She whispered

by Lucas Chesterton

  He really hated that, women making a show of being hurt. Then again, she most probably was, and maybe not for the worst of reasons. He breathed deeply before he spoke. ‘It’s not easy for me. You know that.’

  She scoffed while her back remained turned and uncommunicative. Jack saw that he had to make more of an effort ��� which he hated even more and wouldn’t have done for most people. ‘When I told Draco to look after you’, he started labouredly, ‘my aim was first and foremost to protect you from the likes of McVey.’

  ‘I told you, you can’t protect me all the time!’

  His natural reaction would have been to groan and jump out of the car, slam the door shut behind him and be gone. To not do exactly that took a lot of deep breaths. When he spoke eventually, his voice was a little shaky. ‘Too many people have suffered because of me. I won’t let that happen again, not if I can avoid it.’

  No reaction, no turning around. He groaned for real. ‘I do trust you, alright? ��� There you have it! Don’t make me say it again!’

  Slowly, she turned her head. Her face was as impassive as his at times, and would have fooled him, had he not noted the moistness of her eyes. ‘How hard was that?’ she murmured with a withering look at him, but he knew that she was only trying to keep up a fa��ade of pride, was already failing at it and would come around. He felt an easing of tension within himself and recognized it as relief.

  ‘You don’t like Draco, do you?’ he asked unusually gently.

  She fidgeted. ‘I don’t know. There’s something about him ��� this arrogance ��� this golden-spoon-in-his-mouth thing ���’

  ‘Are you sure that this isn’t envy talking? I felt it too, when I was younger. The truth is, Draco is who he is, he was raised with certain standards and values. Of course, it shows. ��� However, Draco went through a very rough time and it has left an imprint. He has changed. He is also, deep down, a good person.’

  Her eyes met his reluctantly. ‘You like him a lot, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. And this is why I’d like to ask you to make an effort. For me. ��� If you can.’ The last words he added in a hurry.

  She stared at her lap for a while. Then she looked up, sought his eyes. ‘Alright’, she said in a small voice.

  ‘Good’, he said, when he really meant ‘Thanks’.

  His eyes fell on the clock on the dashboard. ‘I have to get going’, he said with some alarm. ‘Hogwarts.’

  She nodded and they got out of the car, Daysen carrying the leather folder under his arm. Outside, they stood facing each other a little awkwardly.

  ‘Well’, Elena started, ‘I guess the first thing I’m going to do now is write an owl to Magrathea Crowley. Ask her to accept me for her blasted academy.’

  ‘Demand rather than ask’, Daysen counselled her. ‘She shouldn’t get the impression that you’re begging, as it will make her suspicious. All you’re doing is take her up on her offer. And don’t explain anything unless she asks you right out.’

  ‘I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Good.’ He nodded to her, which was his way of saying goodbye. There was an exchange of looks, and once again their eyes refused to part, but eventually Daysen turned sharply and walked away.

  Elena remained standing by the Mercedes and watched his retreating figure. As always after being with him, her emotions were in upheaval. She just couldn’t figure him out; there were moments when she was almost certain that he cared more than he admitted, that he might even be in love with her, but held back for other reasons, reasons that were hard to understand for her, but made perfect sense in his world and with his psychological set-up. Then again, she might in fact have been no more than a student to him, one he’d had an unfortunate episode with and as a result felt somehow obliged to. She hated that uncertainty and it was what made her mood erratic and unpredictable.

  With a sigh, she turned to the car ��� her car! (at least, there was some pleasure in that realization) ��� discretely whipped out her wand and performed a scouring charm on it. The film of dirt as well as the charming inscription on the bonnet vanished and in the next moment, the car was as clean and shiny as when she had first seen it. She could hardly wait to tell Cassie about it, although, of course, her friend mustn’t know how she’d got it.

