His mother appeared in the doorframe, trying at a cheerful face ��� which came over a little false and crooked, the Prince physiognomy not allowing for much mirth. ‘About those ingredients ���’
‘Cellar’, he snarled and sat down at his desk, feigning preoccupation.
Eileen rolled her eyes and left the room. Daysen heard her voice out there in the hallway, talking to Gilly. ‘The young master is in one of his moods today. Has anything occurred to upset him so, apart from that scam I witnessed?’
‘Yes, you have’, thought Jack, supported his forehead in his hands, elbows on the desk, and sighed dejectedly. It was impossible. His mother living here, even if it was for only a week as she had continuously promised. Jack had his doubts, but although he would not have hesitated to throw anyone else out ��� and with a certain kind of relish, too ��� this was still his mother and hence his Achilles heel.
With another profound sigh, he took a roll of parchment, dipped his quill in ink and began to write. It was really more of a stopgap, he didn’t know what to write, but after a while he found that he had begun to set out a very structured plan for further magical lessons with Elena. The words ‘Legilimency’ and ‘Occlumency’ were at the centre ��� he was still convinced that she had a talent for it, although her efforts in that regard hadn’t amounted to much yet ��� and this made him think of Draco Malfoy and hence of his family. He wondered whether Lucius would receive another visit from the Ministry in which he would be asked to confirm Daysen’s testimony of the night of the McKinnon assassination. Jack also asked himself whether Lucius would give it or whether his disappointment in his erstwhile friend would make him deny it. However, Lucius Malfoy might be stubborn in his resentment, but he was not a liar. There was, of course, the possibility that he just didn’t care anymore ���
A soft rapping at the window startled him out of his thoughts. Immediately, his stomach churned. Rap at the window ��� black owl ��� parchments in blood ��� However, the owl he found sitting on the outer window sill looking at Daysen expectantly was a common barn owl and had nothing sinister about it. Jack opened the window and let the bird in, relieved it of a scrap of rolled-up parchment and read it, standing up. It was only a short message, but an interesting one, and at the bottom of it were the initials ‘R.J.L.’ Daysen made a thoughtful face, then stuffed the message in the pocket of his coat.
When he looked up, he saw a light spring to life on the upper floor of the Crawford house. He realized that the illuminated window belonged to Elena’s bedroom. She had finally come home.
Instantly, Daysen started to move. He disregarded the parchment and quill lying on his desk and spurted out of the sitting room, wondering why his hands suddenly trembled. He almost ran into his mother and tried to sidestep her, only to have her block his way with astonishing swiftness. ‘I thought you might want to know how I concoct that solution I told you about earlier ���’
‘Not now, mother!’ He went for the front door, then stopped, thought twice, wheeled around and started up the stairs.
‘Jack?!’ his mother called after him, irritation ringing sharply in her voice.
When he came down again, with a bundle in his arm, she was still rooted to the spot and stared at him. ‘Are you going out?’ she asked as if it was cause for alarm.
‘Yess’, he hissed darkly and sidestepped her once more.
‘Where to? When will you be back?’
It was his teenage years all over again. Worse even, because during his teens she had mostly been too preoccupied to care much about where he went, and when.
‘You’ll see’, the responded curtly, threw over his travelling cloak and breezed out of the house.
When the cold November air hit his face ��� it smelt of a new bout of snow which would no doubt start to fall during the night ��� he breathed deeply, then started towards the Crawford house. Its front door opened precisely at that moment. In the deepening dusk, she was no more than a shadow, but he recognized her movements, her gait when she came towards him, the way how she threw back her hair over her shoulder. Suddenly, he was driven forward by what appeared to be the force of a strong magnet. His heart pounded, and when she passed below a flickering streetlamp and he saw her face, her smile meeting him, it raced. Two seconds later, they stood facing each other.
‘Good evening, Professor’, she said cheerfully and with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
He didn’t reply. Being upset and excited at the same time left no room for words. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him towards his favourite Disapparating spot.
‘Oh ��� okay ���’, she mumbled, realizing his intention, ‘where are we going?’
