Chapter Ten

Pre-holiday Fever

They had just started making the ball decorations this afternoon. Jane had personally corresponded with Carl, the guitarist of the "Weird Sisters", and he had told her what their ideas and requirements were for the ball. Although not impossible, some of them were quite peculiar – they wanted a spacious dressing room with several fireplaces and many mirrors on the walls and ceiling, as well as a huge stage in the Great Hall. For the decoration, he and Jane had decided that in addition to the usual garlands, Christmas trees, and icicles, they could decorate everything with yellow stars on a blue background (the latter was specially invented by them to honour the fact that all invited musicians were from Ravenclaw House), small bronze guitars and other musical instruments would fly in the air and quietly perform familiar melodies, and "Weird Sisters" records would be hidden in the most unexpected places. The suits of armour would be enchanted to sing only rock'n'roll, and they decided to place real chains on the walls of the Great Hall, alternating with bronze-blue ribbons.

It was all a great idea, but someone had to do it. Together with Professor Flitwick, they estimated that it would take at least fifteen people to do everything on time, and so many volunteers could hardly be found so easily. However, some of the things they would do together with the younger magic club students, and after Jane hinted there would be bonuses for the participants, older volunteers also showed up.

One morning, while conjuring chain-garlands with a part of the club, the students decided to talk with Jane. Not everyone liked her as much as the Ravenclaws, but the others were no less curious to know things about her.

'Miss Undead, is it true that you lived in Ravendale back then?' Kalina, the otherwise shy third-year student, asked.

'Yes, besides, I was born there,' Jane said. 'How did you know that?'

'Anthony Stone's sister from Slytherin told me. We have Herbology together.'

'And how does Anthony's sister know?'

'I don't know,' the girl admitted sincerely. 'Someone must have told her. I just wanted to say that my aunt got married there. We visit her from time to time. It's nice.'

'Yes, Ravendale is a nice village. Still,' Jane added thoughtfully. 'Although it used to be paradise.'

Kalina didn't answer, and Jane continued to conjure her garland. Apparently, in addition to gathering information about her, Professor Snape didn't mind sharing it with his students.

'Professor,' a Gryffindor girl named Lavender said, 'why didn't Lily Smith and August Ripper stay to help? I mean, we'll probably be conjuring these things by next year. Even Professor Trelawney could hardly predict how long this will last.'

At the mention of Professor Trelawney as a prominent authority, Associate Professor Undead raised an eyebrow slightly, then said aloud, 'Miss Brown, do you think that the music band that will present the school in front of the "Weird Sisters" themselves should use their rehearsal time to enchant little stars?'

'Nooo,' the girl replied.

'Well, you've just answered yourself. Everyone does what they can. Lily and August can play the guitar and the bass guitar, and you and I can make decorations. That's it.'

Apparently, the girl was not very pleased with the answer but decided to keep quiet. They continued making garlands for another half an hour, after which they were interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who burst into the room panting. 'Jane,' he shouted from the doorway in his thin voice, 'leave these things and come to us, we need you urgently!'

'All right, Professor,' she replied, her gaze wandering around the room. 'But we still have to leave someone to watch over the club.'

'The Prefects will be in charge. Hey, Pierce, Francis, make sure the work goes on and no one damages anything. If you need us, we'll be in the teacher's room.'

Leaving the students to finish their work, the two teachers headed down the stairs. Apparently, the matter was urgent, or Professor Flitwick would never have interrupted her in the middle of the club. The reason became clear a little later when they went downstairs. The "Weird Sisters" had recently acquired a new tour bus and insisted on going everywhere with it. However, as there was no road to Hogsmeade, the transport problem had become urgent.

'What is the problem with transfiguring the bus tires into train wheels?' Professor McGonagall asked insistently. 'At least it's easy and simple, and one person can do it.'

'You're forgetting one detail, Minerva,' Professor Flitwick, who had just entered, said from behind Jane. 'The new bus. The "Weird Sisters" don't allow a straw from it to be enchanted, let alone the wheels.'

'Yeees,' Jane said thoughtfully. 'Carl told me they hired the specialist who had enchanted the "Goblins" bus, and they don't want to change anything in it.'

