Chapter Six - Au Natural
Gabrielle decided that reading the charms textbook actually was a good way to pass the time. Mrs. Weasley had promised to bring up a plate for her later. Gabrielle didn't mind missing dinner, since without the twins there she would probably be expected to sit next to Fleur. Or Tonks, she laughed, as her hair now turned the same vivid pink that the auror favored.
Gabrielle's hair had gone from Tonks' pink, to a deep purple, to the current flaming orange before she heard Mrs. Weasley coming again. Expecting the tray, Gabrielle opened the door before she could knock.
"Ah, thanks, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. She entered and set the tray on Gabrielle's bed. "I'm afraid I have to apologize - Ron ate the rest of the ham. I thought you might like to try this muggle salad that Arthur found. It's a Waldo salad, a bit lighter than my normal cooking."
"I like your cuisine," assured Gabrielle. Mrs. Weasley smiled at that. "How is Monsieur Moody?"
"Alastor is improved. Still has a tremendous headache though. And quadruple vision apparently," said the Weasley matron. "Umm, this probably won't surprise you, but Fleur is angry with you."
It did not surprise Gabrielle. "It was ze smoke. To Fleur, I embarrass the family."
"In this case, I think she wanted a bigger audience for her announcement. She blames you for the twins not being there."
"What announcement? Is it somezing about the ze wedding?" queried Gabrielle. Fleur can show no consideration for others, thought Gabrielle. If she has changed the day, or invited many more people, I shall steal Ginny's wand and set her on fire. Mrs. Weasley shouldn't have to put up with such rudeness.
"Oh no, dear," replied Mrs. Weasley, interrupting Gabrielle's internal seething. "She and Bill have bought a cottage on the other side of the village, closer to the High street but still very private. Quite surprising, really. I, um, don't know what to make of it quite yet."
Gabrielle knew what to make of it. It was wonderful news. If Fleur lived in Ottery St. Catchpole, then she would not be at Delacour manor reporting every minor transgression to Maman. Gabrielle would seem better behaved, saving her spot at Beauxbatons. And Fleur wouldn't be able to drag up 'The List' at every opportunity to embarrass Gabrielle either. Maman would certainly allow Gabrielle to vacation with Fleur during the summers, which would let her visit the Burrow too.
"I can see you like the idea," noted Mrs. Weasley. "I'll let her know you're excited for her if I see Fleur."
Gabrielle knew she was grinning madly. Fleur living near the Burrow was close to a perfect situation. She hoped the travel restrictions wouldn't get worse. "I am zinking about how I will be able to visit ze Burrow again."
"That's sweet," smiled Mrs. Weasley. "You would be welcome any time." She fingered a lock of Gabrielle's hair, "I guess you'll be staying in for the rest of the night?"
"I zink so, I will read more of ze book of charms."
"All right then," said Mrs. Weasley as she stood to leave. "By the way, if you are wondering about the color, it's Chudley Cannon orange." Gabrielle nodded as Mrs. Weasley left, and assumed Ron had helped with the colors.
v - v - v - v - v
Gabrielle was excited by the news, and found it difficult to concentrate on reading. She shifted restlessly about the room, and discovered that Ginny seemed to be stealing Harry's clothes. At least, she assumed the 'H' on the jumper she found on Ginny's bed meant it was Harry's. It looked small, so it probably didn't fit him anymore. The jumper also had a jagged hole in one of the arms, the edges of which looked bleached or burned by an acid. Possibly a potion-making accident, thought Gabrielle. Setting aside the jumper, she paced over to her trunk, then back to the bed.
She paused on her second lap to examine her hair in Ginny's mirror. It was now the blackest she had ever seen hair. This might be a good prank, Gabrielle thought, but it would be a nightmare fashion-wise. Only black would suit all the colors. Unless you only used it as a highlight. Perhaps, wondered Gabrielle, you could get alternating stripes if you waited fifteen minutes between applications. That would be something to try.
