The Lewis House 24 страница

Arthur nodded.

"I can go see Mum later, if you think it would help calm her down," Bill offered, turning back at the door.

"Thanks," Arthur smiled slightly, "but I think your mother’d planned to visit Lupin Lodge this afternoon, and help the teenagers with jumpers. Or dress robes. Can’t remember – anyhow, she’ll certainly be going after she sees the newspaper."

"Oof," Charlie said, shaking his head. "Ron’s in for it now."

"Yes," Arthur sighed, glancing at the Daily Prophet once more. "Yes, he is."

"Let’s work on your statement about that, Arthur," Rose pressed, pulling her chair up to face the desk and pulling her clipboard. "And while we do, Charlie, aside from those Quidditch letters, I want you to follow up every one of the last declined notes with a new one saying that it’s really not optional – the Ministry needs people. Go find your assistant –"

"Associate."

" – Mr. O’Malley, and finish that off as quickly as you can." Rose turned her attention back to the Minister, leaving Charlie to give incredulous and unflattering looks to the back of her head.

Bill chuckled, winked at his brother, and left the office of the Minister of Magic.

~*~

Penelope Weasley had awakened every morning for the past six months in a relatively good mood. It was part of her natural character to be optimistic. But the first seconds of daily optimism were dashed every time she felt the growing bulge in her belly, or looked up on instinct to see the picture of Percy still smiling and waving to her on the bureau. Her heart would lurch and she would remember.

This particular morning, the baby had actually awakened her with its kicking. There was just a month to go, and Penelope was a bit frightened that the baby might never come out. She reached for her stomach and opened her eyes slowly, catching a glimpse of the bureau, and Percy, and she felt a wave of sadness sweep over her as her eyes glanced across the calendar. It was August twenty-seventh. Her anniversary - hers and Percy's. Their first. They had never even made it to their first anniversary. Penelope felt the tears begin to form in her eyes and she pulled the covers over her head, but not before catching a glimpse of Percy's prefect badge glinting in the summer sun that was pouring through the window. Without warning, her mind fluttered back to a time when Percy had worn the badge proudly – when she had first noticed him.

Having been raised in a Muggle household, Penelope had not been used to many things at Hogwarts. She had known that she had been placed in Ravenclaw because she was smart, she had known that the Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, the Hufflepuffs hardworking, and the Slytherins, well, who couldn't see what they were like? So she had been quite surprised initially to find out that the Gryffindor prefect with the bright red hair and horn-rimmed glasses seemed more smart than brave, although, she reflected now, in the end the bravery and courage had won out, hadn't they?

Percy had been so cute. Even at fourteen, she had noticed her tendency to be attracted to boys for their brains. Well, after fourteen, she'd only been attracted to Percy, period. She had first spoken to him on the Hogwarts grounds during her fourth year. She had been sitting on a bench outside on a warm day in April, reading an Arithmancy textbook. Percy had strode by her, taking the long, quick steps that always made him appear blustery and impatient. She had glanced up, seen who it was, and had looked back down at her book, blushing slightly. She had known who Percy Weasley was and she'd been hoping for a chance to speak to him. At the last second, however, her will had evaporated, and she had pulled the textbook up closer to her face.

She had heard Percy walk by on the path, and the next sound was that of a throat clearing. He'd asked if he could sit down. She'd nodded. He'd asked her questions about Arithmancy - he was also studying it, but he was a year ahead of her. He had seemed to her to be a bit lonely and she couldn't understand why - she had found him charming, and he'd made her laugh. He'd told her how appalled he was that his younger brothers seemed to be constantly in trouble at Hogwarts, "Honestly, you'd think that people would use common sense," and she had told him about her younger sister, a Muggle who, at age twelve, sneaked out of her parents' house every other night to go dancing in the nearby town. They discussed how hypocritical it was for Arthur Weasley to go around breaking the rules of his own Muggle Protection Act left and right and she had told Percy how her father worked for an environmentalist organization, yet insisted on driving everywhere, no matter how close. They had discovered much in common, and by the time he’d escorted her up to the Great Hall for dinner, she had been smitten.

Penelope groaned under the covers. Something that sounded like a pan being thrown onto a stove resonated through the house, louder than usual. A moment later she could smell frying bacon from downstairs, and her stomach recoiled against the unwelcome smell. Molly Weasley had been insisting that she eat it every morning, "I always ate it when I was pregnant and look how my children turned out." Penelope rolled her eyes - she wondered if bacon was somehow the secret ingredient for red hair.

