Archive of Our Own

Nestled just on the edge of a small town in upstate New York, the Lightwood House stood proud on its sprawling properties. For generations, it had been the seat of magic in the county, tucked away from the rest of the world first to protect its residents from accusations of witchcraft and keep mortals at bay.

According to Alec’s mother, at least. Izzy claimed it’s because the Lightwoods were an antisocial bunch and had vacated their townhouse as soon as they could once “cocktail parties” had become a thing. Alec was inclined to agree with her, but he didn’t mind. The last thing he wanted was to be elbow to elbow with a bunch of nosy mortals.

Which was why, when he neared the end of the long driveway leading up to the Lightwood House, he groaned. Intricately carved jack-o-lanterns lined the porch, and string lights shaped like ghosts wrapped around the railing of the veranda, stretching around the house. Sitting on the porch swing was a plastic skeleton, hand shaped into a welcoming web, and a sign around his neck that said “HAPPY HALLOWEEN.”

Alec put the car in park and dropped his head against the steering wheel.

Why tonight?  he thought. Why tonight, of all nights?

It was worse inside. Usually stately and dignified, the the foyer was covered in fake spiderwebs and caution tape. Bloody handprints covered the walls, and streamers of orange and black were wrapped around the bannister. Music blared through the house, impossibly loud no matter where Alec went, a roar of chatter came from the entryway to the parlor. Stragglers, apparently not interested in the rest of the party, were clustered together on the staircase or leaning against walls.

“Alec! Hi!”

Alec looked up. Clary Fray, the pint-sized redhead Jace had been hopelessly trying to woo for the last year, jumped up from where she was perched on the staircase. Dressed as a genie, she wore a pair of gauzy pants and a pink, beaded top. Next to her, a queasy looking Simon Lewis in a matted wig was dressed as some kind of 80s rocker.

“Jace just went to look for you. How are you? Isn’t this crazy?”

“It sure is,” said Alec drily. “Have either of you seen my sister?”

At the mention of Izzy, Simon perked up instantly. “She went to the kitchen,” he said, pushing a strand of long, blonde hair from his face. “To get more punch.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Alec took off. He found Izzy in the hall leading to the kitchen, talking to an attractive young man dressed like a doctor and smiling into a plastic cup shaped like a skull.

“I need to borrow my sister for a second,” Alec said without preamble. He grabbed his sister by the arm, steering her into the kitchen. He rolled his eyes. A cauldron of punch sat on the table, surrounded by a sea of food and other drinks -- carrot sticks designed to look like fingers, caramels shaped like spiders, an entire fleet of cakepops standing proudly. The counters were already littered with plastic cups.

“Alec,” Izzy said when he released her,  eyebrows raised expectantly,“What’s wrong with you? Where’s your costume?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Alec asked incredulously. “What’s wrong with you? What are all those people doing there?”

Izzy shrugged. She wasn’t dressed very differently from usual -- black dress, black boots, but topped off with a perfectly pointed witch’s hat. Alec snorted. Very original.

“It’s just a few friends.”

“Just a few friends?” Alec repeated. “Izzy, I think half of the school is here. Maybe over half. Mom specifically said that when she was in the Other Realm -- ”

“Oh, I know what Mom said,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “So what? I can have the place cleaned up like that.” She snapped her fingers to illustrate her point. The counters cleaned themselves of garbage. The sink clattered with the sound of cutlery washing itself. “Mom will never know.”

Alec’s gaze shot to the arch leading in from the hall, and he waved a hand. The dishes fell to the bottom of the sink with a loud crash. “Izzy, there are people here ,” he hissed.

“I know, I know. You think I’m stupid? I have eyes in the halls. I have things under control.”

“Oh, great. You have things under control.” Alec threw a hand up. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter that you invited over half of the school --”

“-- I only invited a few people, but --”

“-- On All Hallow’s Eve, of all nights --”

“ -- All Hallow’s Eve ,” Izzy repeated, adopting a stuffy accent. “God, you sound like Mom. It’s just a Halloween party, Alec.”

A loud ding! filled the room; the two of them both turned to watch as the oven door snapped open. A pumpkin shaped cake floated out of the oven, already frosted to perfection, and settled itself on an empty space on the counter. Izzy made a hum of approval, and darted toward it.

Alec rounded the island, blocking her way. “It’s not just some mundane excuse for partying, Izzy,” he said. “The veil is thin tonight. You have no idea what could happen -- and what is in that?” Alec pulled the plastic cup from Izzy’s hands as she went to take a sip, sloshing some of the contents onto the floor. “Is this alcohol?”

Izzy shifted guiltily. She snapped her fingers, and the cup materialized back in her hands.

Alec snapped his fingers, and it was in his hand again.

Izzy snapped her fingers.

They passed a few moments, angrily snapping their fingers back and forth. Alec could hear the Monster Mash blaring from the hallway. When the cup materialized in his hands again, it erupted into flames.

“You didn’t have to --”

“Cool trick.”

Both Alec and Izzy snapped their heads toward the hallway. The cup melted down to a lump of plastic in Alec’s hand, but he couldn’t feel it. Standing the doorway, clad in all black and smiling as if he knew some kind of secret, stood Magnus Bane.

“I-- um, I -- hi.”

Off to the side, Izzy snickered. And then, her hat went flying off her head, as if pulled off by a gust of wind.

“Hello, Alexander,” said Magnus, languidly pushing himself off the doorway. His costume looked as if it had been thrown together last minute -- fine whiskers drawn on his cheeks with eyeliner, and a cat ear headband sitting slightly askew in his perfect hair. Typical Magnus -- he didn’t have to try too hard to look good. The most convincing part of his costume were the contacts, golden irises cut through by a long black pupil. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”

“I -- uh, yeah. Soda?” There was something very strange about Magnus, particularly for a mortal, in that he had the ability to render Alec instantly speechless. Or stupid.

“Punch,” Izzy said with a wink.

“Punch,” Magnus repeated, mouth still curved into a grin. His eyes flicked from Izzy to Alec. He watched Alec expectantly, waiting a beat before asking, “Do you have cups?”

That seemed to break the spell. Alec jolted as if shocked. “I, uh -- yeah, um. Izzy. Cups?”

Izzy watched him in amusement, adjusting her hat. “There should be some by the sink.”

Alec turned to look behind him. He was certain there hadn’t been anything there, but when he turned, two plastic chalices, stems designed to look like skeletal hands, sat behind him. Tacky.

He grabbed one of them, and went to ladle punch into it. A deep red, it smelled as if someone had used cherry kool-aid to mask the scent of shoe polish. Vapor seemed to rise off of it, and Alec momentarily wondered if it had been warmed. He shot Izzy a look that said When this is all over, I’m going to kill you. And tell Mom.

You’re welcome , Izzy mouthed back, gaze flicking to Magnus. Alec could have strangled her.

“Here.” He handed the glass to Magnus. “I -- are you hungry?” He gestured toward the desert laden table.

Magnus hummed, taking a sip off his drink. He cast a cursory glance at the table, and then, slowly, lifted his gaze to Alec. “I suppose,” he said, at length, “I wouldn’t mind a treat.”

Heat climbed up Alec’s neck. “We have, um, cupcakes? Or whatever these are?” He held up one of the cake-pops. A cartoonish Dracula smirked up at Magnus, baring two tiny candy fangs.