  She went home, deep in thought. In her mind, she was composing the owl to Magrathea Crowley. That, at least, took her mind off her inner turmoil, although she was far more apprehensive about the whole thing ��� that she would have to be a spy and that she would be in on it by herself ��� than she had admitted to Jack. However, there was no going back on it now. After all, as of this day she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and she couldn’t help feeling immensely proud about that ���

  Before taking off to Hogwarts, Jack Daysen went back to his house. He wanted to get some books, but most of all, he needed to think something through and was relieved to find everything quiet and seemingly no one about. Only when he entered the sitting room did he hear Gilly’s high-pitched voice in his back.

  ‘Master!’

  ‘I’m not really here’, Jack informed her tersely.

  Gilly ignored this. ‘Does the master need anything?’

  ‘A moment alone, if you please.’

  ‘Of course!’ Gilly hopped away eagerly, but Daysen thought twice.

  ‘Wait! ��� Where is my mother?’

  ‘Mistress Prince has gone out.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Gilly don’t know.’

  Daysen considered this. ‘Does she often go out?’

  ‘Every day, master.’

  ‘And you have no idea on what business?’

  ‘Mistress Prince don’t tell Gilly. Mistress Prince is very private.’

  ‘I guess she is’, he murmured thoughtfully. ‘That’d be all, you can go.’

  Gilly bowed obligingly and disappeared without a sound.

  As soon as she was gone, Jack sat down at his desk and checked the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. He still had about ten minutes, enough to peruse the idea that had sprung up in his mind while discussing Draco with Elena. And while he went over it again, he came to the conclusion that it was a brilliant idea, one that would allow him to kill two birds with one stone, or maybe even three; on the one hand, it would provide protection for Elena as she went about that half-assed academy business; on the other hand, it would provide a good cover, would give the faked ‘falling-out’ a solid base and a very understandable reason; and eventually, it would ensure Draco a place in the Order. It was also a difficult idea, the presenting of which would require tact and diplomacy ��� not usually his strong suits, but hard to avoid. There was also an aspect of it that he didn’t like at all, but he was ready to convince himself that it was a price he had to pay. At the same time, it didn’t in any way diminish the brilliance of what he’d come up with. In fact, the more Jack thought about it, the more pleased he was with himself, so pleased in fact, that he almost overheard the soft rapping at his sitting room window.

  An owl had arrived. Not a black one, but a rare and very elegant breed with a coat of silvery grey. Jack let it in and took the roll of parchment from its foot. The handwriting was vaguely familiar, very neat and feminine.

  Dear Jack,

  It has been a long time since we have last seen each other, so I hope this finds you well. I have been thinking a lot about you recently and I was very happy to find out that you and Draco have reconnected, especially since Lucius is currently a bit under the weather. You cannot imagine how happy it makes me that you are taking an interest; as always when you do, my worries have become less, and for that I am deeply grateful.

  Please join me at Malfoy Manor one of these days. I was thinking about dinner and would love the opportunity to see you and catch up. Sadly, I cannot promise that Lucius will be prepared to join us, but Draco certainly will, and hence, your coming will also be an occasion for me to see my boy aga
in. You can understand that I won’t take ‘No’ for an answer, don’t you?

  I’m waiting for you to get in touch and hope that you will do so soon.

  Affectionately,

  Narcissa

  P.S.: Of course, you can bring someone. Draco mentioned that you might want to, and it will even out the number at the table in Lucius’ absense.

  Daysen let the parchment sink into his lap and tilted back his head against the rest. He didn’t know whether to groan or to laugh out loud at the postscript. Neither could he bring himself to respond right away. Such things had to be considered at length.

  However, Narcissa’s invitation run in a nice parallel to his idea, and hence it was hard to believe in coincidence. It was Elena who had once told him that when fate made things coincide neatly, it usually meant well.

