Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

"As if we hadn't invented Obliviate charms by the tenth century," said Ben crossly. "There's no need for…"

"Oh, you're at the bit where the Dark Lord Morgan is ravishing Rhiannon," put in Ginny, with some relish. It was one of her favorite parts.

"Ravishing is one word for it," said Gareth. "She appears to have put up what only her mother would consider a struggle."

"This book is strangely riveting," Ben observed. "Would you mind if I took it back with me?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "I haven't finished it. Although I might consider trading it to you for a little more information."

Gareth looked sideways at Ben and raised an eyebrow. Ben shrugged.

"What kind of information?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, I was going to ask you what you're doing here, but I'm not sure that counts. I can't see why you would have bothered coming at all if you weren't going to explain yourselves eventually."

"I just came for the food," said Gareth equably. He drew his short-bladed dagger out of the jeweled sheath at his belt, reached around Ben, and stabbed it into a sandwich. Apparently, Ginny thought, unlike his descendant, he had no problem with peanut butter.

"A thousand years is a long way to come for a sandwich," she pointed out.

"And not that I'm not happy to see you…both of you…but…"

Ben, relented, drew his cloak aside and reached into a drawstring pouch that hung from his belt. "I came to give you this," he said, and held out his hand. In it was something slim, branched and gold-green. He laid it on her palm.

Ginny blinked. "A flower?"

It wasn't quite a flower. It looked more like a twig that had been torn from some kind of flowering plant. The stem of the twig was soft and dark green. Tiny, half-opened flowers, the pale yellow of fresh butter, budded along the stem.

"Flora fortis," Ben said. "Colloquially they call it Will-Power. It's sort of a hedge-witch remedy, but it works. Break off a bud every day and swallow it. If you keep the stem alive, it'll keep budding."

"Oh. Thank you," Ginny said hesitantly, "but what exactly am I supposed to use this for?"

"I'm a bit unclear on that myself," said Ben cheerfully.

"I suspect you'll know when you come to it," said Gareth, who was busy removing all the cucumbers from his cucumber and tomato sandwich.

"You eat a lot," Ginny observed, looking at him curiously. Gareth leaned behind Ben, so that Ben couldn't see him, and made a horrendous face at her. Ginny tried not to laugh. "I assume the flower has something to do with strengthening will, maybe helping people fight off the Imperius Curse?"

"Good thinking," said Ben, absently. He had returned to reading Passionate Trousers. "I kind of like Tristan," he said. "I think she should run off with him."

"I'm sure you do," Ginny said, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Gareth was reading over Ben's shoulder and swinging his feet; his right foot regularly thwacked Ben in the ankle, but Ben didn't seem to mind. It made Ginny feel oddly sad. She saw the way they were together, the way the lines of their bodies seemed to flow unconsciously towards each other like plants underwater, guided by a current. It made her sad because she wondered if she would ever have anything like that herself, and because they reminded her of Harry and Draco, as if she were watching some strange, mirror-warped version of the two of them when she looked at Gareth and Ben.

"Did I tell you anything else?" she asked in a small voice. "Did I tell you anything about Draco, whether he's going to be all right? Did I say anything about Tom? Or Harry? Or — "

Ben set the book down, his dark eyes suddenly serious. "No," he said, shaking his head. "You gave me a Time-Turner set to this date. You told me to give you that flower. You said you'd need it later, and that…" He screwed up his face thoughtfully. "That I should tell you that you are the anchor."

"I'm the what? The ankle?"

"Anchor," Ben repeated firmly. "Does that not help?"

"Not a lot," Ginny said with a sigh.

"Oh," Ben said. "You also told me to remind you to lock the bedroom door, so your mother doesn't come in and find us here."

"Oh, now you tell me!" Ginny leapt to her feet and ran to her door. She slid the lock home and leaned back against the door. A moment later, the knob rattled.

"Ginny!" called Mrs. Weasley from the hall outside. "Are you all right?

George said you were up looking for food."

"I'm fine, Mum!" Ginny called back. "I'm just going to sleep!" Ginny bit her lip. She hated lying to her mother. Still, this seemed a sin of omission, as it seemed unlikely that her mother was going to ask if her if there were two ancient, time-traveling, rather cute but probably gay wizards hanging out on her desk, reading romance novels. " I'll see you in the morning!"

"Hmph," said Mrs. Weasley. "Well, all right then."

A moment later Ginny heard her mother's footsteps retreating down the hall. She sagged against the door in relief and looked over at Ben and Gareth. Ben was regarding her over the spine of her book, a quizzical look on his face.

"You don't mind if we just stay here and finish the book, do you?" he asked. "I do want to know what happens in the end."

"Oh, dear," said Ginny.

"Bloody buggering hell," said Gareth, his tone mournful, "I've eaten all the sandwiches."

Malfoy, I know I said I wasn't going to write but this is important. I don't know exactly how to say this, but I think you should keep an eye on Seamus Finnegan from now on. I can't really say what happened but I bumped into him in Diagon Alley and he was acting very strangely. I would have warned Ginny directly but then I thought it would probably be better if I told you and you could keep an eye on them both. Something very strange happened to me today and I (the next part of the letter was blotted out with ink and carefully written over) hope you're all right and that everything else is too. I'll be back as soon as I can, Harry

"Seamus," said Draco flatly, and let the letter drop out of his hand. "He bumped into bloody Seamus. Sorry, Tom. How bloody ironic. I'm surprised he's still alive to write and warn us."

"Don't say that," said Hermione automatically, picking up the letter. She glanced over it, fumbling in her pocket for her wand. She tapped the tip of it to the letter and whispered, "Originatus revelatus."

Nothing happened. The spell meant to reveal from what location the letter had been sent was not working. Harry, Draco thought, must have blocked it.

"Harry's not quite that dimwitted," said Draco, with a dry sort of amusement. Hermione made a face at him. "Although, certainly, dimwitted enough. That letter will be one for the history books. 'Bumped into Seamus Finnigan the other day. He seemed a bit off color. Perhaps he has 'flu, or has been possessed by the spirit of the most evil wizard who ever lived. Both options are so exciting I'm having difficulty choosing.'"

"Oh, let Harry alone," said Hermione. "You know, it isn't exactly a conclusion that most people would jump to." Something seemed to occur to her. "Oh, God," she said. "I hope he isn't stalking Harry or anything. Oh

— we have to get to him, Draco, as soon as possible."

"I'm aware of that." There was a bitter taste at the back of Draco's throat that had nothing to do with the antidote he had just swallowed. "Any suggestions as to how?"

Hermione was still looking thoughtful. "Have you ever heard of The Continuum Translocatrix?"

"Didn't they get to number five on the pop charts with I Do Believe We're Naked?'"

"Don't joke." Hermione glared. "It's a locator spell that uses time magic.

See, we burn the letter and make a paste out of the ashes, then we feed the ashes to a Kneazle, and then we use some of the Kneazle's blood to make a Locanarus Potion, and we boil the potion six times, and after that we — "