Magnus’ coy smile broke into a full on grin; he shook his head, accepting the cake pop. “Thank you, Alexander. Are you planning on joining the party?”

“Oh, I don’t --”

“Yes,” Izzy answered for him. She rounded the island, and bumped Alec out of the way with her hip. “Thank you so much for your help, Alec, I couldn’t have done this all without you, but --” she reached behind him for the other skeletal goblet; when she handed it to Alec, it was mysteriously full “-- I think you should go have fun. I’ve got it from here.” Turning to Magnus, she said, “He’s all yours.”

And then, she had the audacity to wink.

I’m going to kill her . Alec thought. He could do it. He didn’t even need magic -- there were countless numbers of mundane ways he could kill his sister and hide her body before their parents got home.

“What’s the story?”

“Huh?”

Magnus gave a wave in Alec’s general direction. “Your costume?”

“Oh.” Alec looked down. He was wearing what he had worn to class that day -- dark jeans, dark shirt, nothing special. He fiddled with the stem of his glass, and shrugged. “I didn't really plan on one.”

"No costume?" With a raised eyebrow, Magnus waved to the rest of the room. "And yet you’re throwing the biggest Halloween party this town has ever seen.”

Alec looked out at the grand parlor, a pained expression on his face. Everywhere he looked, intoxicated teenagers in costumes were flagrantly ignoring his pleas to use coasters. He watched as a girl dressed as a mime stumbled, dribbling punch down her shirt and onto his mother’s antique sofa, and resisted the urge to wipe it away with the wave of his hand. When this was all over, Izzy would be cleaning the place. Alone. Without magic.

In the corner of the room, a few of his peers tried to pry open the china cabinet. He rolled his eyes; he had mortal-proofed every room he had walked in all evening, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

But then again, it was pretty hard to focus on anything else when Magnus Bane was standing next to him, so close that their arms could brush. Alec turned away from the chaos of the rest of the room, and was caught once again by Magnus’ mesmerizing gaze. His contact lenses were somewhat off-putting, and yet Alec couldn’t deny that they suited him. He had dyed his hair again, too -- just a streak of white lacing through his dark hair.  

“That wasn’t exactly my idea,” Alec said, staring down into his cup. His own reflection stared back at him, rippling through the dark red surface of the punch. He waved his hand toward the room. “Izzy planned -- this.”

“Not a fan of Halloween?”

Alec had never been a fan. Things happened when the veil was thin -- strange things. While other children had spent Halloween dressed in costumes and asking for candy, Alec had spent it learning about magical protections, brewing potions, going to stuffy dinners back in the Other Realm. For years, it had been one of the many things that reminded him that he and his family were just not… normal. And for most of his life, Alec had longed to be normal.

“Not a fan of parties ,” Alec huffed. And then stopped. But Magnus liked parties. “I-- I mean, they’re alright, it’s just, you know -- I mean maybe--”

Magnus let out a laugh. “You’re not going to hurt my feelings, Alexander. They can certainly be… stressful.” He motioned with this cup. “Especially when someone is juggling what looks like a very expensive vase.”

Alec tore his gaze from Magnus just in time to see a guy dressed as Waldo dive for said vase. Cursing under his breath ( literally ), he dashed across the room just in time to rescue the vase from certain doom. Alec gently pried it from Waldo’s fingers and returned to Magnus. He didn’t think there were any vengeful spirits lurking at the bottom of the thing, but he would rather not test it.

“I swear,” Alec muttered. “They’re like children.”

“You don’t have to be their babysitter.”

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Alec cast another anxious glance out the room. A series of banging came from the foyer, and Alec resisted the urge to chase after it, acutely aware of Magnus’ gaze on him. He could hear his mother’s voice ringing in his ears, already reprimanding him for the chaos of the evening, even though it wasn’t his fault.

He was the oldest. It always came down to that -- it didn’t matter whether it was Izzy throwing a party or Jace harnessing the Spirits of the Dark to do his homework for him. It was his job to keep them in check.

He looked over at Magnus. Magnus lifted his cup to his lips, one eyebrow arched, and took a long, slow sip.

Alec hesitated -- just for a moment. To hell with it. He took a big gulp of his drink, and the burn of vodka racing down his throat left him spluttering. It was worth it, though, to hear Magnus’ laugh.

“Hey,” Magnus said, turning to face Alec more clearly. He shuffled a little, gaze darting around -- from his cup, to the party, then back to Alec. “Would you want to maybe go somewhere a bit more… private?”

“There’s no way.”

“Honest to --”

“There’s no way --”

“Alexander, do you think I would lie to you?” Magnus asked, face broken out in a lopsided grin. His cheeks were flushed -- just a little, but it was all the more apparent with the penciled-on whiskers.

“And you got away with it?” Alec aimlessly fiddled with the cup in his hand, picking at a flaking piece of plastic. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Magnus.

“Do you think I would be sitting here if my father knew about that?” Magnus laughed. “I heard enough about it from Catarina, that’s for sure.”

Catarina. Alec shifted a little. He had heard that name a lot -- normally in the rumors that had been swirling about campus ever since Magnus’ sudden arrival at the beginning of senior year and, most recently, from Magnus himself. A small, nostalgic smile touched Magnus’ lips; it was a familiar look, one that usually came about when he was reminiscing over his old school, his old friends. Alec’s stomach churned. How could he ever live up to that?

They were in the library. Alec wasn’t sure how long it had been since they had snuck upstairs. What had begun as a private tour of the house (emphasis on private ; anyone else who attempted to follow them found themselves mysteriously tumbling down the stairs as soon as they reached the first landing) had turned into an extended detour when Magnus had caught sight of the library.

It was one of Alec’s favorite rooms in the house. He had watched as Magnus darted around the room, running his fingers over the spines of old, leather bound books in reverence, and felt a painful twinge in his chest.

Sitting on the couch and sharing stories over a pilfered bottle of Izzy’s tequila, the same sense of confliction rose up in Alec. Magnus seemed to just… fit. Alec couldn’t place it, but he looked perfectly at home in the domed expanse of the library, the contours his face lit warmly in the lamplight. He radiated with a genuine curiosity about the house and about Alec’s family, rather than the hushed whispers that Alec had grown up with. They lived in completely different worlds. To Magnus, the library was boring, mundane; where he saw books about law  and history, Alec saw spellbooks, secrets of the arcane world, grimoires, all of them brimming with magic.

It was in the same room, years and years ago, that his mother had warned him against falling for a mortal. It would only end in heartbreak, she had said. Alec could hardly remember his father, but he recognized the forlorn look that crossed his mother’s face when she thought about him.

“Alec?”

Alec jolted at the soft touch of Magnus’ hand on his elbow. He caught Magnus’ gaze; concern was etched into his features.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said. “I’m sorry, I was just -- thinking.”

“That’s okay,” Magnus said. He shifted, crossing one leg over the other as he turned to face Alec more directly. Their legs were practically brushing. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Alec said, shaking the thought away. His eyes drifted down. If he shifted just a little, their legs would touch. This, he knew, would upset his mother more than any party.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” Magnus’ voice was soft, his hand on Alec’s elbow still light. The bottle of tequila was loosely nestled in the crook of his folded leg, but he seemed surprisingly lucid. “I’m always happy to hear what you have to say.”