'A complete disaster,' said Professor Sinistra, holding her head in the astonished gaze of her colleague, Professor Vector. 'And we only have a week to figure it out.'

'To summarize,' Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall interrupted her impatiently, 'we can't enchant it to fly, we can't change the wheels, and we definitely can't make a road in a week. I'm out of ideas.'

The teachers looked at each other in anticipation, then turned to Jane as if on command. It wasn't hard to read the unasked question in their eyes, "Well, Undead, you invited them, why don't you figure out how to get them to school?"

'Look now,' she said at last. 'The "Weird Sisters" are spoiled and it can't be helped with so many fans. If it wasn't for this bus, we would've transported them by train, right?'

There were several shouts of approval.

'So we're going to come up with something now, too. Focus on the train, maybe we can enchant it to fit the bus?'

'But the bus is wider than the train!' Someone said. 'And it's heavy, too. It is unlikely that a normal carriage will withstand it.'

'Hmm, yes,' Undead said thoughtfully. 'You know what, we better break up the meeting for today and continue again tomorrow, what do you say? And in the meantime, if anyone has an idea, look for me or Professor Flitwick.'

The others seemed relieved to agree with her, and muttering under their breath, they dispersed.

Jane decided there was no point in going back to the club – there were about ten minutes left, so she asked Professor Flitwick to finish it and headed for her room.

The atmosphere in the room was festive, or at least similar to it. Over the hearth there were two socks, which the teacher had hastily washed, several weeds hung from the ceiling beams as ingredients for potions, and Murray was lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. Associate Professor Undead scratched her absently behind her ears as she continued to consider the bus problem. As a last resort, she would write to Carl and consult with him, but she still didn't want to. The boys must have been quite busy during the holidays, and they hardly had any time for correspondence.

At least Sirius's potion had turned out to be authentic, and during their previous brief encounter, they had managed to snatch a hair from the head of an unsuspecting member of the Order for the operation. His name was Dennis Appleby and he certainly wasn't invited to the Yuletide Ball. Jane would deliver the invitation to Sirius in person at the last minute.

She was free for the rest of the afternoon and had nothing to do but think, so Jane decided it was about time she dropped by in Yorkshire. She could afford to go there once to visit her aunt. Still, the holidays were approaching.

She put on her thick clothes, picked up her coat, and, after saluting the cat, left the room.

A few minutes later, she was walking outside in the blizzard, trying to fold her coat so it wouldn't open. Walking to the castle gates was unpleasant, but necessary.

An eternity later, the young woman managed to overcome the wind and get out of school. She rubbed her hands, found the magic wand, and with a quiet "pop" apparated into snowy Yorkshire.

The wind there seemed to be weaker, and the snowdrifts not so deep. Instead of mountains, small hills could be seen here and there and the vast plain around. In front of one of these hills was located the aunt's house. However, the cottage itself was hidden from human eyes with the help of a not very well-known spell.

After digging in the snow for a few minutes (she didn't dare use magic outdoors, as the village was full of Muggles), Jane finally found what she was looking for – a small stone slab. She bent as close to the ground as she could so that her hand holding the magic wand would be hidden from uninvited glances, and uttered the spell in her mind. Little by little, a small wooden cottage began rising from the snow. Smoke billowed from its chimney, making the landscape much friendlier than it was a few seconds ago. Jane opened the small wooden gate that had sprung up in front of her and stepped into the yard. She knocked on the top beam of the frame that supported the gate, and for the bystander, the house disappeared instantly, along with its occupants.

Jane walked straight through the snow (apparently no one had even tried to clear it) and soon found herself at the house's door. She knocked three times and waited. After a while, footsteps sounded and the hinges creaked. A tall, thin woman with grey hair tied in a knot appeared in the doorway.

'It's me, Auntie,' Jane said quietly as if it wasn't obvious.

'It's high time,' the aunt replied in an almost stern voice, but she seemed to be smiling.

The two women settled in front of the hearth, where Jane began absentmindedly drying the end of her robe as she listened to the village news. Although her aunt was hiding, she still had two witch friends who visited her from time to time and told her the latest gossip.

