As soon as I left the boundary of the anti-apparation charms, I imagined a dark alleyway on Grimmauld, spun on my heel, and apparated there. As always, it was grim and dirty. There was wind-blown debris in a couple of places, and black snakes of wire stretched overhead. This square had never been a particularly prosperous neighborhood, just a diocre one, but there was no outright cri here, either.
After restoring the concealing spell that had been removed because of the apparation, I walked out of the alley. In a few minutes, I was standing in front of the door to the Black's house.
The gloomy hallway and dark corridor were already the hallmarks of a decent-looking residential building - Kreacher had worked hard to restore the place. Clearing myself of the snow with magic, I walked to the end of the corridor.
"Max?" ca Walburga's voice from the portrait. "Decided to visit this gorgeous empty house for Christmas? You should have warned in advance so Kreacher could cook sothing."
"Greetings, Lady Walburga. No, my reason for being here is much more prosaic. We will have a Yule Ball."
"Ah, a ball?" Lady Walburga smiled. "By the way, I congratulate you on your participation in the tournant. Kreacher read out a couple of articles from The Daily Prophet. As far as I understand, you still haven't advertised your affiliation with the Black family?"
"How did you figure that out?"
"There were only a couple of words about you in there, just saying you existed. A couple of tis, though, it did say that you used your talents to bypass the defense around the cup. Comndable."
"I thought you would decide to reprimand for participating in an event where it's so easy to die prematurely."
"Not at all. You need to build up a reputation, and if with all your talents you manage to die at a school competition, well... That would be unfortunate."
"I see. Well... Where's Kreacher? Kreacher!"
With a clap, an old hook-nosed house-elf appeared beside , and no longer trembling with fear or anything, he bowed his head respectfully.
"Kreacher greets the Head," the house-elf spoke in the sa gruff voice and straightened up, looking up at .
"I wrote about the need to pick out a costu."
"Kreacher did his best. Blacker than a black night."
"Fine, but there are so problems. For reasons unknown to , an unknown intruder has ruined my companion's dress. Until the start of the ball…" taking my wand out of my sleeve and conjuring Tempus, I continued, "no more than six hours. Any suggestions?"
"It's useless to go to the atelier," Walburga spoke up. "A dress, like a good suit, is such a strange thing that it cannot be sewn quickly, efficiently, and individually at the sa ti. If not one, sotis two factors fall out."
"That's about how I imagined it. That's why I didn't go to the atelier. I ca straight here. What to do then?"
"We have a very rich wardrobe," said Walburga thoughtfully, looking out into nowhere. "If I knew exactly what your companion looks like..."
The grimoire had a couple of spells for creating illusions that could mimic witchcraft and movent - for distraction. Although, I could use a Pensieve... If there is one here, and would Kreacher be able to pick out clothes? I an, he could bring a bigger pillowcase for his taste and color...
I waved my wand, imagined at the tip of it the sche for a spell, and imagined that I was infusing it with magic from my body - I always had to work that way with grimoire spells. Even if you repeat the Key a thousand tis, it would be useless without visualizing it with magic.
Ribbons of white mist flew off the wand, quickly forming the illusion of Hermione, the way we usually start our duels.
"It's an illusion," I decided to warn the portrait and the Kreacher.
The illusory Hermione in her school uniform, in her now-familiar manner, stood relaxed and imposing, tapping her wand on her temple and smiling.
"If you put the knowledge of a person and their reactions to different events into it, the illusion will repeat everything."
With those words, I set up a little duel of a couple of spells. Of course, the powers were nothing, and the rays were just absorbed by the walls of the house. Hermione dodged a couple of tis in her own fashion and let a couple of spells fly back, still holding her wand at her head.
"Curious..." Walburga thoughtfully examined the girl. Basically, I made just such an illusion, and it was in a duel for a reason, and the result pleased . "Interesting person. I think so clothes will suit her ... Kreacher!"
"Kreacher here!" the house-elf imdiately perked up.
"Pack a couple of Bella's parade and ball sets for the fifth and sixth years. So she didn't even wear. So inconsistencies in size can be compensated for by charms."
The house-elf bowed and walked up the stairs, and I wondered. I, of course, do not care at all, but Lavender is also, one might say, in trouble.
"Here's the thing..." talking about Hermione, I hadn't really thought about it, but now it's kind of embarrassing. "In addition to my companion, another girl got hurt."
I created the illusion once again, but this ti it was Lavender. I didn't know her very well, so she smiled a little coquettishly and waved.
"And you hardly know her, do you?" imdiately caught the connection of that very knowledge with the rather primitive actions of the illusion.
"Yes."
"Maybe let's dress up the whole Hogwarts? Why not?" resented Walburga. "As long as I know you, you don't look like a charity lover."
"Well, it seems to that I am indirectly to bla for her problem. What if my conscience will wake up, and in general, a girl shouldn't miss her first ball."
"You're right about that. I'm talking about the ball, not your conscience..."
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