There it was again -- that painful twist in Alec’s chest. Magnus had blown into his life so suddenly, a new student in a small town. Alec had barely been able to form words the first time they had spoken. Magnus had been so… new, and enigmatic, and so incredibly beautiful. Rumors circulated through the town about him and his father -- his father was a con-man, Magnus had been expelled from his previous school for violence, he was a wild card, he was dangerous.

He was a danger to Alec, certainly, but for all the opposite reasons; because he was witty, and he was kind, and he was brave.

And he was mortal.

“Do you ever…” Alec trailed off, then shook his head. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

Magnus hummed. “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Alec took a deep breath. He shifted, and his knee knocked against Magnus.’ It was the smallest of moves, and yet it had taken more strength than any spell he had ever performed.

“Do you ever worry about… not being the person your dad wants you to be?” Alec asked quietly.

Magnus huffed out a shaky laugh. He relaxed, and his knee pressed more insistently into Alec’s.

“All the time,” he said, voice soft. The room was dark, illuminated only by low lamps and the light of the rising moon outside, and warm. “This isn’t about the party, is it?”

That startled a laugh out of Alec; grinning, he lifted his gaze from his lap to Magnus. “No. I just -- my mom raised us on her own, and I just…” he took a deep breath. “I don’t want to disappoint her, but...”

Magnus’ grip of Alec’s elbow shifted; he trailed his fingers down Alec’s arm, sending goosebumps up his spine. When he reached Alec’s fingertips, he loosely took his hand in his own. Alec stared down at their joined hands, unable to reach Magnus’ gaze.

“...but you can’t live for other people. Alec, look at me.” Alec did, slowly; he was surprised. Magnus’ expression was no longer coy, nor playful. An uncharacteristic air of vulnerability seemed to surround Magnus. Alec wanted to wipe the concerned creases from Magnus’ face.

“I know how you feel,” Magnus said. His voice was quiet, and yet it filled the room.

Alec carefully untangled their fingers. He caught just a glance of the disappointment that flashed over Magnus’ face before he pressed his hands into the folds of Magnus’ jacket, pulling him forward into an uncertain kiss.

Surprise quickly gave way to enthusiasm; Magnus leaned into the kiss, hands pressing into Alec’s thighs. It was warm, and it was innocent, and it was exciting -- Alec felt like he could fly. In fact, it took all his willpower not to.

Magnus was the one who broke the kiss. He pulled back, slowly. His face was lit up in wonder, a breathless smile slowly breaking across it. Breathing shakily, Alec could tell that the same expression was mirrored on his own face.

And then -- no burst of smoke, no flash of light, no rain of glitter -- Magnus was gone.

Alec looked down, dumbfounded. Staring up at him through golden eyes was a black cat, crowned with a small shock of white fur on top of his head.

From downstairs, Alec heard a scream.

Alec stormed out of the library, the cat -- Magnus? -- cradled in his arms. His heart pounded in his chest, and he knew it was only a matter of time before rain started pouring from the hallway ceiling, or the busts started running their mouths. He took a deep breath -- magic was as stable as the one who used it, his mother had always told him. Deep breaths. Chin up. Focus. Learn how to control your feelings, don’t let them control you.

It was a lot easier said than done, Alec thought. Especially when your first kiss turned into a cat immediately after. Alec’s stomach churned. He looked helplessly at the cat in his arms; it was a lot calmer than he was. A deep purr rumbled through its body, vibrating soothingly against Alec’s chest.

He ran a hand over the cat’s head. “It’ll be okay.” He didn’t know who was reassuring -- himself, or the cat.

The hallway was quiet, he noticed. He could still hear the muffled braying of music from downstairs, yet he could no longer hear the cacophony of drunken voices. Outside, the cloudy skies had finally opened up; water pounded against the window panes, rattling the frames like a ghost.  

The sound of heavy footsteps came pounding down the hall. Alec looked up just in time to see Izzy breathlessly hit the second landing. She swung her head around frantically, peering through the dark hall. A bolt of lightning cracked through the night sky, momentarily silhouetting Alec against a backdrop of white light.

“Oh, thank God,” Izzy said, voice shaking with relief. Another bolt of lightning streaked through the night; it lit Izzy up, illuminating her with a ghostly, greenish pallor. “Alec -- the party --”

“Izzy, I don’t have time for your stupid party.”

“No, Alec, it’s important --”

“I need your help, I -- I did something.” Thunder rumbled outside; it was enough to startle Magnus, apparently. He let out a keening meow , claws sinking in to Alec’s arm.

Izzy’s gaze finally dropped to Alec’s arms. Her mouth dropped open. “Alec,” she said, slowly, “is that --”

“It’s Magnus,” Alec said. He ran a hand over Magnus’ head and down his back in a desperate attempt to calm the cat. “I don’t know what happened, Izzy, I -- we were in the library, I had all the protective charms up, and we were just talking, and then I kissed him, and all of a sudden he just -- he turned into a cat , and I tried to do a transmutation spell and it didn’t work and --”

“Wait,” Izzy cut him off, mouth curving up into a smile. “You kissed him? Alec, that’s great!”

“Great?” Alec repeated in disbelief. “Great? I kissed him and he turned into a cat ! I tried every spell I could think of, and none of them worked! He could be a cat forever, and it’s all my fault --”

“It’s not your fault, Alec, it’s --”

“Don’t try and comfort me, I --”

“It was the punch!”

Alec stopped. The sound of thunder boomed through the house. Izzy shuffled nervously. Magnus purred in Alec’s arms, completely unaware.

“What?”

“It was the punch,” Izzy repeated, miserable. “I don’t -- I followed a recipe on the internet, I made sure it was all completely new ingredients, there wasn’t anything magical near it at all, but… I did something to it.” She bit her lip, a telltale sign of struggle, and then turned to make her way back to the staircase.  “You should see this.”

The view from the staircase was chaos. Alec stared down in disbelief. No one had made it above the first landing due to his earlier enchantment, and he thanked every god he could think of (including a few that had died long ago) that he had made that call.  

In the foyer, where there had once been groups of teenagers clustered together on the steps of the staircase or spilling out from other rooms, there was now… everything else Alec could possibly think of.

A ghostly girl drifted through the wall, moaning as she disappeared off into a different part of the house.  A guy dressed as Spiderman was climbing up one of the walls, leaving a sticky residue all over the mahogany panelling. There was a vampire in the corner of the room, bored and howling with fury at the salt ring she had been trapped in. A bunny scampered through the foyer.

Everywhere he looked, there was something new. Some were better than others -- one girl who had come dressed as a hippie was just sitting on the floor and strumming a ukulele, and a girl in a bluish ballgown was crying on the steps of the staircase and waving a shoe around in the air. It was the other ones Alec worried about -- the monsters, and the animals, and the inanimate objects.

Alec’s stomach churned. He heard a loud yowling noise, accompanied by a sharp pain in his arm. He looked down in shock; he had been clutching Magnus too tight in his arms, and the cat had retaliated. He loosened his grip and patted Magnus gently on the head.

“What,” he asked, as calmly as he could, “the hell happened in here?”

“I told you,” Izzy said, “it was the punch.”

Alec cast her a dark look. Illuminated by the light of the chandelier, Alec could see that the shade of her skin hadn’t been a trick of the light -- Izzy was green. From head to toe, her skin was green, and it only seemed to be getting darker and darker.

“You didn’t use baby’s breath?”

“Of course I didn’t use baby’s breath. I’m not stupid.”

