‘But?’
‘Why then? That’s what I was never able to find out. About thirty years she’d stuck it out with him, refused to leave him for reasons that were flimsy and hypocritical at best, and then, suddenly, she poisons him!’
Elena sought carefully to find the right words for what she wanted to ask next. ‘Were there any ��� consequences?’
‘You mean, did I report her? Of course not. She’s my mother. I couldn’t report her for killing a man on whose hands she had suffered for decades! And yet ���’
‘Yet it shocked you.’
‘I don’t know what really shocked me so much. The point in time? The manner? A poisoning by Devil’s Sage is very painful, agonizing even. I just never expected that she would do a thing like that.’
‘How did she react? When he died?’
‘Cried for days on end.’ Jack raised his shoulders in a clueless shrug that would have been funny in any other context.
Now that was peculiar. Crying for a husband who had abused you for decades? It did nothing to give Elena a clearer picture of Eileen Daysen; if anything, it became vaguer.
‘Since you were asking about consequences’, Jack went on, getting up from the armchair again as it was obviously difficult for him to stay calm, ‘my consequence was to insist that my mother and I go separate ways from that time on. In fact, we agreed that we would never meet each other again. That was my punishment, and as you can see she completely ignores it. I don’t even get the feeling that she has a bad conscience! Whenever I start on the subject, she evades it or rebukes me for dwelling in the past. ��� By all rights, I should throw her out. That, however ���’ He closed his mouth to a thin line.
‘Of course you can’t throw her out’, Elena said gently, ‘she’s your mother.’
‘And as you know, someone like me cannot really claim that they cannot be expected to live under the same room as a murderess, because I am no less than a murderer myself ���’
‘Come on!’ Elena cried. ‘That is ���’
‘Different?’ A sardonic black flash from his eyes. ‘How?’
She didn’t know what to say. Then, however, her mind took her back to her original question. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’
‘Do you remember what we were told? By that voice? ��� Bad imitation of the Dark Lord’s voice, by the way, another cheap try at instilling fear ���’
‘Like I said, it did the trick for me. ��� But what exactly are you referring to?’
‘That they know about all the Half-Blood Prince’s dark secrets? Secrets that could ruin him and those close to him? ��� The Half-Blood Prince, that’s me.’
Elena thought about this for a while and eventually discovered the play on his mother’s maiden name. ‘Are you known by that name?’
‘To some. It’s a kind of inside knowledge, though. Which makes me wonder whether someone might know.’
‘You fear they might be trying to blackmail you about what your mother did’, Elena drew the inevitable conclusion. ‘But how might anyone know?’
‘Again, I have no idea. However, I know from experience that secrets have a tendency to get out. And the whole situation, her being here and refusing to leave, and now of all times ���’
‘You think there is a connection?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
Jack had taken to pacing the room again, but eventually stood still and stared ahead of himself. He looked confused and forlorn. Elena would have liked nothing better than to console him, but she found that she couldn’t. It would have made her feel like a hypocrite. At the same time, the fact that he had told her this secret, this very personal detail of his very private life, touched her deeply.
In this moment, she made up her mind. She would call off her agreement with McVey, tell him that she refused to snoop into Daysen’s or his family’s life only to ‘help him’ in that vague way the peculiar goblin-slash-wizard had suggested. She told herself that the best ��� and most honest ��� way of helping Jack was to be loyal and open towards him and not harbour any secret schemes. She had learnt today how important trust was to him, and now he trusted her by telling her the harrowing story of his father’s death. There was no way she could find it in her heart to betray him.
She looked up suddenly when she felt his eyes resting on her.
‘You won’t tell, will you?’ There was a pleading note in his voice.
‘No, Jack, I won’t’, she promised, looking into his eyes. ‘I promise you I will never do anything that might get you into trouble. Even less so after today.’
