The Silver Swan

Chapter 12

We had arranged to meet the next evening after dinner; I took care to be early. Not quite knowing how to do this tactfully, I handed Millicent's portrait to Susan.

"I took this from her room. She wanted you to have it."

To my great relief, Susan smiled.

"She always hated this picture. Her grandmother had it painted when she was little - it's charmed to age along with her, but she always thought it made her look six years old. She kept it on her wall for her ... and for me."

"Did you really go there with her? Into Slytherin?"

"When we were younger, yes. Slytherin ... it's all about power. If you have it you can get away with anything, and for a while there she had it."

What promised to be a fascinating conversation was interrupted by Hermione's arrival. As she placed the Codex on the table, we saw that it had resumed the plain appearance that we had first seen. Hermione looked at it nervously, seeming unsure of what to do.

"Go on. It's yours now, open it."

The book was blank. Hermione looked up in puzzled dismay. All of us remembered that when Millicent had shown it to us, the writing, although indecipherable, had been clearly visible. Spontaneously, we turned to Susan for advice.

"I think you have to claim it. Try writing your name on the first page."

Hermione nodded, and got her eagle quill and a bottle of black ink out of her schoolbag. She laid out her writing things slowly and methodically, getting it all just so - I had a sudden incongruous and painful vision of Cho preparing for a match - and then took a deep breath. Opening the book to its first page, she wrote.

"Hermione Granger"

Almost at once, writing appeared beneath hers. If we were expecting something profound, however, we were to be sorely disappointed.

"Bloody Hell, Granger! Took you long enough!"

"Millicent?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor. How long has it been?"

"You mean since you ..."

"No, since Christmas! What do you think I mean?"

"Two days."

"Bloody Hell! Seems like forever. I can see why after fifty years of this, Riddle was reduced to molesting little girls."

None of us had anything to add on that subject. In the end, practical questions seemed safest.

"Have you learned how to access the spells?"

"Not a chance. I still think it will take two of us. And before you ask, no, my grandmother isn't in here with me. She left me a message, though. Seems I'm stuck here until you designate a new heiress. No wonder she kept telling me I had to do it right away - gives me the distinct impression that it doesn't get any better. Bloody Hell ..."

*

* *

Callously, I felt relieved. Now we could go on as before. However much she disliked her new existence, Millicent as spirit of the Codex would be just as useful and very possibly less difficult to get on with than she had been in the flesh. That illusion was shattered before I even had time to get used to it. Ginny caught up to me the very next morning as we were leaving breakfast.

"Walk with me?"

This was becoming a ritual for the two of us. This time, we didn't go outside, though. As I followed Ginny, I realised to my astonishment that she was heading for Ravenclaw. She led the way into my own common room, empty for the present since all of us were meant to be in class. She motioned for me to sit, and got straight to the point in a voice as commanding as it was quiet.

"What did you take from Slytherin, Padma?"

I suppose I should have expected it, but I had hoped that my subterfuge would last longer than two days.

"Don't forget, I grew up with twins. I can tell you apart. I know your sister changed places with you the other night. Put that together with the cock and bull story she and Hermione fed Harry and the rumours of a burglary in Slytherin and even a crawler can see what you all were up to. Now tell me, what did you go there for? Something of Millicent's, I assume."

"Ginny, I ... I can't tell you that."

"Why not, Padma? Why can't you tell me?"

"It's not my secret."

Ginny sighed with exaggerated patience, and fixed my gaze with eyes whose intensity belied her quiet tone.

"I know that. It was Millicent's and now it's probably Susan's, or maybe Hermione's. I really don't care. I need to know."

In the face of Ginny's gentle ferocity, it never occurred to me to dissemble, to make up a story about the portrait or anything else. I just shook my head, taking refuge in obstinate silence and childish stubbornness. Ginny Weasley, however, knew me much too well.

"Padma, the last time we talked I made you a promise. Do you remember?"

I nodded cautiously, unsure of where this was leading.