Alec raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look! I’m not! It’s just juice. Like, frozen punch mix from the store. And vodka. Obviously.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Where’s Jace?”

Izzy let out a groan. “Follow me.”

“Jace,” Izzy whined. “You ruined the cupcakes. Do you have any idea how hard I worked on those?”

“Yeah,” Alec said slowly, staring at the furry creature in the corner of the kitchen, “I don’t think he cares.”

Alec had never seen a werewolf in real life. Well, he had seen werewolves -- his mother was “just friends” with one who happened to be a police officer -- but he had never seen one post-transformation, other than in movies or in lithograph cuttings set into the pages of the 15th century grimoires his mother had taught him to read in.

(While the Lightwood children were considered incredibly gifted, there was a reason that spelling wasn’t necessarily their strong suit.)

The creature in the corner, Alec decided, was not the most flattering image of werewolves. The ones in his mother’s old books had at least had a semblance of dignity. They looked nothing like the furry creature, half-man and half-wolf, that was slumped on the floor in the kitchen, orange frosting caking its fur.

It looked up from the tray of cupcakes it was devouring, fixing Alec with a pair of golden, lupine eyes. Alec waved. The monster grunted. It seemed less than moved by Alec and Izzy’s appearance, until it caught sight of the cat bundled into Alec’s arms, and let out a howl that pierced through the kitchen.

Magnus hissed in return, fur standing up from his body. The monster in the corner of the room lumbered forward; Alec jolted backwards, cradling Magnus’ protectively against his chest.

“Oh, stop that,” Izzy said. With a flick of her fingers, Jace was silent, his mouth hanging open on an unheard howl. She flicked her fingers again; a collar snapped around his neck, chaining him to one of the cupboards. “Unbelievable,” Izzy muttered, rounding the corner of the island. She picked up the pan of cupcakes, poking at a few of them as if in attempt to make sense of the carnage, and then set it on the counter with a huff. She glared at Jace, a hand on her hip. “I hope it was worth it.”

“Don’t you have more important things to worry about?”

“You spend hours slaving over a hot stove and tell me how you would feel,” Izzy said, more to herself than to Alec. She grabbed the cauldron from the center of the island, and carried it over to Alec. “See? It’s just punch and alcohol.”

Alec peered down into the cauldron. His reflection stared up at him from a sea of red. Alec sniffed, then shook his head.

“Where did you get the vodka?”

“I asked Simon to bring it.” Izzy absentmindedly drummed her fingers against the cauldron, a dreamy smile on her face. “He got it from his sister.”

“So it’s mortal-made?”

“It should be.”

Alec sighed. He shook his head, attempting to dispel some of the noise. The sound of the rain pounding against the windows, Jace’s claws scratching against the floor, the annoying sound of Izzy’s nails as they tapped against the cauldron....

“Wait,” Alec said, dread rising in his chest. “Is that one of mom’s cauldrons?”

“Yeah? And?”

“Here, can you -- trade me.”

After a series of awkward, fumbling gestures, Alec held the cauldron in his hands while Izzy hugged Magnus against her chest, crooning and cooing at him.

Alec spread his fingers out over the surface of the cauldron, feeling for something that might guide him. After a few moments, he pressed his fingertips harder against the cauldron, staring down at his own concerned reflection.

Ever so slowly, it began to boil. Bubbles disrupted the image of his face, starting off small and slow before coming to a rolling boil. Izzy inched closer, and the two of them watched as the surface began to steam, thick tendrils of condensation rising into the air.

They began to knit together. A familiar warmth radiated through the air, the steam carrying traces of his mother’s magic. Alec watched as pictures formed in the steam, a scene slowly playing out in front of him.

“She made a transformation potion last,” Alec said. “For her client on the Other Side. It enables the wearer to take the form of that which he desires.” He huffed out a sigh, chasing the steam away; the punch in the bowl fell calm again. Alec crossed the room and emptied the remaining contents of the cauldron into the sink.

“Why would you use one of mom’s actual cauldrons, Izzy? Are you insane?”

“I didn’t know she had made --”

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know what she had made!” Alec snapped, bringing the now empty cauldron down, hard, on the counter. He whirled around to look at her. “Magic leaves traces. And on Halloween, of all nights -- what if she had been making something else? What if had been a poison, or a transportation potion? You could have killed someone!” His voice had become louder and louder; it practically shook the kitchen.

“I didn’t know!” Izzy shouted, matching his voice. Her skin was now a vibrant kelly green, and a streak of white had threaded its way into her hair. Magnus squirmed in her arms, then jumped down and pranced across the kitchen.

He pressed his head into Alec’s ankle. Still fuming, Alec leaned down and scooped the cat up. Once in Alec’s arms, Magnus pushed himself up, pressing his face against Alec’s cheek and humming. Alec let out a deep breath.

“So… now what?”

Alec shrugged. “We either figure it out ourselves, or we call Mom.”

That idea sat in the air for about a moment, and then Izzy shivered in revulsion. “I’ll take our odds.”

They spent the next fifteen minutes in the kitchen, zapping Jace with every transformation and reversion spell they could think of. Nothing seemed to click, though they did manage to clean the frosting from his matted fur.

Izzy let out a strangled scream of frustration. She screamed even louder when a hank of white hair fell into her face. “That’s it,” she said, pushing the offending lock behind her ear. “There has to be something upstairs we can use. What should we do about Jace?”

Alec glanced over at their brother, and shook his head. “Just leave him here. We’ll seal off the door.”

“Alec! Izzy!”

“Clary, not now --” Alec cut himself short, staring. Clary floated in mid-air, the lower half of her body seemingly consumed by a cloud of pink smoke. All around them, the room was swathed in chaos, and all Alec wanted to do was disappear upstairs until he could find some way to fix this.

Clary was talking, but Alec didn’t listen. It was the typical genie spiel -- three wishes, no asking for more wishes, and so on. Izzy slapped him on the arm as walked by, then yanked him back.

“Alec, it’s perfect,” she said. “We can just ask Clary --”

“Have you ever talked to a genie in your life?” Alec watched as Clary ascended toward the high ceiling of the foyer, glitter raining below her. “You ask them for one thing, and they give you everything but.”

Izzy chewed her lip. She looked at Alec, then up at Clary.

“Hey, Clary!” she called.

“What are you doing --”

“Relax, I’m just going to have her keep an eye on things.”

“You’re going to get us killed.”

“What are you going to do?” Izzy asked, rounding on him. “Zap them in a time freeze?” She motioned at the group of students around them. At the top of the stairs, there was a cow on the first landing, too scared to go back down the steps. A pirate slid down the barrister, waving a curved sword in the air. “If you use up all your energy on a temporal spell, you won’t be able to help me revert them back.”

Clary came floating down. Izzy shot a look at Alec and said, “Just trust me. For once.”

Alec held back the snarky retort about how she was the only reason they were in this mess in the first place. He looked down at Magnus and muttered, “Can you believe her?”

Magnus meowed in response. Alec liked to think he agreed.

“I wish that, until Alec and I have reverted you back into a human, no one is harmed, maimed, transformed into anything else, killed, or allowed to leave this house,” Izzy said. Clary nodded, strawberry blonde hair bobbing on top of your command. “Am I clear?”

“Your wish is my command,” Clary repeated. Nothing happened. Izzy and Alec looked at her, then at one another. Izzy shrugged. She bounded toward the staircase. Like a balloon on a string, Clary followed her.