‘As far away from here as possible’, he growled.
‘As far away as Iceland?’
‘Don’t be daft.’
She giggled, but followed him like a lamb. When they had reached the cul-de-sac, he let go of her wrist and unfolded the bundle in his arms. It was a black cloak, old and tattered, but still whole. ‘Put it on’, he commanded, ‘with the hood up.’
‘Splendid’, she said with a trace of irony, ‘everyone’s thinking already that I’m some gangster’s moll ���’
‘Where have you been?’ he challenged her, to take off at least part of the excited edge. ‘The inquiry’s long over.’
Elena flashed him a stubborn look. ‘Having tea’, she replied tersely, ‘with a ��� friend.’
Jack scowled. No need asking who that friend was. He was quite certain he knew anyway, but he didn’t really want to. He yanked the hood onto her head, then roughly grabbed her hand again. ‘Brace yourself’, he commanded.
‘I don’t need to brace myself anymore’, she hissed at him.
‘Even better’, he replied, completely unimpressed, and went for a particularly rough kick-off.
It was a reunion of sorts and as characteristic as could be. As always, he was a little overbearing, assuming without question that she was free and his to take wherever he fancied. In a different situation, it might have made her angry. As it was, however, Elena was simply glad to see him. In fact, she distinctly enjoyed his behaviour because this was Jack; Jack Daysen whom she had missed so much that it was quite impossible for her to be mad at him.
After they had touched down, Elena found herself on a narrow road covered in a thick blanket of snow. At Spinner’s End, it had been no more than sludge, but here it was winter wonderland and also quite a bit colder. Elena drew her cloak tighter around herself ��� it smelt of him, which she found pleasant ��� and looked about. On either side of the snowy road stood peculiar crooked houses with dimly lighted windows. She realized that she was standing at the centre of a village, overseen by a castle that sat on a rock.
‘Hogwarts’, she said, smiling and a little awed.
‘Not quite’, he replied, suddenly much calmer. ‘We’re in Hogsmeade.’
She had read about it. The only all-wizarding village in Britain. Hogwarts she had visited, about two weeks ago in fact, though only on the inside. Seeing the castle up there on its rock was more impressive than any image in a book could have conveyed.
‘Come on’, Daysen murmured, touching her elbow.
He took her a little way up the street, then turned into a side road. A short while later they were standing in front of a particularly sinister building. The floors were stacked on top of each other as if a small child had set them together. A sign with Gothic letters spelt ‘The Hog’s Head’. A pub. Elena gave Daysen a curious side glance. Was she wrong or was he taking her on a date?
They entered the pub. Within seconds, Elena was sure that this was the dirtiest place she had ever been in, the floor covered in mud and the tiny windows so filthy that you would have had to press your nose against the panes to see anything at all outside. The tables were placed at awkward angles, with candle stumps on them. The smell in the pub was strange and a little disgusting. Only
a few figures were about, sitting in corners in front of tanks and cups, but like she and Daysen they wore cloaks with drawn-up hoods. Behind the bar stood a man with long wiry grey hair and beard and piercing bright-blue eyes behind spectacles. His features reminded Elena of a goat. The barman nodded to them.
‘Good evening, Aberforth’, Daysen said in his low voice, ‘quiet table?’
Another curt nod from the man named Aberforth who pointed to the end of the guestroom. ‘Take the alcove’, he said, ‘what will you have?’
‘Fire Whiskey. And for the lady ��� red wine?’ He looked inquisitively at Elena and she inclined her head in assent.
‘Coming up.’
Jack led her to the indicated spot, a small table in a niche, enclosed by roughly timbered wooden boards for privacy.
‘Why here?’ Elena asked as soon as they had sat down.
‘There’s a complication in my house’, Daysen replied dryly. He, too, had drawn up his hood and she could only see the lower part of his face and, of course, the protruding nose.
‘A complication?’ she repeated curiously. ‘Why, has Hermione Granger dropped by to have Fire Whiskey?’
She didn’t know what had made her say it. She didn’t know, either, why it had come out so sharply. Jack looked up and for a brief moment she saw his black eyes reflecting the flickering flame of the candle. Then Elena heard a harsh laugh. ‘Did she tell you that?’