'You know, Peterson's daughter is getting married,' the aunt said as her niece nodded politely. 'The wedding will be held in the spring when the weather warms up. They haven't chosen the bridesmaids and the groomsmen yet, but I guess they will be from the newlyweds' relatives.'

Although this topic wasn't particularly interesting to Aunt Charlotte's niece, the conversation wasn't unpleasant for her. She didn't even pay much attention to the details, but let the words flow around as a background.

'Janie, say something,' the older witch asked about ten minutes later.

'What did you say, aunt?' The younger one was startled.

'I was just saying you were very quiet. You probably have a lot to share.'

'I have of course. After all, we haven't seen each other in months. And I can't write about everything, you know, someone may be reading my letters.'

'Tell me then.' The aunt's impatience was growing.

'You know, most of this news is not very pleasant, I think I'll tell you later. However, I brought you some medicinal roots for potions.' Jane reached into the inside pocket of her robe and pulled out a small package wrapped in a newspaper and handed it to her.

'Thank you, dear.' The aunt unwrapped the package. 'Root of Asphodel, you guessed it well. It's very difficult to find here. Where did you get it, did you have to pay for it?'

Before her aunt started rummaging in her pockets for Sickles and Knuts, Jane hurried to wave. 'No need, a friend gave it to me in exchange for a favour. She teaches Herbology at school and has several beds with it. She once asked me to play to one of her music-loving plants, and when she realized I needed the roots, she gave them to me.'

'Apparently, you get along well with your colleagues.'

'It turns out I can be useful.' Jane couldn't help but smile. She hadn't felt useful for too long before she came to school. But since she didn't want to discuss the matter, she chose to turn the conversation to another topic. 'You know, the "Weird Sisters" will play at the Yuletide Concert at school. Maybe you should come.'

'I don't think I want to travel in this weather.' That was obviously not the reason, since Aunt Charlotte was very good at Apparating, and she would hardly freeze while travelling or get any wetter than the end of her coat. 'Besides I'm too old for these things.'

'Of course, you're not old,' Jane tried to object but she knew there was no use. Ever since her aunt turned sixty, she kept repeating it. Even this voluntary imprisonment was quite easy to bear – in fact, she didn't like going outside the yard of her house.'

'Let me tell you about the "Weird Sisters". The story is quite funny, at least so far,' she continued. 'I don't know if I'd told you, but we're going to decorate the entire castle, mostly the first floor, of course. We've conjured all kinds of gadgets."

Jane spoke briefly about the quirks of decorating. 'And we've just found enough helpers for this part when it turned out we had another problem. The "Weird Sisters" have a new tour bus. Almost like the Muggles', only it's enchanted inside. It must be as big as a house. And they, imagine that, wouldn't let us change its wheels for a day, just enough to get to Hogwarts and back to London.'

'Isn't this a serious obstacle to your plans?' The old witch asked in surprise.

'It doesn't bother me at all. In the end, they will agree to anything, just not to cancel the gig. And we have a week to think. We may come up with something.'

Aunt Charlotte smiled slightly as her niece burst out laughing. Now, away from the castle walls, the problem didn't seem so important. But there was something else that bothered her more, so she soon fell silent and looked down.

'Jane, is there anything?' The aunt asked.

Her niece looked up, and for a moment they crossed their eyes. Finally, Jane surrendered.

'I don't want to worry you, aunt,' she said quietly.

'I worry more when I don't know what's going on.' Aunt Charlotte folded her arms. 'Tell me already.'

'It's about my reaction to a very simple curse. My colleague and I had a duel for fun, and he hit me with a Leg-Locking curse. However, instead of stumbling right away, a few minutes later my nose began bleeding.'

'That sounds pretty disturbing,' the aunt said anxiously.

'That's why I didn't want to tell you.'

'Don't talk nonsense. You better tell me if it's happening for the first time and how did you recover.'

'It happened for the first time with such a simple spell. It has happened to me before, but then it was a miracle that I suffered so few consequences. I mean paralysing spells and the like. But I managed with a simple Strengthening Decoction.'

'I knew it was a bad idea to wander the woods and meet suspicious people there. You had to come to me in Yorkshire and everything would be fine.'