“Oh, er -- and I wish that you would stay down here and wait for me to come back.”

Maryse Lightwood had a reputation.

It wasn’t that she had been a fool, marrying herself off to a mortal, only for him to run away, one of a handful of mortals who knew the Secrets of the Hidden Realms. It wasn’t that she was one of the first of her family to live in the Mortal Realm in generations, and it wasn’t that her children were half-witches, doomed forever to straddle the boundary between the realms.

Well, people did say those things. Often, in whispered tones and behind cupped hands. It didn’t necessarily matter, though, because Maryse had another reputation.  

Maryse was one of the most powerful witches of her age. The first girl born to her line in seven generations, her magic had always been extremely potent, and her mind sharp enough to wield it. There were a variety of reasons that Maryse claimed to live in the human world, from raising her children amongst their kind to liking the food, but Alec strongly suspected it was because if she lived in the Other Realm, she would never know peace. She was the one that people turned to when they needed both poisons and panaceas, when they needed to summon a demon or exorcise it. No other witch could touch her potionmaking, or approach the power of her enchantments. If she had wards set in place, there was not a witch alive who could break them down.

Other than her own children, that was.

It was strange being in his mother’s study. While Alec and his siblings weren’t necessarily forbidden from entering, it was somewhat frowned upon. He could probably count the times that he had been inside on his hands -- his mother had shooed them away from it as children, claiming it was too dangerous. Really, Alec thought, it was just the only place in the house she could go for any peace of mind.

Her study was set off from her bedroom. They had had to pass through her room to get to it, and Alec felt a bit guilty at the intrusion -- but not enough to face the alternative, which was to call her for help himself. So he had slipped through the room with his sister and with Magnus, still in cat-form.

With its circular shape and domed ceiling, the study resembled the library. As was their mother’s sensibility, it was plain yet regal.

Izzy hummed. “It feels like Mom in here,” she said. She absentmindedly ran her fingers over one of the tomes sitting on their mother’s desk, an old history book bound by a deep purple leather. One wall was dominated by bookshelves, another by rack upon rack of potion ingredients. There was a rudimentary summoning circle painted on the floor, and Alec knew he wouldn’t have to look far to find the necessary chalk to augment it. The room smelled of spices and herbs, rich leather and aging paper -- but mostly, it smelled of magic. Alec closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Stop sleeping,” Izzy said, giving him a light kick to the back of the leg. “We have work to do.”

Alec let out a sigh. Magnus hopped out of his arms, scampering up to peer up at the books. Alec watched him for a moment, body weighing heavily with guilt.

When he looked up, Izzy was watching him, worrying her lip between her teeth. She said, “Alec, I’m really --”

“Izzy, it’s fine.” Alec shook his head. He slowly lowered Magnus to the ground; the cat complied happily. Alec made a gesture, and the door flew shut behind them, latching itself securely. At his feet, Magnus poked suspiciously at the summoning circle. “Let’s just try and get this figured out before Mom gets home and murders both of us.”

Like many of the bookshelves in the house, the one in Maryse’s study was connected to the library. All Alec had to do was think of a title, and it would appear on the bookshelf.

They started by sifting through simple potion books. While Maryse was capable of perfecting even the most complicated of potions, she had always made a point of mastering the basics. It was pointless, she had told Alec, to use ten ingredients for what could be achieved with two.

After they had gone through the simple potion books, they moved on to more complicated ones. And then to enchantments. And then to history books. The rain continued to pour outside, and every now and then a flash of lightning would light up the room. Alec glanced toward the window, and watched the raindrops as they raced down the pane. He sat, cross-legged, on the floor, by piles of books. In other circumstances, this might have been an ideal Friday night.

Something brushed against his leg; he looked down to see Magnus pushing past him. Alec smiled, petting Magnus slowly as he passed, and was rewarded with a purr. Magnus disappeared amongst the stack of books, and Alec felt a pang in his chest. If he had had any future with Magnus, it had all been shattered tonight.

He looked over at Izzy, and was surprised to find her watching him, face screwed up in concentration.

“Shouldn’t you be reading?”

“Shouldn’t you? ” Izzy asked. She closed the book she had in her hands and tossed it onto one of the piles; it floated down and landed neatly on top of another book. Izzy scooted closer to Alec and said, “So.”

“So?”

“Magnus.”

“...yes?”

“Did you really kiss him?”

“Oh, God,” Alec muttered. He lifted the book he had been looking at higher, letting it serve as a wall between him and his sister.

Izzy wasn’t falling for it. The book snapped itself shut, trapping Alec’s finger between the pages. He looked up at his sister, annoyed; when he tried to pry the book open again, it budged just enough to let him free his finger.

“Yes,” Alec said. “I did. I kissed him, and he turned into a cat. And it doesn’t matter, because we’re just going to be wiping his memory at the end of the night.”

Izzy snorted. When Alec didn’t say anything else, her eyes went wide. “Wait -- are you serious?”

Alec nodded. Izzy gasped.

“Alec! No!” She grabbed the book he had been reading just to smack him with it; Alec flicked his finger and it went flying across the room. Izzy flicked her finger, and it came flying back, hitting Alec in the arm with a resounding thwack! before falling to the floor.

“Why are you always throwing things?” Alec rubbed at his arm. “What should I do? Just tell him everything? Hi, Magnus, sorry you turned into a cat after -- after that ,” Alec said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m actually a witch. And so is everyone else in my family. And my sister poisoned you. How does that sound?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to make him forget everything ! You can’t wipe the kiss. Just -- just everything after that.”

Alec sighed. He poked at one of the towers of books with his foot; there came a rustling, and then Magnus hopped up onto one of the piles. He looked between Izzy and Alec and then hopped down again, toppling a few books over in the process. Alec exasperatedly piled them up again.

“Magnus is mortal.”

Izzy didn’t get it. She didn’t have the same reservations about mortals that he did -- she could barely remember their father, and she hadn’t witnessed the way his departure had so thoroughly broken their mother’s heart. For Izzy, dating mortals meant nothing,  it was rebellious and exciting, a harmless way of having some fun.

Alec couldn’t live like that. He had spent years bottling his feelings up and hiding them away, trying to be someone his mother expected him to be.

And then, Magnus had shown up.

Idris was a small town. It had been easy enough to keep his feelings in check when the only people in his life were the ones who had been going to school with him since kindergarten. Arriving to school on the first day of senior year to find the entire student body abuzz with whispers of a new student had been different. And somewhere, between the rumors that went flying through the school, and the whispers behind their backs, and the borrowed pencils, and the lunches spent getting shushed in the library, Alec had started to fall for Magnus.

Izzy sighed. She gently closed the book in her lap and scooted closer to Alec. “Is that what this is about?”

Alec dragged another book from one of the piles. He flicked through the pages, staring at them without actually reading any of the words. Izzy didn’t say anything, just sat quietly and watched him until he eventually snapped the book closed.

“Of course that’s what this is about.”

“Alec…”

“You know that it’s dangerous to get close to mortals, Izzy.” He rubbed his hands over his face. It was what he had been telling himself ever since Magnus had arrived. From the first time Magnus asked if he wanted to sit together at once, or whenever Magnus offered him a stick of gum. It was what he told himself when he turned down Magnus’ offers to hang out, to go to a movie, to go to the football game together.