Percy's hair had been the most subdued of all the Weasleys. Also, his freckles had been almost nonexistent. All those years of studying indoors while his brothers were outside practicing Quidditch had definitely had an effect. Only a handful of freckles had managed to develop - a smattering on his hands and on his cheeks. They had been very light, but she had noticed them. The first time he'd held her hand - Penelope's stomach did another somersault - in the prefects’ compartment during the ride to Hogwarts, at the beginning of her fifth year. She had reflected at the time that this must be one of the reasons he had been placed in Gryffindor. She never would have had the nerve to make the first move. True, they had written almost every day during the summer, but still, she had felt extremely shy upon seeing him in person after a two-month separation. She had spent much of the ride staring mesmerized at their entwined hands.

Soon they had been sneaking into abandoned classrooms for stolen kisses between classes. Neither one of them had wanted to sneak out at night, because that would’ve been breaking their own prefect rules. But they had both agreed that going to classrooms during their own free time was acceptable. People had thought that Percy Weasley was a stick in the mud. People had found him boring, pompous, self-righteous...but they hadn't really known him. Her Percy had been exciting, passionate, gentle, considerate, and well, of course he had been a bit pig-headed at times, but weren't most men?

Penelope forced herself to sit up in bed. She could hear her mother-in-law talking to someone quite loudly downstairs. She tried to block it out of her mind and bring back that last memory – of kissing in the classrooms – and found herself on the edge of tears again. She put both hands on her swelling belly and tried to calm herself down. It won't do to think back on him, will it? It isn't going to bring him back...

Nothing could bring him back. It made her so angry sometimes. Running her fingers through her short, curly hair, she was reminded of the last time that she had been truly angry with Percy. Two months after his death, she had felt a rage towards him that she had never felt while he was alive. She had not been able to sleep that night. Feeling very unhappy, ugly, five-months-pregnant and fat, she had heaved herself out of bed and into the shower. Her long curls had been even more tangled than normal, due to the amount of time she had been spending in bed and her lack of interest in picking up her head for any reason. After struggling with shampoo for about five minutes, she’d shut off the shower and begun ransacking the bathroom looking for a pair of scissors. Percy had loved her hair. It had been beautiful when it was long – light brown, fine, and very curly – it never seemed to lie flat or lose its bounce. Well, he isn't here, she’d thought furiously. So I don’t need it anymore. Do wizards really not use scissors? Why can’t I find any?

She had thrown on her robe and stomped down the stairs, out to Arthur Weasley's workshop. After a few minutes she had found a pair of rusty, dull scissors, performed a simple Sharpening Spell, and begun randomly chopping at her curly locks. With each snip of the scissors, she’d muttered "Take that, Percy." It had been remarkably therapeutic – more so than any amount of tea served up by Molly Weasley, who had given a slight shriek at the sight of Penelope’s shorn appearance. Tears had welled in her mother-in-law's eyes, but Molly had recovered herself, told Penelope that it suited her, and had offered to even out the back.

Penelope jolted back into reality at the sound of white-hot sizzling, and the overpowering odor of very-ready bacon. Another noise from downstairs made her jump. Something must have been bothering Molly – either that or the ghoul from the attic was making a social call in the kitchen of the Burrow. Penelope threw her legs over the side of the bed. She was really getting too enormous, and was actually a little relieved that Percy's last memory of her hadn't been in this state, although it would have been lovely to have him put his arms around her and lie and tell her that she would always be beautiful in his eyes.

No! Penelope stuffed her feet into slippers, ignoring the calendar. She would try not to remember that today was anything special. She was glad that Molly planned to head out to Professor Lupin's house to see everyone. She wanted to be alone and spend the day wallowing in her own grief.

It struck her, as it always did, that the wallowing couldn’t be good for the baby. She touched her stomach with soothing fingers, stroking the bulge as if the baby could feel it, and tried to bring her mind around. Perhaps she would try to work. After all, she was still trying to develop an Imprisonment Charm to hold prisoners in Culparrat, and the Ministry needed it now more than ever – her father-in-law had been gently prodding her for weeks to put her head back into the developing process, if she could manage it. Penelope rebuffed Arthur’s requests as best she could – telling him that though she had received top marks in school for Charms, she didn't have the skill and knowledge to accomplish such an enormous spell alone. And that was partly true.

But that wasn’t the real reason that she couldn’t put her heart into it. She had started working on it for Percy's sake and all the research she’d done since his death in February had been extremely painful. Lately it made her physically sick to look back over their painstaking notes and labeled Arthimantic charts, where her handwriting and Percy’s were scribbled in tandem on every page. It had been their project. They had been in love already, but it was over those pages that they had come to depend on one another.