Gabrielle's hair turned white by the time she was considering braving Fleur's ridicule. There was nothing that would hold her interest in the room she shared with Ginny. If only, thought Gabrielle, I could turn invis... ible...
v - v - v - v - v
With the cloak on and her shoes off, Gabrielle crept through the hallway to the stairs. Fleur's room was on the next landing down. Invisible is not silent - that was something Philippe had read, but Gabrielle didn't think muggles could become invisible. Although, she thought and nearly laughed out loud, how would you tell?
The door was ajar and there was candlelight in Fleur's room. For a moment, Gabrielle thought of turning around and going back upstairs. She had to remind herself that she could not be seen, since she could of course see herself under the cloak. Gabrielle sidled over slowly to the door and peeked in. Bill sat in an armchair with Fleur perched on his lap. Gabrielle could see her sister looked annoyed again.
"... studying zee charms - eet eez not true!" accused Fleur. Gabrielle could see Bill whispering into Fleur's ear, but couldn't hear him.
"Ah no, zat eez true. I just know zat she eez again 'iding zee prank by your brozzers. Why else would zey miss dinner also?" Fleur shifted a little on Bill's lap and pushed him on the shoulder. "Stop zat now." Bill gave Fleur a sad look and nuzzled her ear.
"But what eez to become of 'er? She dresses as ze poor muggle and behaves as if she 'ad no upbringing," Fleur complained. Gabrielle bristled - the clothes she bought herself were used, but in very good condition, for the most part. Fleur sighed softly as Bill kissed his way up her neck to her ear for his reply.
"I said stop zat," wriggled Fleur. "I 'ave bought 'er new clothes; so 'as my mozzer." Bill leaned toward Fleur's ear again, and his hand disappeared from view. "But she 'as no taste, she 'as no - ooh..." moaned Fleur quietly. Gabrielle's face heated up; this was definitely a private conversation. Bill tightened his grip and whispered some more. He also licked Fleur's ear, which Gabrielle thought was a little gross.
"Uhn... zat you can keep doing," murmured Fleur. "Why do you take 'er side?" Whatever Bill said to Fleur made her squirm. "As you say. I will let 'er make zee mistakes. My mozzer will not be so forgiving zhough - oh! If you must do zat, seal ze door!"
Bill had his wand out in a flash, and the door swung shut firmly with an odd sucking sound. Gabrielle jumped back in surprise. Being invisible, thought Gabrielle, is hard. No one can watch out for you.
Gabrielle was surprised how Bill had disagreed with Fleur. She had also thought, along with the Weasley siblings, that Fleur would get her way in all things. To have Bill take her side against Fleur's was even more unexpected as Bill had never seemed to pay her much attention. She would have to see what Fleur would really do.
Gabrielle made her way slowly to the stairs again. She was sure that Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen. Tonks, and perhaps some of the other aurors who always seemed to show up around meal time, might have stayed after and she might overhear something that would explain why they are here. The aurors all seemed to know Harry, and Alastor Moody was obviously working with Harry and Ron. That didn't seem to be why the others were here each night, though. Mr. Weasley was constantly at work at the Ministry, but Gabrielle knew he didn't work with the aurors. It was possible that the aurors were all helping with security for the wedding, since there would be many guests from Gringotts and the British and French Ministries. Maybe she would hear when it would be possible to go outside. Not that the weather was particularly nice lately. It had turned chilly with a damp, dismal fog clinging to the trees most of the morning. The weather at home was much nicer, thought Gabrielle.
She reached the entry hall undetected, and was stopped by the closed door to the kitchen. How, Gabrielle wondered, do you open a door if you are not supposed to be there? Obviously she just couldn't open the door. If it had been a poltergeist rattling the walls instead of Moody's head, then they might believe a door would just suddenly open. There appeared to be no alternative to simply waiting for someone else to go through the door.
Waiting for a door to open was boring, so Gabrielle turned her attention to the dim light from the sitting room. In the gloom she could see Tonks sitting very close to the man who had arrived with Hermione this morning. He didn't really look well. Tonks was pulling his hands to her and whispering. Gabrielle tried to slip closer to see if this was Tonks' boyfriend, but she retreated when she saw Hermione's cat staring at and tracking her as she moved. Hermione said she could understand Crookshanks; what if others could too? Gabrielle crept back into the entry hall and over to the kitchen door, which was still closed. To her horror, Crookshanks followed. He sat with his bushy tail curled around him, in front of the kitchen door, staring right into Gabrielle's eyes.