“Why? Because of Dad?”

Alec sighed. “What if Magnus found out?”

“Well yeah, it’s going to be pretty hard to hide when you two get married and have 2.5 kids and a picket fence,” Izzy said, pointedly ignoring the glare Alec shot her way. “So what? You’ll manage.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz that turned out so well for Mom.”

“Dad’s problem isn’t that he’s mortal, it’s that he’s an asshole.” She had a point there. “Think about Uncle Max. Aunt Sophie even lives in the Other Realm with him. It’s not that big of a --”

“Izzy. Drop it.”

Huffing in response, Izzy pointedly cracked open her book again. From between the stacks, Magnus came padding back to the two of them. He crawled into Alec’s lap and settled there, a comforting source of warmth in the otherwise gloomy room. Alec absentmindedly ran a hand over his back as he read, desperately trying to concentrate on the instructions in front of him.

After a few minutes of silent observation, Izzy said, “Maybe we should get a cat.”

“I’d rather have Magnus back. Read.”

“Izzy?” Alec said a short time later.

Izzy looked up at from the page she had been focused on. The situation felt oddly familiar, as if the two of them were twelve and ten again, sprawled out on the library floor to practice magic after school. “Hmm?”

“Mortals die,” Alec said. His quiet voice seemed to shake the room, silent aside from the sound of the rain pounding against the windows and the steady hum of Magnus purring on his lap. Alec didn’t lift his eyes from the book he was reading.

The room was silent. After a moment, Izzy stood. Well,” she said. “Maybe we should be looking at invocations instead.”

Alec cursed. Well, not literally -- rubbing at his thigh and muttering a string of swear words under his breath, he looked down at the book in his lap, then up at the stack of books it had toppled from. Magnus sat on the top of the stack, completely unfazed by his actions. If cats could have facial expressions, Magnus might have looked expectant.

“That hurt,” Alec told the cat.

Izzy looked over her shoulder. She stood at the wall of herbs and ingredients, pulling down some of the most common antidote ingredients with a wave of her finger. “We have plenty of heart of leech,” she said, “but there isn’t a lot of Mandrake root left.” She held up a jar, shaking it so Alec could hear the ingredients rattle around. “I hope that was on Mom’s list for the Other Realm.”

The cover of the book that had landed in his lap was almost unreadable; the letters on its face had long since faded from the leather, and the spine practically crumbled in his hands. Alec flipped the book open for a few moments; the writing was archaic, and the pages yellowed with time. He set it aside.

“You think it would be too dangerous to multiply it?”

“I was wondering the same thing.” Izzy examined the bottle. “Mandrake root doesn’t really multiply well.”

“Mrow.”

Alec followed the sound of Magnus’ insistent meow; he raised his eyebrow when he saw the cat dragging the book back toward him. Izzy chattered on in the background.

“Maybe if we distilled it down and threw in a bezoar. Do you think a bezoar would work?”

Magnus pushed the book insistently. It dug into Alec’s knee, and he finally relented. With a wave of his hand, color bled back into the cover, and the dry, cracked leather instantly became supple under the pads of his fingers. He raised an eyebrow at Magnus, and then slowly began to card through the pages.

“In a potion?”

“Why not? Necessity is the mother of invention. It’s not like it will kill anyone.”

Alec grunted an affirmation. The book was old. All of his mothers’ books were old, but this one was written in one of the old languages. Alec furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the words. He could just see his mother shaking her head; his French was fine, courtesy of public schooling, and yet he could no longer remember the great magic tongues.

Apparently, the distraction wasn’t enough for Magnus; he hopped into Alec’s lap and began pawing at the pages. “Stop that,” Alec muttered, attempting to pull the cat away -- and yet, he seemed hell-bent on it. Once Alec had finally freed the book from the cat’s tyranny, he began to flip through the pages in earnest.

He was halfway through the book when Magnus’ paw shot out again, trapping a page underneath his claws. Alec paused, staring down at the title.

“Hey, how’s your Chthonic?”

“Better than yours. Where does Mom keep the wormwood? A-ha.” Izzy whirled around, hoisting the jar in the air triumphantly. Then she frowned. “Wait -- why?”

Alec stumbled awkwardly through the title of the page, then the spell below. He stood, sending Magnus toppling down to the floor; the cat simply collected himself and scampered off toward Izzy. Tiptoeing through the volumes scattered about the floor, Alec followed him.

“I think I might have found something,” Alec said, still reading from the page. He passed the book to Izzy, pointing at the first string of symbols on the page. “Would you translate this as core?”

Izzy followed his finger with her gaze. Her face screwed up in concentration. “Essence,” she said. “ Maybe nature, but -- No.” She nodded, and brought the book closer to her face. “‘Enchantment of Essence,” she read aloud. Her gaze shot up to Alec. “You don’t think --”

“I don’t know. Can you translate the rest of the page?”

“I think so,” Izzy said. Still reading from the book, she meandered toward their mother's desk, where she fumbled around until she found a pen and paper.

Alec watched as she poured over the spell, pausing to scrawl something down here and there. She chuckled to herself at one point, looked up at Alec, and asked, “Where did you find this?”

“Magnus found it.”

Izzy raised her eyebrows. She tilted her head, angling it so that she could see Magnus where he sat perched on a table by the herb rack, licking his own paw. “Huh,” she said, then turned back to the spell.

Unfolding his arms, Alec approached the writing desk. “Do you know what it is?”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. She tore her gaze from the page. “It’s old. It’s supposed to revert people to their ‘essential form’. Look,” she tilted the book toward Alec, tapping on one of the illuminated illustrations in the corner. Alec squinted at it. Half man, half beast, it somewhat resembled Jace in his current form. The figure was split straight down the middle; on one side, a stern looking man, and the other, a wolf-like beast. There was a handwritten scrawl directly over it, which Alec could barely make out. “It was used to revert werewolves back to humans.”

“You think it worked?”

“I guess. Here,” Izzy passed the sheet of paper she had been writing on to Alec.

Alec snorted. “Nice work.”

Knocking her foot into his shin, Izzy grinned. “It’s a lot prettier in the Chthonic. It rhymes.

Alec worried the paper between his thumbs. It wasn’t dark magic, per se. But it was old magic. And old magic was powerful, volatile. Even the book itself, despite its unassuming appearance, radiated a foreign energy, one that was at odds with the rest of the magic that teemed through the house. Not dark, not malevolent, just…

Different.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Iz.”

“What? You were the one who found it --”

“--Magnus found it --”

“-- yeah, yeah, and your cat boyfriend knows his stuff.”

“He is not my --”

“Jace is chained to a table! Camille Belcourt is a vampire! I had to use an entire shaker of garlic salt to keep her away from the rest of the guests! Who knows what’s going on down there, we have to try something --”

“We can try the potion,” Alec said. “This is -- my Chthonian is horrible. What if we accidentally kill them. Or turn them into frogs. Or something.”

Izzy rubbed her temples. “Alec, do you really think anything this spell could do to them is worse than what they already are? Christina Moore is a cow , for God’s sake!”

“Look, we have other options. There’s still the potion.”

The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the room. Alec and Izzy whipped their gaze toward the herb wall. Still preening, Magnus sat on the table, the picture of innocence. Below him, the broken remains of a mason jar were scattered across the floor. Amongst the glittering debri was the last of the mandrake root.