A year and a half earlier, before she and Percy had been married, he had been extremely frustrated at the Ministry. Fudge had been losing control and had been asking Percy to carry out near-impossible tasks. One such task had been to recall the Dementors from the Dark Army and set them back at Azkaban to guard the criminals. Percy had realized that Fudge’s request was unachievable idiocy, and for the first time had begun to doubt the honor of the Ministry. One evening, mainly in an attempt to calm him down, Penelope had proposed trying to develop an Imprisonment Charm, for use in lieu of Dementors. Percy had immediately taken to the idea. They’d worked on it in their spare time – it had drawn them even closer together, although developing the charm had seemed almost as impossible as catching the Dementors.

One night, late in the spring, they had been sitting in Percy's cramped quarters near the Ministry. They had been bent over the little table that doubled as a desk and eating space, reading up on spells and enchantments that might help them. Occasionally, Penelope had kicked Percy gently under the table and he'd looked up and given her a tight little smile, the kind that he used when he was very unhappy but trying to be a man about it. That night, the smile had contorted into a worried frown. He’d stared at her for a moment as if seeing her for the first time. She’d stared back, curious as to whether something might be on her nose, and she’d resisted the urge to reach up and rub it. Then, suddenly, Percy had pushed his chair back from the table – it had made a loud scraping noise on the wood floor. He’d come around to where she’d been sitting – she’d pushed her chair away as well, ready to jump up in case anything strange was about to happen – but he’d fallen to his knees, thrown his arms around her waist and buried his head in her chest. She’d held him, stroking his hair lightly and waiting for an explanation, and finally he had pulled back, looked up at her with glasses askew, and burst "I wouldn’t be anything without you – you give me strength – and would you please consider marrying me?"

The emotion that she had felt at that moment had been overwhelming. She had gaped at him, then laughed, then started to cry, and told him that of course she would marry him, what did he think? She hadn't left that night. Or the next night. From that moment on, they’d been inseparable, working hard during the days and evenings, each knowing that the other was there to back them up.

He wouldn't have been anything without her. Would she be able to be anything without him? Where would she get her strength now? Absentmindedly, Penelope rubbed her distended belly, where Percy’s son or daughter was rapidly gaining life. She tried not to think about raising the baby, without him. She tried not to think about anything. Every thought seemed to hurt more than the last one.

With a forlorn sigh, she pulled on her dressing gown, paused to study Percy’s picture on the dresser, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

~*~

Molly Weasley looked furiously around her kitchen, not sure what else she could bang or throw. A creak from above told her that Penelope was finally awake. It was about time.

Molly took a deep breath and reminded herself that she wasn’t upset with Penelope, but with Ron. Regardless, she wanted to get to Lupin Lodge as early as possible today – she had some choice words to say to her youngest son. Two shots of the special sherry that she kept reserved for times like these had not calmed her temper in the slightest. And Arthur – he hadn’t seemed nearly as worried as he should be. How so many of her children had failed to inherit her common sense was beyond her – although it wasn’t beyond her when she saw the way that Arthur constantly behaved. What an example.

She turned to watch the bacon fry in the pan. Now that the children were all out of the house, she found that she had more time than she knew what to do with. Arthur was busy trying to rebuild the Ministry, George paid frequent visits, and so did Bill and Charlie now that they were in London, but they were grown men and hardly needed the attention that they had as boys. Her relationship with Fred was still a bit strained since he had eloped with his girlfriend Angelina immediately after the war was over, although Molly was trying hard to make things up to him now. She felt an odd need to make something up to all her family. She had even finally given in to Arthur’s obsession by trying to learn Muggle cooking, and she found that it helped kill time very nicely.

Of course, there was also Penelope to look after.

Molly poured herself a cup of tea and tried very hard not to remember what day it was. She had arranged for the two of them to go and see the teenagers at Lupin Lodge. That had seemed like an excellent plan until she remembered that the purpose of the visit was to see the gowns that Ginny and Hermione had purchased for Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan's wedding, in four days.

Still, she didn't think it was healthy for Penelope to be alone today, especially not with the baby's birth so near. Molly lifted her wand and made the bacon fly onto a plate, not in the mood to get up and actually take it out of the pan with a spackula. She wished that she could get through to her daughter-in-law somehow. She and Penelope had never been very close – Percy had moved out of the house during the summer after Voldemort's return, and tensions between him and his father and brothers had been high. He'd brought Penelope home once or twice, but contact had been infrequent.

