Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter and don't earn money from it. We also don't own the village of Porthleven.
5. The Significance of Puniceus
In which Ron discovers a pedantic streak and Ginny sees what he misses.
Well, someone had left in a hurry.
Ron looked around at the mess in the living room in Hermione's apartment. Somebody who did not really know Hermione might not have called it unusually messy. A couple of old, worn books lay stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to the couch. Almost all of their pages were dog-eared, and they looked exactly like the kind of old tomes Hermione had always enjoyed. A blouse and a skirt had been thrown over the back of a chair. The appropriate description of the room would be that it simply wasn't neat. However, since Ron did know Hermione very well, he knew that this was quite strange indeed.
The place hadn't been touched since she had left. There had been no need to search for evidence of any kind, as everyone had thought it quite clear what had happened. The Death Eaters had been arrested close to the scene of the crime, and there was a testimony of an eyewitness. The only things missing were the bodies, but everyone agreed that those had most likely been washed out at sea and would turn up in due time.
Ron hadn't had the heart to go in there earlier, to get Hermione's stuff in order. As he was the executor of her will, no one else had gone there for that purpose either.
As he walked through the living room and into the bedroom to look through her clothes, he was seized by a sudden inane desire to clean the place up a bit. He knew how much it would annoy Hermione to come home to such a mess. This urge was quickly stifled, since he was not much of a house keeper, as Ginny continually reminded him. But he did fold the occasional stray article of clothing, many of which were scattered around the room. He also pulled all the curtains open. The sunlight streaming in made the place look more cheerful.
After having gone through every cupboard and closet he could find, his suspicions regarding the costumes were confirmed. He supposed she had been wearing the skirt and the blouse which hung on the chair, before she had changed. The first object of his search had been achieved.
Next, he started investigating all the little items that were scattered about in the living room. He leafed through the books, but they told him nothing of interest. They seemed to be concerned with various curses, magical beings and the like, which probably had to do with her training as a Curse-breaker for Gringotts. On the windowsill lay a heap of old photographs of all of them together, which made his throat tighten a bit. A newspaper lying on the coffee table caught his eye. It was open, displaying an article about a witch who had lived during the sixteenth century, who had apparently invented an antidote to a muddling potion. Ron considered the article for a moment. Then he shrugged it off. Why would Hermione and Harry risk the consequences of going back in time just to meet some potions nut?
In the end, he realized he wasn't going to find any more clues. He might as well go back to Tensington Street and inform Dawn that she would not be getting her costumes back. The flat had very powerful protecting spells, and it was in the middle of muggle London, so he couldn't disapparate until he reached Diagon Alley. He'd only walked a couple of blocks when he ran into Ginny.
"Oh, hello," she said. "Are you finished already?"
"Yeah. Didn't really find anything out, but the costumes aren't there. And guess what; the letter I got from Hermione-"
"Yeah, I know, I saw it when I came back home. Then I went to Harry's place but there was nothing there that I could find. I was going to go to Hermione's and help you look."
"You can still sniff around in there for a bit if you like. I probably missed something. I'm going to Dawn's Period Clothing to pay for the costumes. I'll see you later."
"Well, bye then."
They walked off in separate directions.
That day, Tensington Street was teeming with activity. Ron walked along the sidewalk towards Dawn's shop. The wind was blowing rather ferociously, sending showers of golden leaves over the wizards and witches who were doing their shopping. He was struck again by the particular ambience of the place.
"Oh, hello again," Dawn said brightly, as he entered. "Changed your mind and come back? See, I've held this doublet for you."
"No thanks," said Ron, dodging the doublet as it came sailing towards him through the air. "I'm just here to pay for the costumes my friends rented."
"Ah," said Dawn. "Well, while I calculate the cost, why don't you try out this lovely frockcoat, or these hose?"
"No, no, thank you," said Ron, ducking once more. "I wanted to ask you something though."
"Yes?"
"Why do you call the costumes King Charles?"
"Well, they're supposed to resemble muggle clothes from the seventeenth century, obviously, so I named them after a muggle king from that time. Muggle studies was my favourite subject when I went to Hogwarts… here…" Distractedly, she handed him a pink hat with a yellow ribbon, and a slip of paper.
"The hat's on sale," she said anxiously. "Buy it for your sister, please."
"No, I think I just want to pay for these," said Ron. "The costumes are quite expensive enough as it is. Do you know when Charles was king?"
"Exactly when? Eh… no, I can't remember. I just know it was during the sixteen hundreds."
"Right, thank you," said Ron. He paid her for the clothes.
"I've got news," said Ron, after Ginny had let him in. "It isn't much, but it's a start."
"Great! I've also got an idea that needs confirming."