  Only when he was at Hogwarts did he realize how much the invitation as such meant to him, and this put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

  Almost a week passed by without any remarkable occurrence. November ran into December, but the snow of a few weeks before had vanished without a trace and the weather was more reminiscent of a very wet October. Elena divided up her time between working on her thesis and taking up teaching at the dancing school again. Every few days she got up early and ventured out with Cassie to pick winter herbs and dig out roots at the crack of dawn, and it always surprised her how many magical plants could be found even at this time of year with vegetation supposedly resting. She did this to help the Clearys and to earn herself a few Sickles; since she was living in two worlds, she also needed to stay at least halfway afloat in both so as not to feel like a complete scrounger all the time. Plus, staying occupied helped her not to think too much of what would happen if she finally got accepted at the Academy. Not that there were any signs of that yet. Every morning, she waited for an owl to arrive in reply to the one she’d written (under Lux’s careful supervision), asking for admission. However, no owl came, apart from those sent by Lupin and Daysen, asking in an encrypted manner whether she’d had any news yet.

  When more than a week had passed, Elena began to convince herself that she wouldn’t be admitted after all, and she was a little surprised at the relief she felt about that realization. At least, if she didn’t get accepted, there was no need to fake a discord with Jack, a detail that irked her to no end. Not to be able to see him ��� and now, too, when she intuited that their connection was becoming stronger each time they met ��� was something she found hard to accept. Elena was afraid that it might destroy what was developing between them, the growing trust, the increasing dependence upon each other. ��� Of course, she might be imagining all this. Maybe there was nothing between them but wishful thinking on her part. Her mood swings were still considerable. On some days, she was optimistic, almost happy in fact, remembering his intense looks, the way he’d tried to get to her and calm her down when they’d sat in the car together, and she felt as she had at Grimmauld Place, telling herself that they already had a relationship. On other days, however, this seemed like an illusion and she was only able to remember the things that proved the contrary: his reticence; his outbursts of temper with her; the fact that his Patronus was still a doe ��� If truth be told, her days were an eternal struggle to keep the balance between these opposite moods, and Elena had a hard time with it.

  In the evenings, she often couldn’t help gazing out of her bedroom window towards the house on the other side of the street. The sitting room curtains were usually drawn, but there was a discrete glow coming from between the gaps. Eileen Daysen, no, Eileen Prince was still there, as Jack had predicted, and it didn’t look like she was going to leave any time soon. Elena never saw the woman around, though, she was as naturally private as her son. Ever since Jack had told her how his father had died, a shiver ran down Elena’s spine when she thought of the opposite house’s inhabitant. It was hard to put the thought out of her mind that she lived more or less next door to a murderess. What was more, she knew this and did nothing about it. Of course, she didn’t because of Jack, because he had asked her to keep it to herself, which she did, for his sake only which was, however, a strong argument. Privately, she was very wary about that witch and was glad she never encountered her out on the street.

  When she needed to take her mind off things, Elena sometimes went joyriding in her new car. It was a little uncharacteristic for her as she was not a motoring aficionado at all, but in her mind the Mercedes now belonged to Jack and her and taking it out for a spin made her feel close to him. It was a good thing to have it, too, as it helped her to get around, but in an inconspicuous Muggle way. Cassie loved it, as well, and Elena had started to instruct her friend in driving, using the courtyard of an abandoned factory. It was difficult, though. Cassie had never operated any Muggle machines, it wasn’t intuitive to her and it took a while until she was even able to tell the pedals apart. Luckily, the protective charm that Daysen had put on ‘little gnat’ (as Elena had named the car in memory of Pavel Leshnikov’s alias, Komarek) still appeared to be intact, and when Elena parked the vehicle in the discrete spot near the abandoned playground, she put an Obscuring spell on it that made it look battered and ordinary in Muggle eyes and significantly reduced the temptation to steal the thing.

  She used the car to get to the dancing school, as well. This earned her a few glares, especially from her boss Sue who would have very much liked to possess such a car.

  ‘Did you steal it?’ she asked testily one day after watching Elena parking the Mercedes on the curb.

  ‘Yes’, Elena replied with a grin, ‘from a banker, actually.’ If she had to deceive, deceiving with the truth was her most favourite option.

  ‘Ah, get off it!’ Sue scoffed and turned around with a withering glare at ‘little gnat’.