“Shit,” Alec muttered. He handed the spell back to Izzy and crossed the room. “Magnus, why…?”

Magnus licked his paw, and looked up at Alec, challenging. The cat held Alec’s gaze for a long moment, and then hopped down off the table, padding across the dark wood floor to hop into Izzy’s lap. He pawed at the spell.

Alec shook his head. With wave of his hand, the mason jar was intact again. He sighed down at the mandrake root. “Do you think it was exposed to air for too long?”

“If by  ‘too long’, you mean ‘more than ten seconds’ then, yeah,” said Izzy. She scratched at the white spot between Magnus’ ears, and said brightly, “Guess it’s the Enchantment of Essence after all.”

With the snap of a finger, the room was clean. Books whisked themselves to their shelves, some of them disappearing back to the library, whereas others lined the shelves of the study neatly. The floor was free of any remnants of broken glass, and the ingredients Izzy had selected earlier sat snugly in their own little spots.

Alec placed himself at one point of the magic circle drawn in the ground. Izzy stood opposite him.

“Should Magnus be in the room?” Izzy asked. Alec cast a glance over his shoulder, where the cat was perched on the chair, watching the two of them with an air of haughty distaste. Like a normal cat.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s pretty cute like that.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“...but he’s cuter as a human.”

Alec rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree with her. Now that the entire debacle was coming to an end, he didn’t feel the same, overwhelming anxiety about the situation that had been charging through him for the last few hours. Instead, he felt drained. He remembered the way his heart had pounded when he had first seen Magnus leaning against the kitchen entryway, mouth curved into one of his enigmatic smiles. He remembered the way it had felt to sit across from in the couch, their knees knocking into one another just before they kissed.

Alec sighed. He didn’t want Magnus to forget. And he really didn’t want to go to class tomorrow and pretend everything was the same.

“Do we need to hold hands for this.”

“Probably not,” said Izzy. She held out her hands anyway, smiling warmly at Alec. When Alec took her green hands in his, she squeezed tight. “It’s going to be okay, Alec. Do you think you have it memorized?”

“Yeah,” Alec said. “If you say anything about my pronunciation, I’ll make sure you stay that color.”

Izzy laughed. “Well, at least I look good in green.”

Alec took a deep breath. He focused on the sound of the rain against the window, the warmth of the room, the comforting presence of his sister standing across from him. Magic coiled tightly in his body, ready to be channeled into a spell at any moment. He could feel it pulsing in Izzy’s hands, too, and his mother’s voice echoed through his head.

“There’s no such thing as a witch who is stronger than his coven.”

The two began to recite the spell. Beneath their feet, the magic circle began to glow -- not a necessity for the incantation, but it had the same effect as their joined hands; within its confines, the spell grew more potent. It cast the room in an eerie glow. The air around them grew charged. Alec inhaled, breathing the magic in.

Hands still clenched tightly together, the two took a step back. The ring of light followed them, emanating out from the circle. It fanned out over expanse of the floor, flaring with each word they said. The two chanted the final verse, and Alec craned his neck, trying to follow the growth of the spell as he did -- until it grew too much. Like a string pulled taught, it snapped, bursting from the room.

The sound in the room was momentarily deafening. A loud ringing resounded in Alec’s ears. Propelled by the force of the spell, he stumbled backwards.  

Warm hands caught him around the shoulders, steadying him, and his back hit against a firm chest.

Alec tilted his head to the side. He was met with a warm smile. Magnus’ eyes still glowed golden as he gently eased Alec off of him, and the cat ears he wore were still askew.

“I guess this time it’s treat?”

Alec shot away from him, nearly taking himself down again in the process of trying to stand upright. Magnus just laughed, rich and deep, and rested a hand on Alec’s forearm. “I’ve gotta hand it to you,” he said breezily, “you Lightwoods can throw a party. This has been one of the most exciting evenings of my life.”

“Magnus,” Alec said, heart pounding. He watched Magnus for a moment, both elated at having brought him back and terrified of what would happen next. “I’m so sorry.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Magnus just shrugged. He cast a look around the room, gaze lingering on Maryse’s bookshelf, then on the wall of ingredients. Alec struggled to find a mundane way of explaining intersecting rings on the floor, or the glowing spines of Maryse’s book, but anything he could think of sounded ridiculous. Besides, he was just going to be wiping Magnus’ memory soon, anyway.

And then, Magnus turned to him, fixing him with a bright smile. “Maybe some warning next time.”

“I -- uh, yeah, I -- I mean,” Alec stopped, forcing himself to breathe. “Magnus, I’m sorry, you had to go through that. I…” Alec didn’t quite know what to say. Instead, he leaned forward, pulling himself Magnus into a hug that seemed to surprise both of them.

Magnus was warm and firm, and Alec didn’t want to let go, especially not when Magnus’ arms gently rested around his waist. When he did finally pull back, Magnus was beaming. Alec studied the smile on Magnus’ face, wishing he could mirror it back at him. At his side, his fingers twitched. He pressed his middle finger against his thumb -- one snap, and they could be back in the library, as if nothing ever happened.

“Alec --” Izzy said quietly.

Alec snapped his fingers.

But before the pad of middle finger could hit his palm, Magnus reached out and caught Alec’s hand in his. He slowly unfurled Alec’s fingers, gently brushing the back of Alec’s knuckles with his fingertips. The tension ebbed out of them, and Alec shot a quizzical look at their nearly joined hands.

“You’re going to need something stronger than that,” Magnus said nonchalantly. “I would suggest maybe an Elixir of Oblivion, but,” he cast a mournful look at the wall of potion ingredients, and shook his head sadly. “Potionmaking doesn’t seem like your strong suit.”

“I --” Alec shot a look at Izzy, who shrugged her shoulders in response. Her skin was no longer green, and the white streak in her hair had reverted back to black. Alec looked back to Magnus. “What?”

“Leech’s heart is a horrible base for a transformation potion,” Magnus said. He let his fingers fall from Alec’s hand and wandered toward the workbench. “At least for mortals. They’ve never been good at stomaching it. I would have gone for --” he peered at the wall of ingredients and then, with a hum of victory “eye of newt. You can’t go wrong with salamander.”

“Do you know what’s going on? Because I don’t know what’s going on.” Izzy asked Alec.

Alec shook his head.

“You do need to brush up on your Chthonic.” Magnus snapped his fingers; the spellbook from earlier materialized in Alec’s hands. “The Book of Bane,” he recited, “ A Practickal Compendium of Witchcrafte from Beyonde the Outer Realms, the First and Only Complete Account of the -- you know, it’s snappier in the Chthonic.”

Alec and Izzy stared.

“Why don’t we go check on the rest of the party?”

___________

Downstairs, things were almost back to normal.

(Almost as normal as things ever were in the Lightwood household, anyway.)

The foyer seemed relatively unharmed, but the parlor had been trashed, Alec noted, as if some kind of animal had thrashed the room. There was a trail of feathers across the room, and Alec noted that one dazed teenager dressed as an angel was missing at least half of one of her wings. The china cabinet still stood tall and proud, but the end table next to it had been bashed in. Students clamored all around them, whispering in shock and peering into their drinks in confusion.

Clary sat on the couch. She darted toward Izzy when they walked in, and Alec had to hand it to her -- despite his reservations about her, at least she had kept her word.

“Just like old times,” Magnus said. “Shall I do the honors?”