Molly's first impressions of Penelope had been that she was a very nice girl. Just the sort of girl for Percy. Funny, she'd been afraid that he, out of all of her sons, might have had trouble falling in love, yet he had been the first one to give away his heart, the first one to marry, and the first one to be a father.

Except that Percy would never be a father. The knowledge made Molly feel sick inside, and she only felt sicker, remembering how her son’s marriage had begun.

Percy had come over one day in the late spring to tell his mother about the engagement. She had immediately begun to fantasize about planning the wedding that she'd always dreamed of for each of her children, but her son had stopped her short. He'd known that the other members of the family weren't happy with his career choices. Penelope had been living with him, and as far as they were concerned, a wedding wouldn't even be necessary. They'd exchanged modest rings. They'd joined wands. Penelope's parents were Muggles and she didn't speak with them anymore, for reasons that Molly still didn’t quite understand.

The couple had just wanted Molly's approval. Molly cringed as she remembered her reaction. She had been furious, and selfish. She'd insisted to Percy that they have an official wizard wedding. Percy had drawn himself straight, chin in the air and chest up, a mannerism that he'd almost never affected in front of his mother, and told her not to be ridiculous. She'd called Penelope a "scarlet woman" and told Percy that she didn't believe that he didn't want a ceremony. Her poor boy. He had looked so defeated. He'd scraped at the wooden table with his fingernail and muttered, "Fine, mother, I'll try to talk to Penelope about it."

Molly had drafted a letter to send back with Percy. In it, she'd told Penelope not to worry, that she would take care of everything, and all that they had to do was show up on August twenty-seventh and be happy. She’d picked the date at random –hoping for a cool, late summer day – and a reply had arrived from Penelope two weeks later, thanking Mrs. Weasley, and telling her that they would be there. It had been so selfish, Molly reflected. So selfish, but at the time, it had seemed so important.

It had been a huge undertaking to gather everyone together for that day. Ginny and Hermione had been extremely helpful, and the preparations had helped take Hermione's mind off of her own problems of that summer, at least for a bit. But Fred and George had put up a fight. Why should they attend 'Perfect' Percy's wedding? "Are you blind, Mum, or did you miss the fact that there's a WAR going on?" Fred had shouted at her one day. She had applied to Arthur for help, and although she could tell that he was torn as well, he had spoken to the twins and they had eventually given in.

Percy and Penelope had arrived in the morning. Penelope had been wearing simple purple robes and Molly, who hadn't seen her in several months, had reflected that she really was a beautiful girl. Percy had seemed tense, but as they'd sat in the kitchen talking, Molly had noticed Penelope's left hand disappear under the table to squeeze Percy’s, and she'd watched as Percy visibly calmed down. They had seemed to be very much in love, and what more could a mother wish for her son?

The wedding had been so small. Just the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. Her boys had been on their best behavior and although there was little laughter, she'd thought that Penelope and Percy had been grateful. Reflecting back on it now, she supposed that they were probably uncomfortable the entire day. The guilt that she felt now was so strong that she felt physically ill.

"Good morning Molly." Penelope was standing in the doorway.

"Good morning dear!" she said in her brightest ‘mum’ voice. It was difficult, partly because even now, months later, she had a hard time adjusting to Penelope's new short hair. And her daughter-in-law, she noted, was still in her dressing gown.

Penelope slid onto a bench at the kitchen table.

"Tea?" asked Molly brightly.

Penelope nodded. She looked pale and her brow was furrowed. Something was clutched in her hand.

"Bacon?" Molly asked, feeling a bit ridiculous.

Penelope shook her head and mumbled, "No, I'm big enough as it is," and continued to fumble with whatever she was holding in her hand.

"Oh, dear," continued Molly, in what she hoped was a soothing voice, "it's perfectly normal to feel that way. You're not as big as you think you are, and when the baby's born, you'll have your figure back in no time!" She looked down at herself and sighed. "Well. I’m sure you’ll have better luck, in any case."

Penelope just shrugged. Molly handed her a cup of tea and pressed, "You should get dressed fairly soon. Since you can't Apparate right now, we’ll have to take a Muggle taxi and go to the train station. It's going to take us three hours to get there."

Penelope shook her head. "You go, Molly. I don't really feel up to it today."

"Nonsense!" said Molly briskly. "You'll feel better once you're up and around! The girls are dying to see you!"

But Penelope just shook her head. Molly searched herself for another cheering tactic, but came up with none. It was terrible. Penelope should have been eagerly anticipating the birth of her first child. Percy’s only child. Molly had been so excited to hear about the pregnancy from Percy. And when Percy had owled to say that he was leaving the Ministry and coming home, Molly had been ecstatic – not only to see her son and daughter-in-law, but also at the thought that a grandchild would soon arrive as well.