"(Eh, please, eh, Crookshanks,)" Gabrielle whispered. "(I am not hurting anything.)" Crookshanks twitched his tail, and continued to stare. Gabrielle tried again, "I am not hurting anyzing. I want to see what is happening in ze kitchen."
Crookshanks tilted his head and seemed to consider this. The cat then stretched up the door, and began scratching at it like he was sharpening his claws. Gabrielle stood frozen half in panic and half in amazement as the door was opened by Hermione.
"Crookshanks, you naughty boy, what are you doing?" asked Hermione. Crookshanks used his paws to dig at the gap at the bottom of the door and his head to push on it. Hermione swung it open further. "What is it you're looking for?"
Once the door was open fully, the ginger cat flopped on its side with its back against the door. It looked at Gabrielle, then turned its attention to chewing Hermione's shoe laces.
"I thought you imperturbed the door," said Harry.
"I did. I think Crooksies is half-kneazle. He only seems to notice magic when he feels like it, don't you my widdle kitty?" replied Hermione as she scratched the cat under the chin. Gabrielle realized what was going on, and slipped past Hermione into the room. Ginny, Harry, Ron, and the auror known as Shack were seated at the table, which had a large sheet of parchment on it. Gabrielle settled slowly onto the floor next to the sideboard again.
"Can we get back to business here?" asked the black auror in his deep voice.
"Yeah. I think it is time, Ginny, that we got on with things," Harry said while giving Ginny a determined look.
Ginny's face fell and she chewed her lip, but she stood, "All right, I'm going. Just remember I kept my side of the bargain when it comes time to keep yours."
"What's that about?" asked Ron after Ginny left.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "I just don't want her, you know, involved with what were doing."
"That doesn't sound like Ginny to me," said Ron. "She wouldn't just leave like that. What did you promise her anyway?"
"That's not really any business of yours, Ron," informed Hermione. She returned to the table with her pet overflowing her arms, and Harry drew his wand and re-spelled the door.
"I didn't really promise her anything," said Harry. "Let's get on with the trip plan."
"Oh ho! You're in for it now, mate," crowed Ron. "You either don't know or don't understand what you promised - she'll have you over a barrel!"
"Ginny wouldn't do that," said Harry, but he sounded uncertain.
"Dunno for sure, but she can scheme as well as Fred and George. You've seen that," Ron reminded Harry.
"Can we get on with the plan?" interjected the auror.
"Yes, I quite agree, Mr. Shacklebolt," added Hermione.
"Just Kingsley will do," replied the auror.
Gabrielle listened as the auror, Kingsley, explained the route given to him by Alastor Moody. It cheered Gabrielle somewhat to learn the auror's name, as she had never really been comfortable thinking of him as 'Shack'. Kingsley described a complicated route, full of apparitions and broom flights. She had gotten to Hogwarts herself by port-key and carriage, so she had no idea how far it actually was. But this plan sounded like it would take all day. Gabrielle wished she could point out that people with head injuries may not have the clearest thoughts, but that would give her away.
It turned out that Ron had the same thought. Once Kingsley completed drawing zigzagging lines on the parchment with his wand, Ron summed it up, "Mad-Eye hit his head pretty hard, didn't he?"
"Moody has decades of experience moving covertly, and is a stickler for security," replied the auror. "He always uses more than one way of moving."
"But this could take all day," complained Harry. "The twins went to Hogwarts this morning, and were back before breakfast!"
"They don't have He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named personally trying to kill them," replied the Kingsley.
"Why can't we use port-keys? There seems to be an awful lot of unnecessary, er, flying," added Hermione. Gabrielle could see she was definitely paler.
"Unfortunately, it was Dumbledore who supplied the Order with port-keys. Brooms aren't very popular outside those of school age and quidditch, because of the danger of muggles seeing them. Day-time flights with disillusionment are an advantage we have," answered Kingsley firmly. Hermione sagged.
