(Untitled)

[try_corsets]

[OOM: There's a change in the wind; Elizabeth notices and decides to visit Tonks. First a truth is told, then a request is made; the witch accepts.Long hair tangled and eyes bright with purpose, Elizabeth strides into the main bar from the staff corridor and looks to Tonks for further direction. There's nothing but a vague memory and notion of

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[clumsy_auror]

"Okay." Taking a deep breath, Tonks eyes the door for a moment, and then waves Elizabeth over so that she's standing next to the door. "I'm gonna have to try and do a spell on you and the door at the same time, if that makes any sense."

[try_corsets]

"It does."

Elizabeth sees only a blank wall. Swallowing, she turns and rests a palm on the cool expanse of nothing.

Please open.

She's not sure who she asks: God, the landlord or the bar itself. But ask she does, and when she's finished she eyes Tonks, still not entirely in the correct position.

"If it doesn't work," and there's a pause, "at least we will have tried."

[clumsy_auror]

Carefully she puts her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders and moves her several inches to the right so that her friend's palm is on the center of the door.

Satisfied, she steps back and closes her eyes.

It takes a bit of thinking, trying to puzzle out the sort of spell that might possibly work.

So much of spellwork is intent, the nonverbal oomph pushing the words and the movement of the wand. That's where the real magic is.

In short: you have to mean it.

In her mind's eye Nymphadora sees Elizabeth on a distant shore, standing in the blinding Caribbean sunlight, her face full of that familiar determination, but happy, happy and satisfied.

The wand lifts, and Tonks suspends disbelief, sheds the doubts she has about any sort of spell working on this door. Her hand is steady, as is the wand in it.

"Alohomora!" she cries, and a wave of blue light erupts from the tip of her wand.

[bad_in_latin]

Mal's minding his own business. When he's not bartending in Milliways, that's the overall attitude he tries to maintain.

That doesn't mean he's not looking up, calligraphy brush resting in one hand and a piece of paper under the other, when he sees Elizabeth and 'Dora together.

He'd wave if he thought they would notice him.

Mal would wave, if the light from Dora's spell hadn't made him forget to do so.

[try_corsets]

The moment, when it arrives, moves faster than Elizabeth expects; in her mind, such an experiment should warrant at least one lengthy spell recitation, for the look and intent of the thing. And yet, she's not disappointed to do without. As she's being repositioned, Elizabeth hastily reviews the steps that have led her here, with her hand on a door she cannot see and a witch attempting to do what no one else has managed. An image of Will, eyes hurt and mildly disapproving, moves through her mind, and she almost breaks eye contact with Tonks to search for the man who should by all rights be standing beside her.

But then she remembers.

Pirate.

Will would wonder why she's going to such lengths after so many months of waiting, and he can't know. Not yet. And it's Captain Jack Sparrow Elizabeth thinks of when she drags in a breath and extends her other hand, reaching, imagining where a doorknob might be; it feels, for the briefest of moments, like her fingertips brush curved steel.

Alohomora! commands Tonks, full of conviction, and

[bad_in_latin]

"...Oh gorramit."

Mal's out of his seat, brushes and inks forgotten.