"I expect the same from you. If you have something that could help us, you have to tell me; you have to give it to us. I know you don't agree with what we're doing, but you just have to. You owe it to her, Padma."

This unexpected attack broke through my silence, drawing forth an instinctive agonised response.

"Oh God, Ginny, that's not fair!"

I was hysterical. Ginny was gentle, reasonable, and utterly implacable.

"I know it isn't. But it's the way things are. She's risking her life for you. If you're holding back information, or a weapon, or anything that could end this all more quickly, and if anything happens to her then it's you that's killing her Padma, and I can't let you do that."

"Ginny! ... even if I wanted to ... I don't have it ... it's not mine ... I can't..."

"But you can get it. Go do that now. For her, Padma, for Cho."

Ginny Weasley sat in my own common room and dismissed me with magisterial authority. A sinner sent off to do her penance. I ignored the humiliation and saw only the opportunity to escape. She wasn't done with me, though. Not quite.

"I haven't told her about this, Padma, but I will soon. You can count on it."

I fled.

*

* *

This time it was I who burst wild-eyed into Arithmancy at the end of the lesson. I found Hermione sitting alone, she and Susan now both short a partner. The look on my face must have spoken volumes about my state of mind, because neither of them asked me how I was doing. I didn't even bother with an apology to Professor Vector. I collapsed into my place and fought desperately to compose myself. Finally, I was able to whisper.

"We have to talk. Ginny knows..."

Hermione nodded, and then went to see Professor Vector. The two of them held a brief whispered conversation, and then both came back to see me.

"I can see you're not feeling well, Miss Patil. You shouldn't have tried to come to class. Miss Granger will help you back to your House. Or perhaps you should go directly to see Madam Pomfrey."

I mumbled incoherent thanks and allowed Hermione to lead me away. We were careful to avoid even the most fleeting interaction with Susan, but once we got out the door there was no doubt where Hermione was taking me, and it wasn't the Hospital wing. We headed for Hufflepuff, taking advantage of the empty corridors during class time. We had no doubt that Susan would join us as soon as she could. When she did, I was sufficiently recovered to tell them my story. They listened in silence. When I finished, I forced myself to look up. In their faces I found neither condemnation nor surprise, only concern and a growing resolution. Hermione got straight to the point.

"We can't stay here."

Susan nodded.

"We can go any time. Get your things; be as quick as you can."

Without further conversation she left, presumably to pack. Hermione followed. I was left alone in our upstairs room to contemplate the nature of cowardice. Not long before, I had succeeded in infiltrating Slytherin House and snatching a powerful artefact from under the noses of people who had killed for it, and now the prospect of going into my own dormitory in my own House to gather up my own belongings was more than I could bear. I could face Draco Malfoy, who presumably wanted me dead, but not Cho Chang, who wished me only good. Rather than risk having to explain why I was fleeing, I was prepared to go with just my wand and the clothes on my back. It was as I was reaching this bitter conclusion, that I heard the door open and someone come in. Susan, I assumed. She had less far to go.

I looked up to see my sister.

"You're leaving."

It wasn't a question. I just nodded.

"Give me your cloak."

I looked back, puzzled.

"Your cloak. Your Ravenclaw cloak. Give it to me so that I can go and get your things for you."

"How did you know?"

That earned me a bleak smile.

"I have the Inner Eye, Padma."

And so I gave her my cloak, and let my brave, beautiful Gryffindor sister do what I dared not. She was back in a few minutes with my trunk neatly shrunk to the size of a matchbox. She handed it to me along with my cloak and broomstick, and then answered the question I hadn't asked.

"I didn't see her. No one was in the dorm."

I just nodded. What could I say? She gave me a sister's farewell hug.

"Take care of yourself. I'll explain to Mum and Dad. Write if you find work."

An old family joke that, from our immigrant grandmother - it allowed us to part with a smile. That was something.