Jane decided to pass on the next few minutes of tirade. There were other reasons besides the safety of her closest relative for not wanting to live with her. While she was hiding, she just couldn't control her panic and stop at one place. And even if she stopped, they would almost certainly find her. After Aunt Charlotte finished speaking, Jane continued, 'There was another case recently. We had exercises with the students and I couldn't reflect a spell, it was a Silencing Charm. By the end of the class, nothing happened to me, but then I had the feeling that my all blood would flow through my nose.'

'It's all very strange.'

'I know. I even tried to read in the library on this subject, but I found information only about some very terrible curses that manifest similarly. Except they had side effects such as tooth loss and backbone pain. It couldn't be that. Auntie, has anything like this ever happened to you?'

The other woman thought for a moment. 'No,' she said at last. 'But I remember once, very recently, enchanting my friend Colleen, without thinking. And without a magic wand, too. As we sat, I waved as I explained something to her, and her lips glued together. Then I barely broke the spell. It took me a while to figure out what kind of magic I'd used.'

'Are you sure it was you? Maybe she did it unwittingly.'

'It was me. Colleen was just listening to me and not moving at all. It's impossible that she did it.'

Well, apparently her aunt knew almost as much as she did. Jane sighed and dropped the subject – she would do more research in the London Library. Instead, she decided to ask for news from her cousin, the closest relative she and her aunt had.

'Have you received a letter from Alison recently?'

'I'm afraid not. I last received that postcard from Singapore this summer, but you saw it. I don't even know where she is now.'

'I understand. I also have no idea.'

'Maybe she's finally met someone and that's why she doesn't write.' Aunt Charlotte must've had a secret hope for her more distant niece.

'Yeah, either she's digging somewhere covered in dust to her neck or she's running after the boys as usual.'

'You know, it doesn't count until you catch them.'

'I have an idea.'

Jane understood her aunt's hopes of marrying one of her nieces soon but said nothing. There was no point in objecting or taking away one of the few dreams in her aunt's life. But her desire to talk evaporated for a while as she observed the not-so-rosy overall picture of her life. She had no one but an aunt and a cousin, so fascinated by the ancient civilizations and cities that she had forgotten to return to England for two years.

She was startled by a sharp knock on the window, and before she could look, she jumped to her feet and reached into her pocket for the wand.

'Don't worry, Janie, it's just an owl.' Aunt Charlotte's voice seemed to come from far away.

'I got so scared,' she sighed, releasing her hand. 'It must be for me, I told them to look for me if they come up with anything on the bus problem.'

Jane reached for the window handle to open it for the croaking little owl, which dropped the letter in her hands and immediately darted to the hearth for warmth.

'Won't you ask me what they are writing?' She finally looked up from the parchment.

'If you want it so much, you'll tell me yourself.'

'Or you'll get it out of me yourself, as you once did,' Jane said, and when she saw her aunt's face frowning, she hurried to add. 'I'm not mad at you, aunt, I'm just stating a fact. It's hard to live among others when you're so different. It's also not easy to grow up in a house where the adults are always aware of the mischiefs you're planning.'

'I guess so. How are you dealing with your colleagues now? Do you use Legilimancy?'

'I rather try not to reveal myself to them. Well, I see something from time to time.'

'It has always been better for us that way.'

Now was a good time to raise the issue of Lily. The two hadn't had time to see each other in private again and try other tactics, besides Jane wanted to consult with her aunt first.

'Auntie, would you advise me on a matter concerning my student?'

'It's getting interesting,' the aunt said theatrically and sat down in another chair in front of the fireplace. 'Tell me.'

'But you mustn't tell anyone.' After the older woman nodded, she continued, 'I think this girl has a gift for Legilimancy, but I don't know how to find out. The usual ways show nothing.'

'Of course, they won't show anything. In most cases, they don't. What exactly did you try?'

'Guessing various things.'

'I see. Now I understand why you failed. You had to teach her to direct her mind first. Otherwise, nothing will happen.'

'Here I am doing everything wrong. Next time I'll definitely start with that.'