With a flourish, he raised both hands and snapped.

“I think that’s the last of them,” Alec told Magnus, herding a small group of half-drunk, newly memory-wiped students onto the porch. The house still stood in disarray, but they had finally managed to evacuate the last of the students. Halloween music echoed through the empty halls -- Alec still couldn’t find the source of it.

“Do you have a ride?” Magnus asked a sophomore, a smile still on his face. She nodded, dazed (Alec was certain he wore the exact same expression when Magnus smiled at him like that) and muttered something about her brother. Alec watched as they went, face contorted with concern.

Magnus snapped his fingers. Alec turned to look at him, startled. “Just a small protection,” Magnus said. “They’ll be fine. You need to relax.”

Letting out a deep breath, Alec took a few steps, then dropped down to sit on the stairs. He looked out over the lawn, watching as a pair of headlights appeared over the hill leading up to their house. The final group of students boarded with a wave, and Alec said, “My mom is going to kill me.”

Behind him, the boards of the porch creaked. Magnus sat down next to him, their thighs almost touching. “Not if she doesn’t find out.”

Alec let out a hoarse laugh, and turned to look at Magnus. The storm from earlier had cleared, leaving behind nothing more than a comforting chill in the air. A nearly full moon peeked out from between the clouds, bathing the lawns in an eerie light. It illuminated the side of Magnus’ face, the light catching in the golden yellow of his eyes.

“My mom always finds out,” Alec said. “It’s like the walls have eyes.”

Magnus shook his head. “Classic.”

The two sat in an easy silence for a moment, listening to the quiet howl of the wind. From inside the house, they could hear the muffled sounds of thumping and banging as Izzy frantically darted through each room, trying to fix the sorry state of the house. Alec’s eyes darted to his watch. It was nearly midnight. All Hallow’s eve was nearly over, and their mother would be home soon. He let out a deep sigh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Magnus was quiet for a moment. He shifted minutely, just a brush closer, and brought his and Alec’s legs together from thigh to knee.

“My father wanted me to lay low,” he said. He leaned back on his hands, stretching out; just like in the library, Alec was aware of every movement Magnus made. As if pulled my some invisible string, he turned his head, following Magnus’ movement.

Magnus had his eyes trained upward, studying the wisps of clouds overhead. “After everything at my last school, and after my mom…” his voice trailed off for a moment, and he shook his head. “He thought it would be best to stay away from the magic community for a while. Try to live a ‘mundane life’.” Magnus snorted, and fixed Alec with a sly smile. “Naturally, we’ve been eating a lot of take out.”

That startled a laugh out of Alec. A particularly loud bang came from within the house, followed by a loud string of curses and another bang, setting both of them off. They laughed, shoulders knocking into one another. For such a cold night, Alec felt incredibly warm.

Mustering up his courage, he slid his fingers across the wood of the porch, and let his hand rest lightly on top of Magnus’.

“I wanted to tell you too,” Alec said. “I almost did -- so many times, I just…”

“I understand,” Magnus said softly. He sat upright, threading their fingers together as he did and bringing their joined hands together on the seam where their two legs met. Chin tilted upward, he looked at the moon and said, “It can be hard being a witch. But it doesn’t have to be lonely.” He smiled.

Alec just had to lean forward a bit. Just a few inches, and --

A crack resounded through the night, the sound of lightning touching down on the ground. Standing in front of the two of them, still clad in the swirling, traditional robes of the other realm, was Maryse Lightwood, arms folded and mouth tight.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” she said. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I expected better from you. Both of you.”

Alec and Jace muttered their apologies from where they sat on the sofa. Jace was huddled over a bowl that had once been filled with candy, and was now a receptacle for any potential illness -- something Izzy referred to as, “divine retribution for ruining her cupcakes.” The three of them were pressed side to side on the parlor sofa. Maryse paced back and forth in front of them, practically spitting fire.

Magnus sat on the armchair across from them, idly swirling a teabag around in his mug of water and politely pretending not to be paying attention.

“...irresponsible, not to mention dangerous. Someone could have been killed.”

Alec wanted to disappear into the couch. From the looks of it, Izzy was already on it -- her skin had slowly been going translucent, as if she could escape their mother’s wrath by gradually slipping away.

“And you, young lady --”

Izzy winced, color coming back in full force. “Young Lady” was rarely a good sign.

“-- I can’t leave the three of you alone for one evening. One! Do I need a babysitter? The one night of the year…”

Tilting his head, Alec made apologetic eye contact with Magnus. Magnus just shrugged, took a sip of his tea, and made a face.

“And poor Magnus --”

Maryse turned to address him, and Magnus sat upright, spilling some of the tea on his lap.

“Oh, I’m fine, Mrs. Lightwood --”

“I can’t apologize enough for the actions of my children,” she said. “I’m sorry for the trouble you went to. I have no idea how I’ll explain to your father…”

“I mean, I won’t tell him if you don’t?”

“I thought that went well.”

Alec scoffed. After what felt like years of torture at the hands of his mother (or, rather, 45 minutes of lecturing), he was finally escorting Magnus out. It was the middle of the night, and at this point, he just felt tired.

“I think she liked me,” Magnus continued, shooting Alec a grin. “She wants us over for dinner, at least.”

“She’s never going to let me out of the house again.”

“Well, then,” said Magnus, lacing their fingers together and pulling Alec closer to him. “I guess we should make the most of your freedom.”

Warmth rose in Alec’s cheeks, and he dropped his gaze down to their connected hands. He looked back up at Magnus and said, “Are we --”

“--taking your car to school tomorrow? Sitting together during lunch? Going on a date as soon as you’re off house arrest?” Magnus absentmindedly drummed his fingertips against the back of Alec’s hand. “I guess that’s up to you.”

“I -- yeah. Yeah, of course.”

And then, doing what he had wanted to do for hours, Alec leaned forward, and pressed his still smiling lips against Magnus’. He focused on the warmth of Magnus’ lips, the weight of Magnus’ hands pressed into his side. When he finally pulled back, Magnus followed, chasing his lips.

And then, as if something out of his worst nightmare, Magnus disappeared.

In his place was a black cat with a shock of white fur.

Alec could have screamed.

“I -- what --”

As quickly as it happened, Magnus was standing in front of Alec again, laughing.

“You --”

“It’s a family trait,” Magnus said. He blinked his eyes. When he opened them again, they were no longer the gold cat eye contacts he had been wearing all night, but the warm brown ones that had grown familiar over the last few months. He blinked again, and they were gold. “It’s nice to transform back on my own, though.”

Alec shook his head, smiling. “I can’t believe you,” he said, and went in for another kiss.

When they finally broke away, breathless, Alec smiled at Magnus and fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I can hardly wait.” He leaned forward, and pressed a final, quick kiss to Alec’s lips. “Good night, Alexander. Happy Halloween.”

“Good night,” Alec murmured.

With a snap of his fingers, Magnus was gone, leaving Alec alone on the front porch. He looked out at the lawn, quiet except for the whistle of the wind, and the distant rumblings of a far-off storm.

All his life, Alec had associated Halloween with trouble. Hours spent putting up protective wards, keeping the dark forces at bay, being forced to socialize with his family at awkward potlucks… He had never experienced it like mortals had, had never known anything but frustration and boredom and stress on Halloween night.

He brushed his fingers over his lips, smiling, and found himself already looking forward to next year.