"Look," the auror continued, "it'll only be the three of you and Bitters Savage together, with two advance guards watching out ahead of you. It really is the smallest operation."
"You're not coming with us?" asked Ron in surprise.
"No. My duties at the Ministry prevent me. Bitters is good - better if you only call him Mr. Savage. Don't call him Bit Savage," explained Kingsley.
"Shack, why are we going through the Forbidden Forest after we reach the outskirts of Hogsmeade?" asked Harry. "Wouldn't be safer to take the path and get into Hogwarts sooner?"
"No cover on the path. You've been in the Forest before - it shouldn't be a problem," replied Kingsley.
"I met Voldemort in there once, and was nearly killed two other times," noted Harry. Gabrielle jerked at the name, and banged her head against the wall. The cloak must have deadened the sound, as no one turned toward her. "I would rather apparate to Hogsmeade and fly in from there. That would take about twenty minutes tops. The Death Eaters would have no time to react."
"Look, Harry, this is the plan that's in play. The advance guards were already briefed and dispatched. Trying to recall them now could compromise them," declared Kingsley. Gabrielle could tell Hermione wasn't happy. The older witch was wringing her hands and fidgeting.
"I, er, I don't, uh, have a broom," said Hermione quietly.
"No problem. We've got some older ones in the broom shed outside," said Ron. "Old Comets and Shooting Stars might be a bit slow compared to a Firebolt, but you'll, um... oh." The look Hermione gave Ron stopped him.
"I don't have a broom," said Hermione again carefully, "because I hate them. I can barely fly."
"You can fly with me," said Ron hopefully, and the tips of his ears reddened.
"Then there will be even less broom for me to hold onto!" exclaimed Hermione.
"But I'll be holding onto you," reassured Ron.
"And leave me to do the hanging onto the broom for both of us? Forget it! I'm sorry, I can't do this," spluttered Hermione.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair a few times. "Look, it's all right, Hermione. You don't need to come with us this time, and we'll take this into account next trip. Maybe you can use Buck, er, Whitherwings for flying, or... or a thestral - you've done that before. And sticking charms. Lots of sticking charms. Hermione was shaking her head. Gabrielle was surprised by Hermione's reluctance. Gabrielle had ridden on a broom with her father and found it fun. Even the fall from the broom when Fleur had given her a ride, after Fleur's first year at Beauxbatons, hadn't soured her opinion. I probably wouldn't even have been hurt, thought Gabrielle, if it hadn't been for the wrought iron fence around Delacour manor. She absently rubbed the site of the exit wound.
"And we'll find some books on creating port-keys in the library," continued Harry. "That's too important a skill to be lost. I'm absolutely positive you can do something there."
"And some books on the Fidelius charm, too," suggested Hermione, perking back up. "And, if you can find it - it should have been at the end of row 'C' of the Restricted Section, just above..."
"Oy, Hermione. If you want to carry all these books, you'll need to come along!" blurted Ron. "I mean, er, I... I am an idiot." Ron struggled to say anything coherent when Hermione turned to him with a hurt look in her eyes.
"Well that may be true, but I do think we'll have enough to be getting on with this trip," said Harry. "Besides, it'll give you a reason to learn to make a port-key properly."
"So it'll just be Savage, Harry, and Ron then," summed up Kingsley. "You'll need to get an early start tomorrow, be ready at 0700." Ron looked horrified, but didn't say anything.
The auror stood to leave. "I'll see you two off in the morning. Good night to you all; I'll see myself out the back door." Gabrielle scrunched herself into a tighter ball to avoid being stepped on as people shuffled about. Ron, in particular, had very large feet and wasn't very careful with them. At one point Harry seemed to be staring right at her quite intently, but Hermione interrupted him with some tea as she and Ron sat back down.
"Found anything on R.A.B.?" asked Harry.
"No. I couldn't match up any of the well-known wizards or witches last term, and didn't have any resources in Majorica," answered Hermione.
"Are these all the biscuits there were?" wondered Ron.
"I brought extra for you, and you can have mine if you're that hungry. Honestly, Ron. We're trying to brainstorm here," snapped Hermione.