'But there's something else.' Once she started with the instructions, the aunt wouldn't stop easily. 'And it's whether it's worth creating a Legilimens right now.'

'Whether it's worth it?' Jane was confused, but also a little angry. 'You made me like that – you and mom, didn't you? The moment then was no different.'

'No, it wasn't. But you were different from this student of yours. Lord Voldemort wanted to catch you with his nasty filthy hands. He had already noticed me and your mother. So we didn't have much choice – we had to teach you so you could resist him…'

Jane almost heard the rest of her words "...and not to hide in the woods." Her aunt definitely had something to blame her for. She already blamed herself. But what's done is done. "After all, we're both hiding," she reassured herself.

'As for this girl, since the Dark Lord hasn't noticed her yet, she'd better remain unnoticed in the future. Remember that she and you are different, no matter how it may seem to you. She is little and a minor, and it is your duty as her teacher to protect her, not to endanger her.'

'Yes, I suppose so,' Jane sighed. She was disappointed, but she was inwardly aware of the truth in her aunt's words. She had no right to transform any student into a magnet for thunders.

Although it was only five o'clock, it was pitch dark outside. It took Jane a while to realize that the fireplace had long been shedding more light into the room than the window, and it seemed to her as if the night had suddenly descended to crush the little village.

'It's getting late,' she said, getting up from her chair to go to the window again.

'Don't tell me you want to leave now. You visit me so rarely.'

'Come to think of it, I can stay until tomorrow. My colleague Professor McGonagall wrote to me that she had come up with a solution to our problem and that she planned to go to London tomorrow to try it. She invited me to accompany her, but I can write to her that we'll meet right there. Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do.'

'McGonagall? You mean Minerva the Sulk, right? I didn't know she was a teacher.'

'She's even the school's Deputy Headmistress. She didn't teach me, they used to divide the classes between her and Professor Doyle and he taught us.'

'She was always sulking about something. I hope she doesn't do it anymore, for the good of the school. You're not going to tell her I told you about her nickname, are you?'

'No, calm down,' Jane chuckled, thinking about what these otherwise mature women wanted to keep a secret from each other.

With a pen and parchment taken from her aunt, she hastily wrote a note and tossed it into the fireplace with some Floo powder. There was no point in looking for the owl for something so small, but she was sure the note would reach its recipient.

The next day, she and Professor McGonagall met at the Leaky Cauldron and headed for the station together. Although the bus had not been brought there yet, they could work on the Deputy Headmistress's idea. They had to take a freight carriage and reinforce it enough to withstand the weight, as well as make enough space inside it to hold the required volume. This wasn't difficult at all and the both of them managed to finish it in half an hour.

'Well, all they have to do now is bring the bus here,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The children will be so happy. Especially the youngest ones, who couldn't attend the "Weird Sisters" concert last time.'

'Everybody seems to like them very much. I asked Carl for them to stay after the concert to sign autographs and talk with the students. He owes me a favour since back then.' Jane smiled.

The two continued their conversation in this spirit as they walked back to the inn. Apparently, Professor McGonagall was in a good mood.

Two days later, Carl and the vocalist Myron, with the help of the band's driver, a young wizard who was afraid of Professor McGonagall, brought the bus to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Jane shook hands with Myron, then she and Carl hugged like old acquaintances, after which she introduced them to Professor McGonagall. The latter also tried to shake hands with them, but instead, they both kissed her hand.

'With a lady like you, a man should always be gentlemanly,' Myron smiled as Minerva McGonagall grew redder on her cheeks.

'Jane immediately let us know that although she's sometimes a woman, we shouldn't consider her a lady at all,' Carl added. 'That's why we treat her differently.'

'You played very well at the school concert two years ago,' Professor McGonagall finally said. 'My students were delighted with you.'

'We're flattered to hear that,' Myron said, bowing slightly. 'Ah, Pierce, finally.'

The vocalist brushed a lock of long brown hair from his face and turned to face the man who was just coming down the steps of the bus.

'And this is our driver Pierce, madam.'

'Pierce and I have known each other for a long time,' Professor McGonagall said with a slight smile.