‘No. Her boyfriend did.’
She watched his mouth contort into a crooked grin. ‘And did the ingenuous Ron Weasley enlighten you on the cause of Ms Granger’s visit, as well?’
‘No. But tell me about the complication first.’
He sighed. ‘My mother.’
‘Oops!’ Her eyes became wide. ‘I see ��� Aren’t you pleased?’
‘Do I look pleased?’
She chuckled. ‘Well, my sympathies then. ��� How long is she going to stay?’
‘One week, she says. But no doubt by the end of it she’ll find a reason to stretch it indefinitely.’
Hearing the exasperation in his voice, Elena felt a strong urge to reach out and touch his hand. However, she resisted because his presence not only made her feel dizzy with excitement, but also with insecurity. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Being so close to him after all this time ��� only a bit more than two weeks, but to her it felt more like two months ��� was enchanting and upsetting at equal measures. Also, she felt a mad grin on her face. A little too mad, perhaps, but not mad enough to shake Jack out of his usual cool. His voice was now as even and silky as ever, the flash in his eyes a little arrogant and all in all he conveyed the impression that nothing had happened between them apart from, perhaps, the beginnings of a tentative friendship.
‘She has probably come for the hearing’, Elena heard herself chatter, ‘that’s rather nice of her, don’t you think, to come and support you?’
‘I don’t know what her motive is exactly, but I can assure you that being nice has nothing to do with it.’
Elena didn’t know how to reply. ‘Tell me about the story behind the Fire Whiskey party, then.’
Jack exhaled, and she thought she felt his relief at the change of subject. Right away, he launched into an account about how he had found an intruder in his Hogwarts office the other day, an intruder who had managed to escape in quite a breath-taking manoeuvre, leaving mayhem behind. ‘At first, he ransacked my house’, Daysen explained, scowling darkly, ‘knocked out my house-elf ���’
‘Gilly?!’ Elena broke in. ‘The poor thing! Is she alright?’
‘Yeah, yeah’, Daysen said with an impatient wave of his long thin hand. ‘But of course, she couldn’t stop him. He then came to my office where I found him, but I was too slow, or rather my blasted new wand was ���’
‘Anything stolen?’
‘Just a little thing. From my house.’ Daysen paused for a few seconds, and as Elena could only see part of his face, it was difficult to interpret his expression. ‘Nothing valuable’, he added eventually.
‘What do you think was the purpose?’
‘Upset me’, Daysen said without hesitation. ‘Rattle me on the eve of the hearing.’
Elena pondered this. She asked herself whether he was being a little paranoid, but then she remembered her interview with Periwinkle and his sidekicks, and the proceedings at the Wizengamot and thought that he probably wasn’t. Also, she could see the malicious logic behind carrying out an attack on the inner sanctuary of a man who preferred to practically live as a recluse. ‘You mean so that you would present yourself badly in court?’
‘Something like that.’ He twitched. ‘It’s not over, that much I can tell you. I was recently informed that there is a plan out there to ruin my reputation, at least. To ruin it beyond repair.’
As his scowl deepened, Elena shifted uncomfortably at the frustration in his words. ‘You did well at the hearing, though’, she said softly. ‘At least that’s what I think.’
Again, there was a flash of his black eyes. ‘What were you doing there, anyway?’ he asked irritably.
The harshness of the question shook her at first, but then she remembered the things he had said, or had been made to say. ‘I wanted to see how you were doing. Plus, I didn’t hear all of it. They wouldn’t let me in at first, because there was a list and I hadn’t put my name down. But I found ways ���’
His mouth twitched. It was, perhaps, a grudging respect for resourcefulness.
‘For example, I completely missed the part when you were questioned about Leshnikov.’
Jack snorted. ‘You didn’t miss much. Every other topic got a more thorough treatment than the actual purpose of the hearing. In fact, it was my impression that they weren’t all that interested in Leshnikov, they thought he was a mess I brought upon myself.’
