Assassins and Lovers

"This will be loads more fun in the dark," Bill said. "Come back over here, Rachel. I don't want to lose you."

He held out his hand in the dark corridor until he found her. "Well, now you've got me."

He gently grasped her elbow. "And I'm not letting you go. It's dangerous here at night, you know, with the ghosts and whatnot."

Rachel giggled. "Oh, please. I grew up on a haunted old plantation in Louisiana. Some of my best friends were ghosts."

"Have you met Nearly-Headless Nick? He's the coolest."

"Yes, and I think he'd get along well with Voluptuous Velma--the prostitute who died in the master bedroom in 1832."

"Playing matchmaker, are you? Any more ideas?"

"Dumbledore and McGonagall?"

"Maybe you're joking, but I've always thought there was something there, you know?"

"Oh, obviously. I was entirely serious."

"We used to talk about it all the time in school, the Gryffindors."

"Brave fools."

"Or wise cowards? We turn here." Bill faced a blank stone wall. "Amor Omnia Vincit."

The wall rolled open, revealing a circular stone staircase, lit only by the starlight from a window far above. Bill held out his hand. "Come with me." He intertwined their fingers as he led her up the staircase in silence. The staircase was drafty, but somehow Rachel felt warm all over. She wouldn't allow herself to enjoy this too much... it would only make the fall harder.

After they had ascended three or four spirals, Bill stopped. "Now this is where it gets tricky." Still grasping Rachel's hand, he felt along the wall. "Here it is." He tapped the brick with his wand. The staircase shifted upward, transporting the two directly to a narrow doorway. "I'll go first. Follow me." He slipped in sideways. They crept along for another fifty feet, slowly, her grip unwillingly tightening on his hand. As they passed the length of the tunnel, the dim blue light became increasingly brighter, finally leading them out onto a small curved flat surface, just large enough for a few people to stand. Rachel was speechless as she looked around. The tower jutted out into a small clearing surrounded by dark trees--a neck of the Forbidden Forest. The softly-rolling grass, nearly two hundred feet straight below, glowed in the moonlight. An air of expectation hung over the entire scene. Bill dropped Rachel's hand and turned to look at her. "What do you think?"

"The trip was worth it."

Bill conjured some soft chairs and they sat down. Rachel tried to let herself down gently. If he had feelings for me, he would have conjured a loveseat. A small one.

"And was the trip to Scotland worth it? Do you like it here? We never get to talk."

"I should have taken the time to visit you. I've been here two weeks now."

"I wish you had."

With anyone else, Rachel would have suspected resentment. But in Bill's tone, she detected nothing but regret. "It isn't too late. We're talking now."

"Yes," he said. "It's not too late."

"It's a lot colder here than it was in Egypt."

"Just wait until January. You don't know what cold is, girl. My mother will have to make you one of the Weasley sweaters."

Rachel shivered. "This feels pretty cold to me. Just like a Louisiana winter night."

"Subtropical lunatics, all of you. But what can I say? I've been living in Egypt."

"Hey, it gets rather cold at night sometimes." Rachel stopped. We're discussing the weather. How much duller could I be? "I do miss camping out in the oasis with the old gang."

"Yeah. . . those were good times. We were always good friends, though, remember? I used to talk to you more than with the others."

"Really? I never noticed."

"I suppose you wouldn't have." Bill stared down at the grass. "So, if you're from Louisiana, why didn't you go to the magic school in New Orleans?"

Rachel laughed. "You do realize that's a voodoo school? Almost entirely Dark Arts? Oh, nothing really dark, they say--just a few Muggle-killings during Mardi Gras--not as if you're required to participate in order to graduate. But, well, my parents strongly preferred that I go to Boston."

"Yeah, I knew it was voodoo," Bill laughed. "But why Salem? I thought it must have been the arts program."

"In the end, it was. But I didn't discover art until I got to school--it was a required course at the Salem Institute. Quickly my favorite."

"I can see why. I always liked the subjects I was best in."

"What, all of them?"

"No--I was never that good at Potions."

"By 'never that good,' you mean that it wasn't quite so easy as Charms."

"Something like that," he laughed.

"My Potions background is very light. Snape would be horrified. But I studied art and Musical Enchantment. . . that means more to me."

"Musical Enchantment? I've been working on that some myself! I play the guitar, you know. . ."

"Yeah, you're pretty good."

"Aw, thanks. Maybe you could help me out a little? I learned to play the Muggle way, of course. . . I haven't been able to find a book on applying magic to it, but I've been experimenting a bit."

"On your own? That's pretty incredible. I would be glad to show you everything I know--then give you some books so you can learn. Pretty soon you'll be teaching my classes. . ."