'She wrote me my first Troll in the third year,' Pierce said, almost guiltily. 'Not that I didn't deserve it. The boys and I thought she might not read our homework because she always graded us by the length of the parchment. To test this theory, instead of writing an essay about the Transfiguration of a snail into a teapot, I decided to describe how the boys and I had thrown manure bombs at each other the day before.'

The confession provoked a storm of laughter, except for the Professor and the victim. After it subsided, Jane prompted her colleague to get to work.

'We just need to call the engineer Hans,' she reminded her superior.

'Pierce'll call him, don't bother.'

'Of course, sir.'

'That's where he was waiting for us last time, in the little pavilion at the end of the platform,' Professor McGonagall was quick to inform him.

The engineer appeared shortly and the work started. Although only the two teachers had officially taken the task, all the others helped complete it. First, they unhooked the roof of the carriage and very carefully lifted the bus into the air. The two vehicles lined up like matryoshka dolls, and from the outside, it looked as if a small van had been placed in the carriage. Then they tied the bus to the carriage's floor with ropes. The engineer got on the train. The test could finally begin.

'Now go slow, Hans,' Professor McGonagall instructed. 'No more than forty kilometres per hour.'

Jane and Carl watched closely from the opposite ends of the platform, and Myron stood in the middle.

'A little faster now.'

There was a loud bang.

'It hit the wall!' Jane shouted through the noise. 'The rope must have torn.'

'Stop it fast, Hans!' Myron shouted. 'And be careful!'

'This obviously won't work,' Carl said after the squeaking of the brakes stopped.

'We could lock it in the middle with magic,' Jane suggested. 'Although we'll have to close the whole space and no one will be able to get out of the carriage. Or fix the wheels, but I don't know if that will be enough.'

'Just don't hit the bus anymore!' Myron panicked. After a while he added capriciously, 'Besides, nothing will be seen from the inside.'

Everyone fell silent.

'I can't guarantee anything,' Professor McGonagall said at last. 'We'll still have to cast a spell, if not on the bus, at least on the carriage. I think we'll have to abandon this idea. Anyone thinks of anything else?'

Everybody was silent. Hans and Pierce were quietly discussing something, glancing furtively at the others, the two musicians were pacing the platform and looking at the roof, and Jane and Minerva were wringing their hands.

'Please, Jane, come up with something quickly. I'm starting to get tired of this story,' said Professor McGonagall, almost in a whisper.

'I'm not prepared at all,' she tried to say, but quickly shut up. Her boss wasn't in a good mood and now was definitely not the time to shirk. 'Okay, I think I've an idea, but they're unlikely to agree.'

'They'd better do it,' Professor McGonagall said sternly.

Jane walked away from her with nervous steps and called Carl aside.

'What do we do now?' he asked, pointing to the train.

'What are we going to do?!' Jane pursed her lips. 'We have a problem. And the problem includes this new bus of yours.'

Carl brushed a long blond lock from his face.

'We've created a lot of problems for you, didn't we?'

Instead of answering, the witch just nodded.

'I have one last idea and if it doesn't work out, I'm going to give up. Nothing else comes to mind.'

'Spill it.'

'I read about it a long time ago in a book. It's Muggle, but I think it'll work. It's called an air cushion. In general, it means to lift the bus half a metre above the ground with magic and hook it to the locomotive. We won't damage anything, you have my word.'

'And the Muggles won't doubt it when they see a bus pulled by a train? As far as I know, such things are not common to them.'

'We can cast an illusion on the bus to make it look like a carriage.'

'The others won't like it.'

'You won't like it, too,' Jane said, looking him in the eye. 'But I'm out of ideas. And you'll have to come either by train or cancel the gig. However, I can reassure you that illusions are not destructive at all. They just create a thin layer around the object to obtain a certain visual effect. I'm teaching them right now, so I should know, shouldn't I?'

'All right, all right,' he gave in. 'Let me at least ask Myron.'

Jane watched them argue fiercely at the other end of the platform. It would be a great disappointment for the students if they cancelled the concert, but she didn't intend to continue playing the monkey just to please them. Soon the two of them stopped talking, and Carl ran to her, 'Myron agrees! We can start!' he shouted from a distance.