Strings of Fate

Cam 16- Truth and temptation

The next night brings an endless stream of questions from Harry. Most of them are easy enough, what do I like to eat, what’s my favourite animal, stuff like that. It’s not until he starts asking questions about my family that I struggle. I could refuse to answer. But not answering would be just as telling that something is wrong as outright telling him. I tend to avoid those questions, giving vague half answers. No I don’t have any siblings, yes my parents are still alive. Stuff like that. I change the topic by pointing out that it’s not fair if I’m the only one talking. So Harry starts answering any questions I do. Enthusiastically. I learn that he was an orphan and grew up in the same place as Ryann which explains their odd friendship and I learn more about his work. He ends the evening by asking me out again.

“Would you like to get dinner with me sometime?” He asks, I am momentarily confused. He’s been blasting questions at me so fast I nearly just answered yes as a default. NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

“No.”

“Alright then. I’ll try again tomorrow. Goodnight.” And off he goes with a smile.

The next night I decide to have a little fun with his drink. Since he’s asking so many questions I figure it’s my turn. I drop off a drink in front of him but cover it with my hand

before he can drink it.

“Fair warning, this drink is spelled.” I warn. He raises an eyebrow.

“You spell my drinks all the time. Why are you warning me about this one?” He asks. I sigh.

“Because I’m not a complete jerk. This drink has a truth spell in it. It’ll only work for three.

questions. It’s one thing for me to give you potions that make you feel weird or something. But it’s very different to force truth from you.” I tell him. Harry shrugs.

“I don’t have any secrets from you so I don’t mind.” And without another word he knocks my

hand aside and downs the drink.

“Go ahead. What did you want to ask me?” He says cheerfully with a hint of a serious

expression.

Cam 16- Truth and temptation

“What is your favourite colour?” I ask. He stares completely confused.

“Green. But you already knew that. You didn’t need a truth spell for that.” He points out. I

shrug.

“I know. The point was to ask something I know so I can be sure it’s working.” I explain.

“Second question. Why do you really come here so often?” Harry smiles.

“To see you. It’s the only way I know to get you to spend time with me.” He explains. Hmm. So he wasn’t lying about that. Although it doesn’t really tell me why he wants to spend time with me. He could just be trying to sleep with me. Or maybe he is just weirdly interested in magic. I consider my last question carefully then decide to just ask what I really want to

know.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” I ask quietly.

‘Because I enjoy it and because I know that we are fated to each other and I want to get to know the person I’m destined to end up with.” He answers easily. My brow furrows. So he wasn’t lying about that. Which doesn’t mean it’s true, just that he believes it’s true. It doesn’t

mean he won’t change his mind later.

“Is that it? Your spell has worn off?” He confirms and I nod.

“Yep, three questions. Any truth spell that lasts longer than that is illegal. As is any spell that forces you to answer unwillingly.” I explain.

“Doesn’t this spell force the truth?” Harry asks, confused.

“It makes you tell the truth for three questions IF you choose to answer them. If you didn’t. want to answer you could just refuse to respond or stay silent. The magic would wear off after a few minutes anyway. People buy them for party games like truth or dare mostly. It’s not so strong that you couldn’t fight it. Those kinds of spells that take away someone’s free will are awful. I don’t make them.” I want that to be clear. I might make the occasional weird or sketchy spell, but I stay away from the more manipulative magic. I mostly stick to practical spells, defensive magic and more recently, potions that are good for pranks.

Cam 16- Truth and temptation

“I understand, you’re a good person. I know that. I do wonder why you suddenly decided to give me a truth potion, and why you chose questions I’ve already answered. Did you think I’ve been lying to you?” He actually seems concerned, leaning over the bar with a furrowed brow. I’m trying to think of a way I

can answer that isn’t super insulting. Saying ‘I think you’re a liar‘ is not a great option. Nor is saying that I thought he was trying to trick me. Then again, now I’m fairly convinced that he’s delusional. I actually wanted him to be lying because with every night that he comes here I want him more and more and that’s just

unacceptable. I’m fine on my own and I refuse to fall for some Incubus who will probably leave as soon as he’s had me. Even if he thinks otherwise. None of this helps me. I can’t tell him that I was hoping he was lying because it would give me a good reason to hate him. I’ve been quiet for too long and a smirk starts to break out across Harry’s face. Damn it, he’s making assumptions. He leans in close.

“If you don’t answer I will just make up my own answer for you. I think

you wanted to know because you’re tempted. You want to be with me but you don’t know if you trust me yet so you thought you could trick me into saying something that you could be angry about so that you would have another excuse, to turn me down.” He whispers the words to me and I shiver grateful for the bar between us that stops him from coming any closer, but at the same time I

sort of wish it wasn’t and that we were alone.

“Uhm, excuse me? Can I get another cider please?” A timid voice causes me to jerk back and I realise there are at least three people waiting for drinks. I shove Harry back off the bar and get to work, ignoring how bright red I probably am. When did he gain the ability to affect me so much that I forget my job?

I work hard for the rest of the evening, doing my best to avoid Harry. I drop off drinks to him. without speaking or even waiting for payment and when I don’t have work to do I find some. I polish glasses, clean benches, dust shelves and put everything away so neatly that someone. with OCD couldn’t find a flaw. I’m relieved when I do last call, knowing that there is only a few more minutes until I can head home and get away from his knowing eyes. I’m just about to start kicking people out when the front

doors burst open and a man strides in confidently like he owns the place. He leaves the door open behind him, elbows his way past a group women who are on their way out and then stops in front of the bar expectantly.

Shit, Simon is here.

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