"You brought me extra?" smiled Ron. This, thought Gabrielle, is just sad. Little kids get excited over extra pastry. What does she see in him?
"Right," said Ron with a clap of his hands. "Why do we think this bloke is famous?"
"Not so much famous, more like powerful. When I went with Dumbledore to the cave, he thought we were being sort of weighed for magic," explained Harry. "I figured whoever R.A.B. is would be more like Dumbledore than Crabbe."
"If he got in before all the protections were there, though, then could he be any average witch or wizard?" wondered Ron. He was already into Hermione's share of the biscuits. Gabrielle wondered if there were more in the kitchen. They looked good.
"No, not any witch or wizard," said Harry slowly. "They would need to be close to Voldemort."
"Not like Crabbe junior, but like Crabbe senior," declared Hermione. "The Ministry should have a list of known and suspected Death Eaters from before. That should give us at least a few possibilities to look at. Oh Ron, I could kiss you!"
Gabrielle could see this idea pleased Ron. It might have been very romantic if it wasn't the same expression he had worn when he heard about the extra pastry. Harry looked bemused. "Well, get on with it then," said Harry, covering his eyes. Hermione leaned across and kissed Ron fully on the lips, then gave him a longer kiss.
"Is it over yet?" asked Harry.
"He tastes like chocolate," noted Hermione after settling back into her seat.
"Didn't need to know that," muttered Harry. Hermione blushed. "We had better head up, Ron. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
The trio stood to leave, and Gabrielle made to get up. She couldn't, however, because Crookshanks was sitting on the cloak bunched up on the floor. The cat yowled and mewed.
"I'm sorry Crookshanks. You had your dinner. You can have more chicken tomorrow," admonished Hermione.
The three teens left the kitchen and Gabrielle could hear them going up the stairs. They had left a single candle burning in a holder on the table. Crookshanks eyes glowed with light reflected from it. He yowled and mewed like before, and very purposefully put his paws on Gabrielle's leg.
Gabrielle realized the noises he made weren't only like before, but were exactly as before. Crookshanks wanted chicken, and he expected Gabrielle to fetch it for him. I am, thought Gabrielle, being blackmailed by a cat. Is it even possible to fall further?
"You want ze chicken still?" whispered Gabrielle. Crookshanks moved over to the icebox door, then stared back at Gabrielle. He again yowled and mewed, only this time his tail lashed. "Yes, yes. I am coming."
It took Gabrielle some time to find the platter of leftover chicken, as the icebox was very crowded. She put the platter on the counter, and selected two chunks of breast meat. She bent down to offer these to Crookshanks; he jumped onto her back and onto the counter, then sped off with a leg and thigh dangling between his bandy front legs. Gabrielle sighed and put the chicken away. There wasn't much left of it now. She took the last of the biscuits to cheer herself up.
With no one in the entry hall, she could slip out of the kitchen and make her way upstairs. The candles were still lit in the sitting room, but Gabrielle decided that she had had enough sneaking around for one night.
Gabrielle was on the second flight of stairs when she heard movement in the entry hall. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were coming back into the house. Gabrielle hurried up the stairs and into the corner across from the room she shared with Ginny. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley slept in the room down the hall.
"It's been so long since we've taken a walk like that Arthur," sighed Mrs. Weasley. "Such a shame the weather has turned."
"The wards did take a bit of doing, but they are works of art. Bill's at the top of his game," Mr. Weasley said proudly. "We'll be able to drop the Fidelius charm for the wedding without worries."
Mrs. Weasley sighed again. "Did you have to bring that up? I like to pretend it's already over."
Mrs. Weasley pulled his wife into an embrace. "Mollywobbles. The wedding will be fine. Everyone says you are doing a great job with the details - even Fleur, or so says Bill."
"Hmmph. Nothing but complaints reach my ears," complained Mrs. Weasley. "Er, what do you make of them getting a house near the village?"
"Well, they didn't say so, but I would put galleons on grandchildren coming soon than later."