  Micah, her colleague and dancing partner, was far less envious although visibly fascinated. The first time he saw the car, he walked around it, inspecting every angle, and then asked respectfully if he might sit in it.

  ‘Did your boyfriend give it to you?’ he wanted to know, his hands gently gliding over the steering wheel.

  ‘My boyfriend?’ Elena, who sat in the passenger seat, gave him a funny look.

  ‘The black-haired guy with the nose’, Micah explained. He had seen Jack on a few occasions, but never spoken to him because Daysen hadn’t allowed it, hadn’t even acknowledged Micah’s existence. ‘You’re not going to tell me again that he’s your uncle, are you?’

  Elena blushed. She remembered the day that Daysen had first taken her to Diagon Alley; in fact, she had told Micah that he was her uncle who’d take her to buy new dancing shoes. The lie appeared nothing short of ridiculous now. That had been early days, and her relationship with Jack very different from what it was today, though even then ��� and, if truth be told, from the moment of their first encounter ��� she had been deeply fascinated. ‘Yeah, you’re right’, she said hastily to Micah, ‘he got it for me.’

  Micah surveyed the dashboard with its instruments, the expensive leather seats, the luxurious mahogany gearshift. ‘He must be really fond of you’, he remarked.

  ‘Yeah’, Elena said sarcastically, ‘a guy’s affections can always be measured in horsepower, can’t it?’

  ‘Definitely!’ said Micah with a grin. ‘Anyway, I hope you’re happy.’ This a little wistful, as Micah had always had a ‘thing’ for her, and Elena had had a minor ‘thing’ for him as well, right up to when she’d met Jack. ‘And it’s great you’re back!’

  This referred to her weeks of absence after the smoke poisoning, and Micah sounded sincere. Elena saw that he had also resigned himself to the new developments and as they took up their dancing training, the atmosphere was as easy going as ever. Maybe, with a little luck, she hadn’t just lost an admirer, but gained a friend. She and Micah discussed new classes that they were going to introduce at the school, specifically a Salsa course, and practiced the steps they were going to teach. There were also a
number of new students ��� mostly soon-to-be-married couples practicing for their spring weddings ��� and they discussed how Elena could pitch in. It didn’t take long for her to get back into it, although after the first few training sessions she felt the long break she’d taken and had sore calves and feet for days.

  One late afternoon and after two hours of going through Slow fox technique in detail (it seemed inconceivable how a dance that looked so romantically floating and dreamy could be such hard work), she left the studio to find none other than Draco Malfoy waiting at the reception. He leant against the counter, hair falling dashingly into his face, and had involved Sue into a conversation that quite obviously fascinated the older woman to no end, which was telling in itself because Sue was a hardened business woman and not easily impressed.

  ‘Hi there’, he said lazily when he saw Elena, ‘you look in desperate need of a shower.’

  In fact, she was sweaty all over with dark rings under her armpits.

  ‘Slow fox’, Sue purred at him temptingly, batting her lashes, ‘how about it, dear? We’ll make you sweat in no time, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you, Sue, that’s tempting’, Draco replied smoothly and with a surprisingly charming smile, ‘I might take you up on it.’

  ‘Really?’ Elena raised a sarcastic eyebrow. Looking at him how he stood there, exuding nonchalance and carelessness, in black denims, crisp white shirt, black leather jacket and well-polished shoes (all of it simple, all of it visibly expensive), she momentarily forgot her resolution to be nice to him. ‘I’d like to see that!’

  ‘Don’t be like this, Ellie’, Sue hissed, admonishing her with carefully painted eyes not to be edgy to potential clients.

  ‘Don’t worry, she’s only being her charming self’, Draco drawled, his eyes flashing at Elena amusedly. ‘Actually, I’m a good dancer. Or that’s what I’ve been told.’

  ‘Well, then ��� what are you waiting for?’ Sue gave him a dazzling smile. Before she vanished into her office behind the reception counter, Elena saw her mouth ‘Who’s the cutie?’ behind Draco’s back.