"Not quite," he said. "But I would love your help."

"No problem."

"The centaurs are out tonight," he leaned closer, "Look." She followed his pointing finger to a spot near the edge of the clearing, where she could faintly see the pale outline of a centaur. "They don't often come so close to the school. This is a special night."

"It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's my pleasure. When I find a great place, I want to share it with my people, you know?"

"Yeah." She remembered bringing Alex, her ex-fiancee, to see her favorite lake, and was momentarily annoyed by the memory of his inability to understand why it was special to her. "I've done that, too."

"I suppose you took Alex to Louisiana."

"I did." This time, she thought she detected a hint of bitterness--but there could be no reason for that, could there?

"And how did he like it?"

"He was bored out of his mind. Hated the food, the water, the heat, the people. . . It was not a pleasant trip."

"That's hard for me to imagine," Bill said quietly. He paused for a moment. "If I loved someone, I would want to know where she was from. I would love seeing those things, finding out what made her into the amazing woman I'd given my heart to. How else could I really know her? It's the last thing I would consider boring--getting to know you--or whomever, I mean--better."

"I guess Alex doesn't have that kind of depth." It was undeniable now--Bill's face was tightening.

"Then why the hell are you with him?" He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair for a few seconds. "I apologize for that. It's none of my business."

"Didn't you know?"

"What?"

"I broke off the engagement. . . two years ago."

"You never told me."

"I didn't think you cared."

"Just--as your friend, I cared."

And there he said it. A few minutes of hopeful buildup, and then he dropped the bomb with those three words--"as your friend." Rachel cursed herself for not holding back her heart. "I should have told you. We are friends."

"I thought we were good friends."

"I hope so."

"I don't miss working for those sadistic goblins."

Bill could always be counted on for an abrupt change of subject. "They were losers, yes."

"I never thought that shallow, narcissistic fool deserved you."

"I guess now I'd have to agree."

"I'm glad I don't have to see him anymore. You know my brother used to date Hermione? When they were in school. Well, about a year ago, Hermione and I went out a few times--no big thing, really--we just weren't quite suited to one another. But my brother was so angry about it. Well, I guess it was a mistake, anyway. At least Hermione and I are still friends. . ."

"Am I the only female professor at this school that hasn't kissed you, Bill?"

"Certainly not--There's you, McGonagall, Trelawney, Sprout," he ticked off on his fingers, "Sinistra. . . Grubbly-Plank. . ."

"I get the point," she said. Somehow, the tension had lifted--rather disappointingly. They both laughed.

"But you know, the situation is easily rectified."

"I'm sure McGonagall wouldn't mind getting a piece of Bill Weasley."

"Oh, wait, did I say she hadn't already?"

"Haha."

"You forget, her heart is previously engaged," Bill laughed.

"It's really kind of sad if you think about it. . . What if they've been in love with each other all these years. . . And never admitted it?"

"You know, it is. If our suspicions are true, it's kind of heartbreaking. Here's a blanket, tropical girl. Oh, look," he pointed at the sky, "the light of Earandil."

"You conjurer of cheap tricks and blankets."

"Cheap tricks? You didn't have to bring Fleur into this." Rachel was relieved to see that he was smiling broadly. "I'm kidding, she's not so bad. I think she's grown up a lot lately."

"She's not as bad as I thought she was. She seems a little lonely."

"I feel sorry for her, sometimes. But I don't feel anything else."

"I'm glad to hear you say that."

"Why?"

"It's just, as your friend, I think you deserve better."

"Well, thank you. As my friend, eh?" Bill looked at her over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

"What kind of question is that?"

"And what kind of answer is that, Rachel?" He smoothed the blanket around her shoulders. "You see, the thing is. . . I was thinking we should try to, well, set up Dumbledore and McGonagall. . . you know, make them admit their feelings. But," he looked around nervously, "I don't want to be a hypocrite."

Rachel said nothing but gazed questioningly at his face.

"This isn't so hard. Look, I am interested in you. Let's cut out all the evasiveness and be upfront. I can't make long, sappy speeches. Just tell me if you think we have a chance."

She loved how easy he had made it--nothing embarrassing or scary for her--no great romantic story to tell her friends, but that wasn't what she wanted, anyway. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I do think so."

"This is what I'm looking for, Rachel. You are what I'm looking for. But now, I think it's time to go to sleep. We'll talk some more later about what we'll do with Dumbledore and McGonagall."

"That would be wonderful."

She was far too peaceful and relieved to mind that he didn't give her a goodnight kiss. There would be plenty of time for that later.