*

* *

It was another of Susan's portkeys. This one brought three girls and one extremely suspicious cat to a low-ceilinged room floored in flagstones with a large hearth at one end. Opposite the fireplace, a steep wooden stairway, almost a ladder, led to a loft.

Hermione looked at Susan, more in appreciation than surprise.

"Do you have many more of those tucked away?"

"That's the lot, I'm afraid. Welcome to my aunt's cottage. It's the safest place I can think of just now."

"Where are we, exactly?"

"Tell the truth, I'm not sure. In Cornwall somewhere, I've never come here except like this. It's on the moor; I don't know what the nearest village would be. Whatever it is, it's not close."

Hermione nodded, apparently satisfied. Crookshanks, for his part, began a careful inspection of every nook and cranny with a clear view to assuming ownership. Eventually, he discovered a concealed cat flap in the back door and from then on we saw him only at mealtimes, the rest of his days and nights presumably being spent in pursuit of peculiarly feline activities in the great outdoors.

On the night we arrived, meanwhile, Susan led us to the sleeping loft upstairs and showed us where we could put our things. I restored my trunk and opened it, curious to see what Parvati had managed to gather. The first item to meet my eye was a shock. It wasn't mine at all, but a crystal Orb, Parvati's most prized possession. Next to it was a piece of folded parchment. I opened it hoping for an explanation.

Dear Padma,

I can't keep this. It would make it too easy to find you. It will work for you too, if you just let it. A word of advice though - be careful how you use it. Sometimes it's best not to know. Trust me.

Stay safe and do what you have to.

Love always,

Parvati

*

* *

The week that followed was a quiet one and, looking back on it, I remember most of all a sense of relief, a sudden release from tension that left me very nearly happy despite the horrors of the past and our fears for the future. Hermione and Millicent continued their exploration of the Codex, making slow progress but, in Hermione's case at least, finding satisfaction in the work. Susan and I, superfluous to their effort, took long walks on the moor and slowly grew to know each other. Alone with me, she gradually broke her habitual silence and I learned about her life while I told her of mine. Perhaps because she was so quiet, I found it remarkably easy to talk to her, to explain to her things that I had never altogether admitted to myself. Eventually we got around to boys, or more to the point the lack thereof. It was finally dawning on me, after that last night with Cho, why it was that I had never had much time for them. Susan found it vastly amusing that I had never worked this out before, and teased me about it in her gentle way. In her own case, there had never been any doubt.

"It's more or less a tradition in my family. My aunt was actually Millie's greatest fan ... I think she fancied her."

A smile with that; I couldn't tell whether she was serious or not. The idea was taking some getting used to.

"So you and Millicent...?"

"Oh yeah. I did practically have to attack her the first time ... she caught on fast, though. But what about you and Cho?"

"No, never! Not like that. Besides, it's not the same. Being in love with Cho Chang was part of living in Ravenclaw, it's practically a requirement for graduation."

She looked me up and down with the gentle smile that was all her own, softening a steely blue gaze disconcertingly like her aunt's.

"Come on, Padma, you can't tell me they all felt about her the way you do. The place would have melted down from all of the emotional energy."

"She was my Older ..."

"And you gave her away in marriage. Parvati told me before we left; she thought I needed to know."

That was a shock.

"What else did she tell you?"

"To take care of you."

"Thanks ... I think."

"Don't mention it."

Now the eyes were smiling too. We continued our walk in companionable silence. She was right, of course. It wasn't just Cho, who really was a law unto herself. When I was younger I had always assumed that there would be boys for me eventually, just as there had been for her, but there never were and I was increasingly certain now that there never would be. I laughed quietly to myself, thinking of Muggle-Steve on the beach in America, of how much I had enjoyed my day with him, and how little I cared whether I ever saw him again.

"Sharing a joke with God, Padma? Or would it be with the Devil?"

"Neither one! But I'll share it with you if you like. I was thinking about a boy, the only one I ever kissed."

"Thrill for him, no doubt..."