"Grandchildren?" breathed Mrs. Weasley. Gabrielle could see Mrs. Weasley's face as she leaned against her husband's shoulder. Gabrielle had expected the news to make Mrs. Weasley happy, but it seemed she was of two minds over the news. One of those minds seemed horrified at the thought, based on the expressions flitting across the Weasley matron's face. This made Gabrielle angry at her sister. For as much as Fleur accused Gabrielle of embarrassing the family, at least the Weasleys didn't shy away from her. Could Fleur, thought Gabrielle, really not notice?
"Can't help but wonder what they would look like," mused Mr. Weasley.
"I had a glimpse of the future there," said Mrs. Weasley, shaking off her mood. "The twins changed Gabrielle's hair to red. She looked just like Ginny did, but without the freckles."
"Ah. So that's why she wasn't at dinner. The poor thing was probably hiding her hair under a towel and all. I suppose we'll have to..."
"Oh no," interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "She was only hiding from Fleur. Her hair was, er, cool, as she said."
"Truly?"
"It was green when she said it, mind you. I was, er, discussing the twins with her when all of a sudden there was my baby girl in front of me - red hair, angel face, and bright, innocent eyes - just like before that damned diary. I swear I almost fainted."
Mr. Weasley wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and started guiding her down the hall. "Come on now, dear. Ginny's well past that now."
The couple stopped at their door. "I know it's wrong, and I know she really loves Bill, but I find myself wishing it was Gabrielle and not Fleur marrying into the family," whispered Mrs. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley chuckled, "Be careful what you wish for. Bill said Gabrielle barely survived childhood from all the trouble she got into, at least so says Fleur. Ron jokes that Gabrielle has a crush on George. Can you imagine a combination like that? If Gabrielle was Ginny's age, I'd be worried."
"Oh don't be silly. Gabrielle's too young for that," replied Mrs. Weasley. Gabrielle wished she had just gone into Ginny's room. She didn't need to hear this.
"Really? How old was Ginny when she fancied Harry?"
"That's hardly comparable. Harry was, is, famous - I can imagine every little witch dreamed of him at one point or another."
"And the twins have made the Weasley name widely known. There isn't a school in all of Britain that doesn't fear..." started Mr. Weasley. The rest was lost as the bedroom door closed behind them.
Gabrielle stood in the hall and tried to settle herself. She was angry at Fleur for telling stories about her and mistreating Mrs. Weasley. She was embarrassed by Ron's talk, and she was mortified to see Mrs. Weasley couldn't even look forward to her own grandchildren happily because of Fleur. Gabrielle was also irritated by the way Mrs. Weasley played down George again. And Fred. Perhaps, thought Gabrielle, Mrs. Weasley did not know that the letter from Beauxbatons had listed Wheezes among the items that were banned, even though they were not even available in France.
Feeling calmer finally, Gabrielle knocked on the door to Ginny's room. There was a pause before Ginny answered the door, a pause that included the closing of a chest and scurrying sounds. "Gabrielle, there you are. I was wondering where you had gotten to," said Ginny when the door opened.
"I wanted to get out of ze room," said Gabrielle. "I used ze cloak."
Ginny's eyes flashed, "Well it's a good thing you weren't caught then! I thought I said this was a life-or-death situation, and you're out playing around with the cloak!"
Gabrielle's emotions were still undone, and she exploded, "(I was not playing around! And you wouldn't even have a plan if it wasn't for me. You want to help Harry, but I am the one who is doing things. Why do you even need the cloak? You live here, do you not? Just walk up the stairs!)"
"Er... what?"
"(And you could try to learn some French! Here, take the cloak,)" hissed Gabrielle. She roughly pushed the cloak into Ginny's arms, and threw herself onto her bed. Gabrielle landed amid half a dozen piles of clothing. She buried her head under her pillow even as she realized what the piles meant: Ginny had gone up into the attic to find more Fleur-free clothing for her.
Ginny said nothing else, and Gabrielle began to feel a little sheepish under the pillow. She had felt that Ginny didn't appreciate her efforts, but Ginny had taken the time to bring down from the attic with the ghoul clothes that she might like. That wasn't the same as sneaking into Harry's room to take the cloak, thought Gabrielle, but if that was so dangerous then why would it be okay to sneak into the kitchen using it? Gabrielle's regret over her outburst grew.