‘Has anything been found out in the meantime? About him? When I was interviewed, they asked me where he had his base, where he kept his stuff. Of course, I had no idea.’
‘Nor do they’, sneered Daysen. ‘I’m pretty sure no one bothered to put a lot of effort into finding out more.’
‘Then we have to’, Elena said urgently.
‘You will do nothing of that sort!’ He brushed back his hood a little and for the first time since their reunion, he looked her square in the eyes. ‘I, however, am going to meet with Remus Lupin tomorrow. It appears he’s got something important to tell me, at least judging from the place where he wants to meet.’
‘Which place?’
‘A house in London’, he replied uncommunicatively.
‘Are you going to tell me about it?’
‘We’ll see.’
Elena smiled to herself. He was as always. Irritable, bossy and monosyllabic, but that was his way of controlling an uncertain situation. Also, he was still protective of her. She kept thinking that he would never have just whisked her away to talk to her if he didn’t care. As far as she knew, he had hardly any friends or confidants. At the same time, she had no way of telling whether he thought about the night in the lighthouse or whether he had put it entirely out of his mind. Elena had no idea what it meant to him and this fact compounded her uncertainty. Slowly but inevitably, she felt herself gliding back into a situation where a man left her completely in the dark about his feelings. Old patterns enclosed her, as if she was a fly caught in a spider web. How could she possibly break out of it?
For lack of a plan, she tried a change of topic. ‘Can I ask you something, Jack?’
He looked up, surprise in his eyes, maybe at the still unfamiliar use of his first name. It might also have set off some memories. Anyway, he didn’t, as usual, remind her of how much he hated personal questions, but commanded her with a twitch of his head to go on.
‘Why did you tell them about Lawrence McKinnon? You didn’t have to.’
He stared at the table top then. ‘Yes, I did.’
She thought about it. ‘You mean you don’t want to lie anymore? You wa
nt everybody to see you for who you are?’
‘I don’t care about everybody’, he spat, ‘but it is a well-known fact that I was a Death Eater. Would it be believable that I never bloody killed anyone?’
She frowned. ‘Probably not.’
‘Also, you’re right’, he went on, ‘I’ve lied enough. And I figured that seventeen years of working for the Order of the Phoenix and putting my life on the line for a large portion of that time ��� and being almost killed myself, I might add ��� should be enough to ensure that I don’t have to lie anymore.’
‘Do you think there may be consequences, though?’
‘There sure will be. More investigation, more questions ���’
‘What I mean is, do you think that you might be ���’, her voice trailed off.
‘Arrested? Put in jail?’ Jack snorted. ‘It is possible. But again, I hope ��� and trust ��� that my past actions in service of the Order will count for something.’
‘And if that is not the case?’
‘You mean, if they put me on trial for murder?’ He paused, squirmed a little. ‘I’d rather cross that bridge when I get there.’
‘If it comes to it, you could always leave the country. Surely, you’re wizard enough not to be found when you don’t want to?’
But he shook his head ferociously. ‘I’m not going to bolt. That is quite out of the question.’
She scrutinized him uncertainly. ‘Too much pride ���’
‘I know’, he broke in. ‘But I’m not a coward. I cannot run. And I don’t want to discuss it.’
After staring doggedly ahead of himself for a couple of seconds, he hesitantly sought her eyes, found them, and a smile. Something caught. It was like glue, neither of them was able to look away. At last, it was Jack who broke the contact by one of his twitches. Elena groaned inwardly. The night in the lighthouse was spiralling out of sight as she watched on helplessly. How was she ever going to get to him? She might sit here all evening, smile at him, look him openly in the eyes, let him know that she didn’t judge and was on his side, but it didn’t appear to register with him, or at least not to the degree that she so desperately needed him to understand. ‘Break the pattern’, Katja’s voice said in her head. And then suddenly she saw it. There was only one way to break the pattern of doubt and insecurity, of not knowing what was what. Something inside her ��� her coward self ��� recoiled from the realization, wanted to escape and hide. However, a different part of her saw very clearly how that would get her exactly nowhere, not with him, anyway. She had to act.
She whispered Page 17