Conjurative Illusions

Conjurative Illusions

Springtime at Hogwarts. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the lake was glistening, and Sirius Black was learning how to turn harmless quills into huge, pointy, gruesome spikes of doom.

"This," he said, looking up from his book and staring blindly across the lake, "is bloody brilliant. Listen to this. It's not ordinary transfiguration at all. It's--" He scanned the page to find the term. "It's Illusionary Transfiguration. The things don't change shape at all -- just the air around them, just enough to give the impression of a complete transfiguration, it even feels like it's been transfigured completely, but you don't have to worry about suddenly dealing with huge iron spikes or -- are you even listening to me?"

On the grass beside him, Remus made a noise that probably wasn't an affirmative. Sirius looked down, scowled, and poked Remus' shoulder. "Stop falling asleep," he said. His command went unheeded. Sirius plucked a handful of grass and threw it at Remus' head, which was resting none-too-comfortably on an open Transfiguration textbook. "I'm trying to save your sorry arse from Transfiguration disgrace, you know."

Still, no response. He tossed a few more handfuls of grass, then a few leaves and twigs, just for good measure. It probably wasn't the best way to wake somebody up, but it was quite funny to watch Remus' nose scrunch up under the onslaught.

Finally giving up, Sirius sighed dramatically and returned his attention to the book. It was a universal truth of existence that one could never have too many ways of conjuring huge gruesome spikes -- or even the illusion of huge gruesome spikes. It wasn't his fault the present company was too unconscious to realise it.

He read for several more minutes. Gruesome spikes, he was delighted to discover, were only the beginning. A complex expansion of the spell could create gaping holes in solid floors, wooden doorways in stone walls, desolate wastelands in lush gardens -- the possibilities were endless.

"I am studying," Remus said suddenly. He pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at Sirius through half-closed eyes, looking altogether too dishevelled and disgruntled for anything good to come of it.

Ignoring the tiny tightening in his chest, Sirius looked away quickly and snorted. "Right. So tell me, Mr. Lupin, what have we learned about the Conjurative Illusionary class of enchantments today?"

"Bugger your conjuring," Remus replied, dropping his head back onto his book and draping an arm across his eyes. "I'm studying napping. It's too bright. Turn the sun down, would'ya, since you're so clever?"

"Didn't know they had a NEWT in napping, mate."

"They do. Napping, Advanced Napping, Napping Under Duress -- which includes napping while being bombarded by foliage--"

"You're drooling on your book."

Remus wiped his face quickly. "Am not."

"Are too. Listen, this is brilliant, we can use this -- 'the key advantage that Conjurative Illusions have over ordinary transfigurations is the highly flexible and adaptive capabilities of the charm, which allows a wizard to use one simple spell to achieve a wide variety of results--'"

Groaning, Remus hid behind his arm once again. When he spoke his voice was muffled but his annoyance was clear. "Sirius, I don't care. Do you really need all that practice reading aloud? You were coming along so well, you know, reading all by yourself--"

"Shut it, you stupid arse. I'm trying to learn here. I never mock you when you're trying to learn."

"Yes, you do. All the time, in fact. Like yesterday, with the Astronomy charts--"

"That was--"

"And the day before, with the History essay--"

"Well, History--"

"And Friday, with the Potions experiment--"

Sirius bit his lip for a moment, but it was no use. He laughed out loud. "C'mon, Moony! That was funny! I've never seen Professor Poultice move that fast."

There was a long, ominous silence. Then, a snicker. "Yeah, okay. That was funny. But my point--"

"I was wondering if you had one of those."

"--my point is that you can read all about conjuggling-whatsit-stuff all you want, but I don't want to hear about it right now, okay?"

"Well. Fine, then," Sirius snapped. "Don't let me interrupt your beauty sleep."

He stared down at the book again, but suddenly the glare seemed too bright, the words too small. A breeze rose and rustled the pages quickly. Sirius gazed along the shore of the lake, which was crowded with students studying and laughing, walking and talking. The giant squid was swimming lazy circles at the base of the cliffs, and a pair of brave Hufflepuffs were rowing a little boat closer and closer. Every few moments, the wind carried a bark of command across the grounds from the Quidditch pitch. Ravenclaw was practicing, obviously; nobody had lungs quite like the Ravenclaw captain.

"Am I really that annoying about--?" Sirius looked down.

Remus had fallen asleep again.

He watched Remus sleep for a few moments, then looked down at his book.

"Sorry," Sirius whispered. "I don't mean -- well."

He flipped to the index of the book and ran his finger down the page until he found the proper words, then turned back to the Conjuring Illusions. Drawing his wand from his pocket, he practiced a few times, muttering under his breath and tracing a pale line of magic in the air. Nodding absently, he turned and touched the tip of his wand to Remus' open textbook and whispered a few words. The book shimmered briefly, then changed, smoothly and silently, into a soft white pillow.

Sirius reached out and plucked a few leaves from Remus' hair, brushed his fingers lightly along Remus' neck, let his hand rest for the briefest moment on Remus' shoulder.

Then, smiling, he went back to his reading.