Gabrielle sighed loudly and sat up. Ginny had not moved.
"I'm sorry," said Ginny.
"I am sorry," said Gabrielle at the same time. There was an awkward silence.
"I, uh, didn't mean to snap at you Gabrielle. I'm a little nervous," said Ginny. She tittered, "Make that a lot."
"I am sorry also - it was not you zat I am angry with," Gabrielle said with a small smile. "Zee clothes, zey are for me?"
"Yeah. Mind you, there's nothing really great there. Just some basic stuff, and a few of George's old things." Gabrielle felt the blush rise up and wondered how it was that Fleur never had this happen. Ginny winked, "It's because Mum usually sews a 'G' on them - what did you think?"
Gabrielle changed the topic. "Harry and Ron went to zeir rooms. Zey will leave very early tomorrow."
"How do you know that?"
Gabrielle thought this was an odd question. "I was under ze cloak in ze kitchen."
"Really? You're a natural at this trouble-making. What else did you hear?"
"Hermione will not go with zem. She does not like, eh, ze brooms."
"Hermione's not going? She's usually the one keeping them safe. This ritual thing had better work then," fretted Ginny.
"Zey are just going to Hogwarts to get books. Is zere really much danger?"
"Well, You-Know-Who does have a personal grudge against Harry. And with... and with recent, um, events there's even more reason to expect - Him - to try to get at Harry," explained Ginny. "That's why we're cooped up in the house. Security needs to be high."
"Is he zee Chosen One?" asked Gabrielle quietly.
I think he's decided that he is," said Ginny in a pained voice. "Harry's gone up against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named four times and walked away. I just hope his luck holds out."
Gabrielle did not know what to say to that. The more she heard, the more she wondered at her parents allowing her to come to Britain. The papers in France mentioned the news of the attacks here, especially the murder of Headmaster Dumbledore, but somehow these did not cause much uproar on the continent. Gabrielle had read many of the articles in the British papers when she was preparing to meet Harry. The tone of the reports between the French and British press could not be more different. The death of Headmaster Dumbledore was noted with not so much horror that the supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed him but with sadness that the man who stopped Grindelwald was now dead. Perhaps it was because Grindelwald ravaged the French magical world while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was mostly confined to the British Isles. The more Gabrielle thought about this, the more dread and fearfulness she felt.
Ginny interrupted her thoughts. "Is there anyone downstairs?"
"Eh, Tonks and ze man who came with Hermione were in ze sitting room."
"Oh ho! That would be Remus Lupin - he was a professor at Hogwarts one year. Tonks wants to go out with him."
"He does not look well," noted Gabrielle.
"Um, yeah. That is, uh, expected. What were they doing?" asked Ginny.
"Sitting," smiled Gabrielle. They were in a sitting room, after all.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "What else were they doing? What were they talking about?"
"Zey were holding hands. I did not hear zem; Crookshanks saw me."
"Saw you? What do you mean?" asked Ginny in surprise.
"Ze cat followed me. I was afraid ze others could talk to him also," explained Gabrielle.
"Maybe he smelled you?"
"I do not zink so. He got me into ze kitchen even zough ze door had ze spell on it."
"Really? Sounds like Mrs. Norris," Ginny shuddered. "I'll need to watch out then." Ginny moved to the door. "I'm going to get the candles now. Er, please don't go anywhere with the cloak, all right? I trust you, but I don't want to take any chances."
Gabrielle didn't really believe that, but Ginny was obviously stressed so it was best not to provoke her. Not for the first time, Gabrielle wondered where Ginny had hid the book and whether she planned on giving it back. The book was probably in the room right now. Ginny wouldn't be gone long enough to search for it, however. Anyway, if Ginny did get caught, Gabrielle thought, I will only be an accompaniment. No, that's not what Philippe said. An accomplice.
Gabrielle turned her attention to the piles of clothes on her bed. Ginny had been guessing her size, and the piles were sorted accordingly. Most of the blouses looked a little large, but Gabrielle assumed she could grow into them. They were, as Ginny said, nothing special. The two with the embroidery were nice though.