Her eyes suddenly went misty after she said that, and I knew why. Somehow, despite our growing closeness, that glimpse into the grief of this most private of persons felt strangely uncomfortable. I covered my unease by replying in the same bantering tone.

"I rather think it was, actually. I was impersonating my sister at the time, you see."

Her eyes were clear again, and she smiled and nodded as if that explained everything - which, of course, it did.

*

* *

Our serenity was finally broken one evening after ten days, when a very familiar tousled head suddenly appeared in a blaze of green fire around dinner time.

"Hermione...?"

"Harry! How did you ..."

"Find you? Once we knew you were with Susan, it wasn't that hard. Don't forget, the Ministry are on our side now."

From the other side of the table, Susan looked on, seemingly unconcerned.

"Harry, you can't come through that fire. Don't try to, it could be dangerous."

"I know, Susan, I've spoken with your aunt. We just want to talk."

Hermione broke into the conversation once more.

"We?"

"Well, yeah, the M... the defence group, you know."

"What were you going to say, Harry? Resurrected the Marauders, have you?"

"Just my name for them, Hermione. It's no big deal."

"No, all things considered, I suppose it isn't. So what do you want?"

"I told you, to talk to you. Look Hermione, you can't hide out there forever."

"Fine, we'll talk. I'm not going to have conversations with disembodied heads, though. If you want to see us, you can come here. You and whoever you're marauding with."

Harry nodded.

"All right, expect us tomorrow afternoon. Just talk."

The head vanished. Somehow, his insistence on 'just talk' was less than reassuring - more a reminder that there were other options. I turned to Hermione.

"Do you think that was wise, having him - them - come here?"

"He's right. We can't hide forever, and they know where we are anyway. Might as well have him do the travelling rather than us."

None of us slept at all well that night.

*

* *

They came in the late afternoon, only the three of them, which surprised me. On brooms, which surprised me again. Somehow, I had expected dozens of Marauders to apparate without warning into the garden, like the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor. We walked out into the rain to meet them. Ginny surprised me once more by immediately taking Susan by the hand and walking back into the cottage with her, leaving the four of us alone to work out once and for all where we stood.

Only recently have I thought to ask Susan what on earth the two of them found to talk about.

"Quidditch."

She said it with a straight face. It made as much sense as anything else.

For the rest of us, there was no such escape. That didn't make it easier. Hermione and Harry looked at each other, neither certain of what to say. The sight of those two, who I knew had been through so much together, reduced to awkward silence was sad beyond words. It was almost a relief, much as I had been dreading it, to walk off with Cho.

I can only assume that Harry, suitably briefed by Ginny, made another attempt to convince Hermione to divulge her secret. Cho, however, made no mention of it to me, leaving me to conclude that Ginny had not made good on her final threat. Instead she told me of their hopes and plans for carrying the war to the enemy. Although she never said it in so many words, I got the impression that the three of them, at least, were no longer at school, or at least left it frequently for training and to recruit new members.

"People understand now, Padma, a lot of them. They see that Harry was right all along."

It dawned on me that, for Cho, this was just one more recruiting trip, that she fully expected to convince me of the error of my ways, that she took it for granted that I would go back with them. The look in her eyes, as she realised that I would not, was not anger at betrayal but simply puzzlement at behaviour she could not understand. Now, finally, much too late, I tried to explain.

I told her what we had learned, what we suspected. That the war itself, the killing by both sides, was the evil we had to stop. I might as well have saved my breath. In the end, I was reduced to pleading.

"Cho, don't you see? This has to stop! Can't you see, Cho? You're becoming just like them."

She looked at me, calm and clear-eyed.

"No, Padma, we're not. They are all about hatred and power. We just want to protect the ones we love. What do you want me to do? Just wait? Wait for them to come after Ginny like they did Ron? Do you want me to wait until they come after you?"

So there it was. They were killing for love. She was consumed with hope, that cruellest of emotions, convinced that if only they killed enough Death Eaters we would all be safe. She told me this again and again, in many different ways. She told me of their single-minded devotion to this new cause. She lusted after purity now, as once she had craved affection.

