"If your whole life turns out to be a lie, what will you do then?"
"If everything you knew turns out to be a hoax, what will you do then?"
Graciana Duerre Weasley, twin sister of Ron Weasley, is a troublemaker. Mischievous but a little introvert, bo...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
***
OLD RUMOURS ABOUT THE fact that Freya Black and Harry Potter were going out which had subdued for some time, had resurfaced again, and seemed to interest a great number of people, most of them girls, yet Grace found herself happily impervious to gossip over the next few weeks. After all, it made a very nice change to be talked about because of something that was making her happier than she could remember being for a very long time, rather than because she had been involved in horrific scenes of Dark Magic.
"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Grace, as she sat on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a hippogriff tattooed across your chest."
Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter. Harry ignored them.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," said Grace, turning a page of the newspaper idly. "Much more macho. Though I remember her asking me the same question as the start of this term."
"Thanks," said Harry, grinning. "And what did you tell her Ron's got?"
"A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where."
Ron scowled as Hermione rolled around laughing.
Their exams were approaching and they were therefore forced to study for hours into the night. On one such evening, Grace and Harry were sitting beside the window in the common room, supposedly finishing their Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour they had spent down by the lake at lunchtime, Hermione dropped into the seat between Harry and Ron with an unpleasantly purposeful look on her face.
"I want to talk to you, Harry."
"What about?" said Harry suspiciously.
"The so-called Half-Blood Prince."
"Oh, not again," he groaned. "Will you please drop it?"
"I'm not dropping it," said Hermione firmly, "until you've heard me out. Now, I've been trying to find out a bit about who might make a hobby of inventing Dark spells —"
"He didn't make a hobby of it —"
"He, he — who says it's a he?"
"We've been through this," said Harry crossly. "Prince, Hermione, Prince!"
"Right!" said Hermione, red patches blazing in her cheeks as she pulled a very old piece of newsprint out of her pocket and slammed it down on the table in front of Harry. "Look at that! Look at the picture!"