But Percy had never made it home.

Clink! Penelope dropped what she'd been holding onto the floor. It rolled under the table, and in her current state, she couldn't reach it to pick it up.

Molly pointed her wand. "Accio," she said briskly, bringing a small, shiny object into her palm where it fitted there, round and cold. She handed it back to Penelope, but gasped when she saw what it was – Percy's prefect badge. Penelope's lip was trembling horribly now.

Molly slid onto the bench beside her and embraced her daughter-in-law tightly. They weren’t close, but they would be. Molly wanted to make sure of it. There would come a time when Penelope wanted to move on with her life – she might even meet another man, years down the road. But for now, this widowed girl and her coming baby were all that the Weasleys had left of Percy’s life, and Molly wanted to keep her as close as possible. "There, there, dear," she said, smoothing Penelope's curly hair, and giving her a quick, motherly peck on the forehead. "Perhaps you’re right about not coming to Lupin Lodge – why don't you just spend the day in the garden? Hermione left some good books on her last visit that I think you might enjoy, and I’ve Self-Started the tea, so it’ll be on all day. You just rest. All right?"

She pulled away from Penelope and looked at her questioningly. Penelope ventured a small smile, nodded, and let Mrs. Weasley lead her out into the garden.

~*~

"Mum! I thought you were taking the train!" said Ginny in astonishment. She was sitting at the table in the sunny kitchen at Lupin Lodge when her mother walked into the room. Molly dusted soot from her clothes with one hand and used the other to balance parcels with her wand. Ginny looked behind her. "Where's Penny?"

"She's feeling a bit sad today," replied Molly with a meaningful glance, placing several packages on the table. "So I set her up in the garden with a good book, and instructions to stick her head in the fire if anything happens with the baby. I'll Apparate back in the early afternoon. How are you dear?"

"Just fine, Mum," Ginny answered shortly. She already knew that an argument with her mother was forthcoming, and she wasn't looking forward to it. She'd made up her mind earlier to talk to her mother about her school plans today, but everything that had happened with Ron in the past twenty-four hours had made her tired and worried – and she knew that his current problems weren’t going to help her plead her case to stay at Lupin Lodge.

"Where is everyone?" Molly demanded, looking around. "Ron?" she called.

Ginny winced. "Sleeping, Mum – we weren't expecting you until later."

"Sleeping?" Molly narrowed her eyes. "RON?" she called again.

"Mum… he had a hard night."

"He’ll have a harder morning! And where’s Harry?"

"I don’t know – Remus is in the garden, Sirius is working, Harry's… probably flying? And I don't know where Hermione is at the moment. Do you want a cup of tea?"

"I'd hoped that Ron would at least be awake, giving some thought to his position." Molly pursed her lips and sat down at the table. "Actually, dear, I'd love something cold – traveling by Floo always dries out my throat. Pumpkin juice perhaps?"

Ginny magicked a glass and pitcher over to the table, and sat down across from her mother. She couldn’t sit for long, however, before she nervously stood up and started pacing around the room, pretending to look busy.

"Ginny, what on earth are you wearing?" inquired Mrs. Weasley, glancing disapprovingly at the worn jeans and Muggle shirt. "I wish you would wear your robes. After all that we've fought for..."

"Mum!" exclaimed Ginny. Obviously her mother was determined to make her want to argue. "We didn't fight over clothing. This stuff’s much more comfortable."

"Your arms are showing!"

"So?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply, "Well, at least you're wearing robes to the wedding. I've brought some things down with me. Bought robes always need some adjustments – I want everyone to try theirs on today so that I can sort them out."

The two of them sat in silence a while longer. Ginny knew what she had to say to her mother, but was terrified to broach the subject and meet with an unequivocal "No".

Mrs. Weasley didn’t seem to notice Ginny’s nerves; she started talking about Penelope, while glancing towards the door every few moments, in obvious search of Ron. "I'm very worried about her," she admitted sadly, "I know this must be difficult, but she's got the baby to think about now and I'm not sure if she realizes that or not. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to give her Percy's old room. Wait until you see her hair. I can't get over it. It's so short..."

"And to think that you give Bill a hard time for keeping his long. Which do you prefer Mum?" interrupted Ginny wickedly.

Molly gave her a look, and continued. "Don't be smart, Ginny. You'll see it soon enough when you come home next week, and perhaps you can help me to cheer her up while you finish your studies…" Molly looked to the door again. "Which reminds me, I want to talk to Remus while I'm here to see if he has any idea which textbooks are the most useful."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04