Gabrielle looked at the pile with the jumper with a 'G' on it last. She felt anxious about doing so, but could not come up with a reason why. This jumper was more like an overcoat for her, though, with enough room inside for another of her. There was a pair of short trousers like a little boy would wear - her Maman would never allow her to wear these, but there was a letter 'G' embroidered on the back pocket. Perhaps she could take it and sew it onto something else. Under that was a Hogwarts quidditch shirt, in scarlet and gold. When she lifted it up a photograph tumbled out of the folds. In the picture, a younger George and Fred were hitting a bludger together, which left the photo in a blur every few seconds. After hitting the bludger, Fred would corkscrew out of the scene while George scanned the field, she supposed, with an intense look of concentration before plummeting away.
Gabrielle watched the little scene over and over, and wondered if Ginny knew the photograph was in there or had put it there. If Ginny did not put it there, would it, Gabrielle thought, be okay to just take it? If Ginny did put it there, was it just for teasing? Gabrielle decided that she would not ask Ginny about the photo, and put it in her trunk. The picture, along with the mirror from George, the patch, and the other candies from Fred, would be her mementoes. The quidditich jersey, with 'G Weasley' sewn on the back, went in also. It might come in handy someday, thought Gabrielle.
Gabrielle's trunk, which was full on the way to Britain, would be over-full with the extra clothes. That was easy to fix though. She took the dresses Fleur had packed in the formerly secret compartment, folded them neatly, and then slid them under her bed. If I did not pack them, rationalized Gabrielle, then I would not know to keep track of them.
Gabrielle was just coming out from reaching under the bed when Ginny's entry startled her. Gabrielle stood up quickly, rubbing her head where it had banged the bed frame.
"What were you doing?" asked Ginny.
"Nozzing. You found ze candles?"
Ginny shrugged her shoulders, "Yes. That was easy enough. I took extra because I couldn't tell how long the spell will take."
"Where is ze book? I will read it for you," said Gabrielle quickly. She had intended for it to sound casual, but knew it did not.
"No. that's all right. Anyway, well, I'd better get going," said Ginny. The was a shakiness in her voice now. Ginny dropped the candles on her bed, and with a deep breath, started disrobing.
Gabrielle would not have been surprised by Ginny changing her clothes before she left, but she was astounded when the older girl slid the last of her clothes to the floor, stepped out of them, and pulled the cloak around her. "You are going like zat?" Gabrielle asked incredulously.
Ginny turned, only her pink face visible, "Yeah."
Gabrielle took a moment to compose her question. "Why?"
"I, uh, I don't want Harry to have a chance to, um, argue. I don't want to chicken out when I get there, either," said Ginny shakily. "I don't want to forget anything in his room. Can't do that like this." Ginny giggled hysterically.
She has, Gabrielle thought, completely lost her senses. Suppose she does get caught, even with the cloak? What possible excuse could she have for being naked?
"Wish me luck," said Ginny on her way out the door. Pulling the cloak over her head, she disappeared.
"Good luck," said Gabrielle. "Ginny!" she called as the now invisible witch started to close the door.
"Keep it down!" hissed the air near the almost closed door. "What is it?" came a whisper.
"Ze candles," Gabrielle whispered back. "You are forgetting ze candles."
"Oh. Right. I'm going to need those," Ginny tittered.
Gabrielle watched the candles and a sheet of parchment disappear, then the door seem to open and close by itself. This, thought Gabrielle, will be bad. She decided to go to bed even thought it was not particularly late. Surely it could not be her fault, if she was asleep. She moved the clothes to the chair and dressed for bed.
After fifteen minutes of restlessness and waiting for the alarm to sound, Gabrielle was up and pacing about the room. She felt exposed, even though it was Ginny who would bear the brunt of the disaster, and shivered a little in her nightgown. Gabrielle rubbed her arms for warmth. It was barely this cold in winter in France, she thought. On an impulse, she went to her trunk and pulled out the quidditch jersey. It was a heavier material, and Gabrielle changed into it from her regular bed clothes. The jersey was warmer and the stiffness of the fabric made her feel protected. This was much better, she thought. Gabrielle tried not to think of the lettering on the back, and climbed back into bed.