"What've you been up to?" Ron asked, as they went into the kitchen.
"I'll tell you all about it in a moment," said Ginny, while scooping cream into a small bowl. "Tell me your news first."
Ron piled jam onto his scone and stirred his cup of tea, before answering.
"Well, I went to Dawn's like I said I would."
"Did you buy anything?" said Ginny, perking up. She had grown frighteningly fond of the things he had got her the last time.
"I could barely afford to pay for the costumes. Look, if you want more of that stuff, I can show you how to get to the place. Anyway, guess what she said."
"Did she tell you when the costumes were from?"
"Yes, she told me. They're supposed to look like they're from the sixteen hundreds."
"Ha! I thought as much."
Ron was a bit disappointed by how little this small but important clue impressed her.
"You see," Ginny went on, "I looked through some of Hermione's books when I went through her things, because I thought, whenever Hermione wanted to solve a problem, the first place she went was always the library."
"Yeah, I know. I looked in them too, but there didn't seem to be anything-"
"You didn't look properly," Ginny said impatiently.
"I did!" said Ron, annoyed.
"Clearly you didn't."
She got up, and went to fetch a book which Ron only just then noticed had been lying on the kitchen counter. She opened it and leafed through it until she found a page where the corner had been folded down. Lots of corners of the pages had been folded, and Ron hadn't paid attention to that particular one when he'd been looking through the book. Ginny smiled smugly as she pushed it towards him.
"This is the last page that's folded, so I assume that was how far she'd got," she said. "There was another reason though. Look!"
As Ron looked, his eyes widened.
"Wow," he said.
"Yeah," said Ginny.
Ron read through the page. Some of the sentences had been underlined.
"Do you think this has anything to do with anything?" he asked her, looking up.
"I'm sure of it now, considering what you told me about the costumes. Look – "1664". She underlined it. Besides, the old Malfoy manor is close to the cliff where they went."
"But why would they want to see some old Malfoy?"
"Some old Malfoy who was rumoured to have invented a cure for vampire bites?" said Ginny, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But who never told anyone what it was?"
"If he never told anyone about it, how come this book says he invented it?"
"Well, it says here; he was definitely a vampire, but seventy years after he'd been bitten he was seen walking around in broad daylight again. He was first seen out and about in 1664, but shortly after that he moved to London, and his manor was abandoned."
"Until a couple of weeks ago."
"Mmm. Apparently, Malfoys have been trying to move in there from time to time, but the house is laden with so many traps in unexpected places that even they haven't been able to stand it. They say the house almost has it's own personality," said Ginny, after glancing further down the page. "It seems to like Narcissa though, if she's managed to live there for two whole weeks."
Ron remembered the burning painting, and felt a twinge of something akin to pity stirring inside him. He quickly stifled the emotion, forcing his attention back to Ginny, who was reading aloud bits of information about the fabled Malfoy Cornwall residence.
"I think it's definitely here they went, don't you think so?"
"Yeah, I think you're probably right." It wasn't as if he had a better idea anyway. "Why would they go there though? It seems pretty risky, and just to talk to this person…"
"I know. You don't suppose someone we know has been turned into a vampire?"
"That's.. well, it's not impossible. But if it's a known fact that he could cure his vampirism, wouldn't someone have already thought of getting the potion from him then?"
"Maybe someone has tried. We don't know."
"But there isn't a cure for vampire bites, as far as we know."
"Maybe no one's managed to get it off him."
"Or maybe he didn't invent it. Maybe he was never a vampire at all. It's probably just an old legend."
"Yes, but…"
"That old Malfoy sounds like a nutcase to me. He probably locked himself up in his manor for seventy years, pretending to be a vampire while he conjured up traps all over the place."
"Hermione and Harry thought it was worth a shot."
"Yeah, well… might have been wrong, mightn't they?"
But even as Ron said it, the image came to him of that weird old portrait he'd bumped into in the corridor; the one with the sharp, canine teeth…
"Well, if we go there, we're going to need a time-turner," said Ginny.
In a flash, something else came back to him.
"Puniceus!"
Ginny blinked.
"What?"
"Er… nothing… I just remembered… broomstick convention tonight. I have to go."
Ginny narrowed her eyes.
"You know something, don't you?"
"I'd tell you if I did," said Ron.
"I didn't realize the broomstick convention was tonight."
"But you don't have a good broomstick, do you?"
"No," said Ginny, "but I'd like to go anyway – it's so interesting to see how other's take care of their brooms."
She watched him sweat for a bit.
"But I have to eat dinner with Sarah's mother," she finally sighed. "I wish I'd have known the convention was tonight. Well, have fun then."
"Yeah," said Ron, looking a bit too relieved. "See you!" Then he quickly escaped through the door.