Their gazes engaged and once more it was nigh impossible to break the contact. Jack’ glare was particularly intense and at first he seemed to scowl. However, after a while she saw that it was only raw emotion; and gradually, the tension dropped. Then, very slowly, a smile came to his face while he held on to her gaze as if for dear life. The smile was grateful and almost gentle. It made her heart beat so madly she was on the brink of a hiccup.
The scare of the hellhound attack remained with Elena for quite a number of days. By the time Jack had taken her home that night, she had believed that it was over and the shock had worn off. It only proved that she knew nothing about scares yet.
In the following nights, the hellhounds came back in her dreams. They cornered her, fixed her with their unnaturally violet eyes, growled and sniffed her up. Every time the dreams inevitably brought her to the point where she expected the bite any second, could in fact feel the tips of the ragged fangs scraping her skin. And every time she woke up with a jolt, heart drumming, lungs pumping, only just able to stifle a scream. It was the memory of Jack holding her in his arms and soothing her that calmed her down enough so she was eventually able to go back to sleep.
However, she noticed, too, how her psychological make-up was beginning to change. When she mused about what had happened, she felt that she was beginning to resign herself to the dangers of the wizarding world. Not that she liked them or couldn’t have done without them; but she started to accept them as part of a much harsher reality than the one she had known in her Muggle life. Being a witch was great, one of the best things that had ever happened to her; but it came at a price. Yet, even if it had been possible she would never have given up her magical powers only to have a more quiet life. After all, she decided whenever she thought about all this, life wasn’t about peace and quiet, it was about being lived fully, ups and downs, scares and tenderness included.
She was thinking about all this a few days after the incident of the hellhounds, and at a quite uncharacteristic hour. Cassie Cleary had repeated her offer that Elena accompany her and help her as she went picking herbs, and after the third time round Elena had felt that she could not let her new friend wait any longer. It wasn’t that she was uninterested, the actual problem being that Cassie insisted on going herb hunting before the crack of dawn. Elena was anything but an early bird.
However, she managed somehow and so, one very early morning, she found herself in some marshland where plants sprouted wildly on soft breeding soil. Her otherwise so happy-go-lucky friend became very serious as soon as they arrived. She showed Elena the plants that she wanted, equipped her with a small knife and sent her hunting, and for a while they searched in silence, backs bent, in the bitterly cold pre-morning air. The job they were doing reminded Elena of Jack, of course, folding up the sleeves of his robes ��� exposing the eerie-looking Dark Mark ��� and groping in black pond water.
She straightened up, her eyes searching for Cassie. ‘Is it true that Gillyweed is hard to ���’
‘Shshsh!’ Cassie hissed. ‘Don’t wake up the plants before you cut them! That’s cruel!’
‘Oh!’ Elena clamped her mouth shut and went on with her work.
Only when the first strip of light appeared on the horizon did Cassie put a stop to their activities and announced that they should go back. ‘I’m sure Janie made breakfast for us’
, she said with an enticing smile, ‘I told her to stack up on coffee.’
Elena grinned broadly at that. A cup of good strong coffee was always fine news as far as she was concerned. They walked a little bit further over the soft, wet ground and much as Jack had done on their trip to the pond, Cassie explained the plants they had just picked, what they were for and why it was important to cut them before dawn. Elena listened politely and not without interest, but there was no denying that she just wasn’t the plant type. She forgot the different species easily or mixed them up. From Cassie’s determined face, however, she knew that her friend would not give up on her so easily. On the plus side, Cassandra Cleary had far more patience than Jack Daysen.
Elena’s new friend was just explaining about a bluish-coloured flower she had found among a heap of weed and that could be used to sweeten particularly bitter potions and make them more agreeable to the stomach, when a ferocious bark rang across the marshland. A violent jolt went through Elena and she turned wildly in all directions.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cassie asked, irritated.
‘Didn’t you hear that?’
‘Dog barking’, Cassie said with a shrug, ‘bloody fascinating.’
In that moment, Elena saw a figure quite a few yards away, walking briskly and with a very jumpy ��� and probably very young ��� dog at its side. She exhaled. It was clearly a Muggle, taking an early-morning walk.