"We don't even sleep together any more. Or rather we do, all three of us sometimes, for safety, but we don't ... Harry never has, you know ... Ginny thinks he shouldn't, that he's stronger this way."

Suddenly, I could hear Alden Bulstrode's sardonic voice in my head, 'what a very Gryffindor thing to do - sexual repression in the service of mass murder.' I put it into my own words.

"So you don't sleep together. You just kill together."

"We do it for you, Padma, for all of you. You would do the same for me, I know you would."

I had heard this before, and this time I couldn't let it go.

"No, Cho, I would not! Even now, even after everything, you know that I love you. You know I would die for you if it came to that. I will not kill for you. And I can't let you kill for me."

Now she was angry too. Good, this was easier to deal with.

"Don't be stupid, Padma, you can't stop us. You shouldn't even try."

"We will try. We'll do everything we can. You have to know that."

"We!!! Who is this talking now, Padma? Is it you or is it your precious Hermione? What's she going to do about the Death Eaters? Give them detention?"

"No! This isn't about Hermione or me or anyone else. It's about you, what you've become. Li, please come back ..."

Something in that gave her pause. When she spoke again, her voice had changed.

"You know, Padma, you're the only one who ever called me that. You and my grandmother. My mother won't and Marietta never really understood. No one else at school even knew."

"I'm sorry ..."

A stupid thing to say, but I could think of nothing else.

"Me too. Now there's no one. Goodbye, Padma."

Her hand moved as if to touch me, but she thought better of it. She turned around and walked away.

*

* *

Ginny was back with Harry as Cho went to rejoin them. Hermione was off to one side, head bowed, alone. I walked over to join her and silently took her hand.

We watched them go into the grey dusk, Harry and Ginny and Cho, flying away from us at a speed befitting the three best seekers of our generation, mounted on the fastest brooms their newfound power and influence could requisition. As they receded into the murk, I turned to Hermione, who stood there as if stunned. I felt I had to say something, however trite.

"So ... they've really gone."

"Yes ... all three of them ... off to their new secret hideout ... doing whatever it is they do together when they're not busy killing people."

I should have expected it, but even so the depth of her bitterness was painful to hear. One of her suspicions, at least, I felt I could allay.

"You know, I think their life is actually terribly ...pure ... these days. Cho explained it to me just now. Ginny has a theory that Harry's power is somehow bound up with his virginity and they're ... I guess they're setting him a good example."

"I know this, Padma, and you know what? I just don't care. I don't care if Harry fancies himself Sir fucking Galahad and the other two are in training to be bloody Vestal Virgins, what they are doing is NOT pure. It's ... it's obscene!"

It was my turn to be stunned.

"Yes, Padma, I can swear. Surprised? I know the words, and just now I feel like using them all."

I just nodded. Unlike her, I had no more words, fair or foul, only the ache of a great yawning emptiness in the space that for all these years had been filled by Chang Cho Li, who once had been the fair flower of Ravenclaw.

We turned and slowly walked back to the house in the steady rain. As we went, I could feel the sustaining fire of Hermione's anger slowly ebb away until she too was left cold and hollow with grief.

Susan met us at the door. There was no surprise in her eyes, only quiet understanding and sad resignation.

"You had to try..."

She said nothing else. Instead she took us each by a hand and led us upstairs to the sleeping loft. Slowly, gently, she undressed us like little children, hung up our wet clothes to dry by the chimney, and then laid us down in the big bed, one on either side of her, an arm around each. She pulled the goose-down duvet over all three of us. Silently, she let us cry ourselves to sleep. When we awoke, it was night. None of us thought to move. Gradually, Susan's gestures of comfort turned to gestures of another kind. By morning, we had taken a first small step in filling the gaping voids within each of us - and not one of us would ever again qualify for admission into the ancient and sacred college of Vestal Virgins.