Ellie handed the lighter back reluctantly, then leaned in close to study the crisscrossing cuts on Lucas’s body by firelight.
Her brows drew together.
“Your shirt’s glued to the wounds.
You can’t just yank it off—you’ll rip the scabs open.
We have to soak it first.”
Lucas nodded.
“I’ll head down to the stream—”
She caught his arm.
“No.
Washing open wounds straight from the creek will make you sick.
You could run a fever.
We don’t know how long we’ll be stuck out here—we need to be careful.” Her voice turned dead serious.
“Without clean hot water, it’s safer to leave everything as it is for now.”
“Can wizards just conjure hot water?” Lucas asked, then caught himself.
“Oh, right.
You lost your wand.
So… no wand means no spells at all?”
“Really skilled witches and wizards can go wandless—even nonverbal,” Ellie said, patting down her cloak and pants pockets.
“But I’m just starting out.
I’ve never heard of a spell that makes hot water from nothing.
The best we can do is heat what’s already there.”
“We need something to boil water in.” All she pulled out was a small palm-sized leather pouch.
Lucas’s eyes lit up.
“Is that one of those magic bags that holds way more than it should?”
“No.
Undetectable Extension Charms aren’t something you can slap on anything.
They need Ministry approval.” Ellie sounded exactly like Hamish.
“I swear the Ministry sticks its nose into way too much.”
Lucas thought for a second, then eyed the dragon-hide cloak wrapped around her.
“Ellie, we could use your cloak as a pot.
Hang it up and boil water right in it!”
He paused, suddenly realizing.
“Uh… never mind.
You’re… not wearing anything under that, right?”
Ellie’s eyes flashed.
“Don’t you dare think about it!
Thinking counts as a crime too!”
Seeing Lucas covered in bloodstains and grinning awkwardly, she lowered her fist and muttered, “Of course I’m wearing underwear… Turn around.
No looking, and no thinking either.”
Lucas raised both hands and turned away.
Behind him Ellie kept talking.
“Using the cloak as a pot was smart, Lucas, but it’s not enough.
Dragon-hide is fireproof.
You could boil water in it all day over normal flames and it’d still be ice-cold.
Don’t worry—I’ve got a way.”
Under Ellie’s direction Lucas hauled stones from the stream and built a simple stove ring around the fire.
They rinsed the cloak clean in the creek, filled it with water, then tied the four corners with tough vines to a quick wooden frame, turning it into a hanging pot.
“Get the stones red-hot and drop them in—” Ellie said.
“That’s the hot-stone trick!
Why didn’t I think of that?” Lucas said, genuinely impressed.
“Ellie, you’re a straight-up wilderness expert!”
Ellie lifted her chin proudly.
“MacFustys are born for the wild.
We start learning this stuff the second we can walk!”
She looked at him, violet eyes sparkling in the firelight.
“You’re not bad yourself, Hogwarts first-year.
You’re eleven too, right?
But you’re way tougher than any of the crybaby boys I’ve met.”
Sssssss—
The stones hit the water with a violent hiss.
Steam exploded upward as the water inside the cloak began to bubble.
Once it cooled a little, Lucas started to reach for it, but Ellie shut that down.
“Don’t move.
Let the expert handle it.”
So Lucas sat still while Ellie folded broad leaves into makeshift cups, scooped the warm water, and gently poured it over him.
She soaked every scrap of fabric stuck to the wounds, then peeled the torn shirt away bit by bit.
Even with only one good hand her movements were steady, patient, and careful—nothing like her usual whirlwind energy.
Blood seeped out, but she ignored it until the ruined shirt was completely off.
Then she rinsed the dirt from every cut with more warm water.
She tore the shirt into strips, dropped them back into the pot, boiled them with fresh hot stones, and hung them by the fire to dry.
It was a summer night, but the campfire kept everything warm.
Lucas sat shirtless with his back to Ellie, listening to the wood crackle, and felt strangely at peace.
“Here, finish the rest yourself.” Ellie’s fist appeared beside his face, holding a handful of dry cloth strips.
“I’ve only got one hand, so you’ll have to bandage the rest,” she said.
Lucas thanked her and started wrapping the deeper cuts.
When he couldn’t reach the ones on his back, Ellie reached over to help adjust the makeshift bandages.
Tree shadows danced.
Firelight flickered.
Her fingertips brushed lightly across his spine while a distant bird let out a long, haunting cry.
It tickled.
Lucas smiled.
Ellie clicked her tongue.
“Stop moving… What’s so funny?”
“Because this world is just so damn interesting,” Lucas murmured.
“It’s really good…”
“Oh no, here we go again,” Ellie sighed.
“You definitely hit your head.
Once you get to Hogwarts they can fix that.
I hear the school has everything—including a hospital wing.”
“Ellie, you’re the same age as me,” Lucas said.
“But Hamish mentioned your family still does traditional home schooling.
You’re really not going to Hogwarts?”
Ellie’s hands paused.
“Actually… I really want to go.
There aren’t that many kids in the family, and the uncles and aunts teach in their own confusing ways.
Sometimes they even contradict each other.”
She lowered her hands, eyes full of longing.
“I heard Hogwarts has four houses and hundreds of students.
It must be so lively.
And Headmaster Dumbledore is supposed to be the greatest wizard alive…”
“Then why don’t you apply?” Lucas asked.
“Family tradition,” Ellie grumbled.
“It’s some special privilege our family earned centuries ago.
We’re exempt from the Ministry’s education laws.
Figures—they make us follow the rules we shouldn’t and ignore the ones we should.”
Lucas let the subject drop.
Once the bandaging was done, Ellie took the cloak down again, washed it in the stream, refilled it, and boiled more water.
“Here, drink some first.”
Only then did Lucas realize how parched he was.
They used the leaf cups to skim off the ash and sipped the warm water slowly.
Thirst taken care of, both their stomachs growled at the same time.
Ellie suddenly remembered her pouch.
“Aha!”
She pulled out a sharp silver-handled knife, several big pieces of dark jerky, and two hard, dry round loaves of bread.
“Here’s dinner.
Hopefully we’ll be out of this forest tomorrow.”
Ellie passed half the food to Lucas from behind.
She was about to bite into a piece of jerky when Lucas chuckled.
“Wait.
Don’t eat yet.
Let me make our dinner taste a whole lot better.”
Under Ellie’s stunned stare, Lucas started pulling things out of his torn work pants pockets like a magician: a salt shaker, black and white pepper shakers, a small bag of spices, and a big chunk of butter wrapped tight in oil paper.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Lucas said as he lined up his precious seasonings on a rock.
“I’m a chef.
Carrying this stuff is perfectly normal.”
“A chef?” Ellie stared wide-eyed.
“That’s right.
A chef who’s about to become a wizard.”