‘Why are you so pale?’ Cassie demanded with a frown of worry on her face.
Elena sighed. ‘I’ve had a scare’, she intimated and went on to explain to her friend what had happened while they walked a further stretch over the marsh. By the end of her story, Cassie looked glum.
‘What’s happening? First satyrs, now hellhounds ���’
Elena looked at her sharply, but kept her mouth shut. Telling Cassie about the scare was one thing, but sharing Jack’ theories on the incident quite another. ‘Something’s clearly going on’, she said in a noncommittal manner.
‘And masks? Good Lord, that sounds like very recent history!’
‘Se��� The Professor said something very similar. He said the voice that spoke to us was a clumsy imitation of the way Voldemort spoke. Hissing, like a snake.’
‘I remember.’ Cassie shuddered visibly.
‘I wouldn’t know, of course. The voice reminded me of someone entirely different.’
‘Who?’
‘Leshnikov. ��� Well, not the voice, exactly, but the wording. Same cheap threatening sarcasm.’
‘How many ways are there to be threatening?’
‘Maybe you’re right. Probably most villains aren’t exactly original. And I might only have had that impression because the last time I was that scared was when Leshnikov kidnapped me.’ She shook her head. ‘At least I hope that this is the reason.’
Cassie looked up at her uncertainly. ‘What d’you mean? That Leshnikov guy’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘Very probably’, Elena replied.
‘You don’t think that he ���’
‘Survived? In dragon fire? It’s not very likely; Sev��� the Professor said so, too.’
Cassie chuckled. ‘You know, Elena, you may call him ‘Jack’ in my presence. It won’t make me puke.’
The morning was way too young for Cassie to see her reddening cheeks, and yet Elena sensed that her friend was suppressing a grin.
‘Let’s go back’, Cassie said instead, stretching out her hand to Elena, ‘coffee awaits.’
Elena was glad that Cassie took over the job of Apparating both of them back to Cleary’s potions shop. Her own mind was suddenly occupied and she would probably have done a bad job, having only recently passed her Apparition exam. Who was lurking at the back of her mind was none other than Pavel Volodimir Leshnikov. Ever since the hearing, she had not allowed herself all too many thoughts of him, but now the memory was like a very bad dream that seemed to belong to a different life.
‘Next time, we could go by broom’, Cassie suggested as they popped up in Diagon Alley, in close proximity to ‘Cleary’s Clearest Potions’, ‘I love flying in the morning, it wakes me up.’
‘Can’t’, Elena mumbled.
‘You can’t ride a broom?’ Cassie’s disbelieving stare wasn’t exactly flattering. ‘Sorry, I keep forgetting that you haven’t been doing all this until a short while ago. But not being able to ride a broom ���’
‘Get over it’, Elena grumbled, slightly irritated. ‘At least I can drive a car, which is more than most wizarding folks can say for themselves ���’
‘You can drive a car?’ The look of bewilderment in Cassie’s eyes changed to grudging admiration. ‘Really?’
Elena nodded. ‘Cars are my world’s brooms.’
‘Will you show me? How to drive?’
‘Would if I could. I don’t have a car.’
‘Maybe we could get one?’
‘Where do you want me to get a car if not steal one?’
‘We could steal one.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous ���’
‘I’m not, I’m a witch!’
‘Bah! Stealing a car ���’ A flippant remark was on the tip of Elena’s tongue, but it got stuck in her throat.
Something had suddenly occurred to her, something having to do with a car. The idea came very suddenly, but when she looked at it, it was so obvious that she wondered why she hadn’t had it earlier. She wondered whether anyone else might have had it. However, judging from the state of affairs she had recently witnessed, she wouldn’t have been surprised if this wasn’t the case. And she smiled.
‘Ah! May I infer from the look on your face that you just had an idea on how to steal a car?’
