out before him. In the flickering light of the dying fire, his features took on an almost ethereal quality, the planes and angles of his face softened by the warm glow. He leaned back, his posture relaxed and open, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he studied me.

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