[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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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."
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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.
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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.
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