Elena watched as Cassie unlocked the door to the potions shop with a lazy Alohomora. ‘I might’, she said mysteriously, ‘I just might.’
As they slipped into the still dark shop, a mixture of smells came wafting towards them. It was not unlike the scent that always lingered in Jack’ robes, slightly sulphuric with a strong herbal note. Vials and jars were lined up on shelves and there was a large wall where all kinds of cauldrons were hung up on hooks for display. Along with all the other instruments necessary for making potions, the shop space looked cramped even in darkness; behind the counter, a narrow corridor led towards a door that was half-open. A cosy glow of light came from it as well as the distinct aroma of coffee, and Elena steered towards it immediately; however, she was held back by Cassie who grabbed her wrist.
‘Look! What is he doing out there?’
Cassie was standing by one of the shop windows, peering out of it. Made curious, Elena closed up to her and looked. A few yards away from the shop stood a figure on Diagon Alley where business was only hesitantly coming to life at this early hour. It was the slim figure of a very fair-haired young man in elegant wizarding clothes; he appeared interested in the displays of a neighbouring shop, but his body language bespoke a degree of uncertainty as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
‘Do you know him?’ Elena asked with knit eyebrows.
Cassie snorted. ‘Everyone knows Draco Malfoy!’
‘Celebrity, is he?’
‘That’s what he likes to think.’
‘Thought so’, Elena replied with a hint of satisfaction in her voice. ‘I met him recently, at the Professor’s. Arrogant brat, if you ask me.’
‘But what is he doing here? I mean, he doesn’t exactly look like an early riser, does he?’
‘No.’ In fact, to Elena Draco looked like someone who’d rather lie in until lunchtime. While watching him, her brows had climbed higher and higher. The young wizard’s presence irked her because she could not explain its purpose and had a funny feeling itching at the back of her head. However, in the next moment the door to the shop the windows of which Draco had admired opened and the young Malfoy was ushered in by an eagerly beckoning arm.
Elena straightened up. A coincidence, after all.
‘Gir
ls? What are you doing standing there like that?’
From the rooms behind the counter, a young man had quietly come into the shop space, carrying a Lumos with him. He was quite tall and wore a slightly tattered suit with a jacket that was a little too taut around his athletic shoulders. His eyes and hair were a dark brown and he looked handsome in a way that would bring an unconscious smile to any woman’s lips. Elena felt it come to hers, as well. The Clearys were very clearly a good-looking bunch.
‘Observing a Death Eater, sir’, Cassie replied with a mock salute, ‘you gotta watch those.’
However, Castor Cleary was unimpressed. ‘Have you got the herbs? ‘Cause if you made a balls-up and I can’t get that special Hair-Raising Potion ready by afternoon, I might as well pack up and close this sorry excuse for a shop!’ He cast a small apologetic smile at Elena.
‘Never fear, big brother’, Cassie chimed out happily and handed him the bag with the plants they had picked. ‘Wouldn’t leave you in a lurch, would I?’
But Castor wasn’t mollified. He took the bag and checked on the herbs with a critical look in this eyes. Eventually, however, his expression softened and he nodded. ‘Good. Go have breakfast, then.’ With that, he slouched off towards the set of stairs leading down into the basement where the potions were cooked.
‘He’s in a gracious mood’, Cassie remarked, but the smile on her face was good-natured.
‘He’s tense’, Elena replied.
‘Yeah. He had his eyes on a really huge order, but it didn’t come through at the last moment. Would’ve tied us over for the next few months.’ Cassie sighed, suddenly worried.
Elena had an idea. ‘Do you have Gillyweed? I mean, good Gillyweed. Not the one that rots so quickly ���’
‘We don’t have stuff that rots!’ Cassie declared with a raised chin, but then she became eager. ‘Sure we do, I got some only days ago and I’m sure its fine. I know of this portkey to La Croix Valmer in the South of France, and there is a wonderful Gillyweed spot ���’ She interrupted herself, looked at Elena curiously. ‘For Daysen?’
She whispered Page 35