The Lewis House 26 страница

"I’ll take a whiskey and a champagne," the boy said. "And you’re looking as lovely as ever, Miss Rosie. Haven’t changed a smidge."

Madam Rosmerta rolled her eyes, and put the drinks on the counter. "Go on, you flatterer." She turned to Ginny and smiled warmly. "Ah, students. It’ll be a slow year, without the Hogsmeade weekends. Drink, Ginny?"

"Ginny, is it?" The older boy was looking at her curiously. "Well, if you’re not a Weasley, I’m not an O’Malley. You’ll be Charlie’s kid sister."

Ginny bristled, but tried not to show it. "Charlie’s my brother, yes."

"Hard to believe, a mad bloke like that, related to a right pretty lass like yourself." He lowered his voice. "But if Charlie asks, I didn’t say so." He grinned. "I work dragons with him. Mick, here."

"Oh, of course!" Ginny exclaimed. "I thought I recognized you from pictures. Nice to finally meet you." She stuck out her hand, which Mick grabbed and kissed. She pulled it back, a bit flustered, and caught sight of Harry again. He was still watching her and she turned away a fraction, wishing he’d stop looking at her and just come ask her to dance, if he felt that way about it.

"Pay no attention," said Madam Rosmerta dryly, wagging a finger at Mick. "He’s been at that since he was thirteen, he has." She pushed a champagne across the bar to Ginny, who took it, glad for the distraction.

"Well, it’s been lovely, girls," Mick said, picking up his whiskey in one hand, and his champagne in the other, "but I’ve got a bit of a pressing matter to attend to. Be back to torment you in a bit." He turned to leave, but stopped short and grinned widely at the blonde woman who’d just come up behind him, carrying an empty glass. "Well if it isn’t my other Miss Rosie." He bowed as much as he could with two fistfuls of liquor, and held out the glass of champagne.

The blonde woman didn’t take it. Her jaw dropped. "Mick - Mr. O’Malley - what are you doing here?"

"Seamus Finnigan’s my cousin, Miss Secretary Privy Rose K. Brown. I was at the wedding, if you didn’t notice."

"Well Lavender’s my sister! I was in the wedding, if you didn’t notice."

"Oh, I noticed all right. Those dress robes are a sight better than the Ministry issue." Mick raised an eyebrow, and Ginny stifled a giggle. The robes that Lavender had chosen for her bridal party were quite form fitting.

Rose’s cheeks went pink. "Excuse me," she muttered, trying to push past him to the bar.

"Now what’s with all that self-sufficiency, when I’ve got you a drink right here?" Mick demanded, downing his whiskey with one hand and thrusting the champagne flute at Rose with the other. "Bit rude of you to ignore me altogether. Thought you were the well-bred sort. We called you the Slytherin Sweetheart, once upon a time."

Rose sighed, and grudgingly took the champagne. "Fine. Happy?"

"Not by a long shot. I’ve got a couple of top secret Ministry matters to take up with you. Serious questions. I mean it."

"Do you?" Rose asked, lowering her voice and shooting a sideways look at Ginny that told her she wasn’t welcome to listen to the conversation. "Well we can hardly talk here - is it urgent?"

"You’d better believe it."

"Well..." Rose frowned. "I don’t have my briefcase and notes, but if you need a word in private, I suppose..."

"You won’t need notes for this." Mick gestured to the back door of the pub. "And yeah, it’d better be in private."

Rose led the way to the back alley, and Mick followed, shooting a roguish smile over his shoulder at Ginny, and winking. The door banged shut behind them.

"He is awful," Ginny gasped. "That was not about the Ministry - poor Rose!"

Madam Rosmerta laughed, and polished a row of empty glasses with a sweep of her wand. "I’ve got a bit of experience watching scenes like that one, and Rose is doing just as she pleases, you trust me. Ah - lovely. My regulars."

The twins had approached the bar. They seated themselves on either side of Ginny, to talk business with Madam Rosmerta. It seemed that the end of the war had brought about good times, both for the Three Broomsticks, and for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Ginny listened, feeling quite proud of her brothers for all they’d contributed to the Death Eaters’ defeat. It had been Fred’s plan to exchange the real wands of suspected Dark wizards with the fake ones they’d invented at the Burrow. That had proved a tricky operation, but on more than one occasion, the Order of the Phoenix had seen it successfully accomplished. And the wands hadn’t been the only help - Giggle Grenades had been one of their first major inventions to hit the market, and had gained popularity at the beginning of the war. But though they’d certainly helped business, they’d actually proved strategically useful. It had been George’s decision to use a stronger version of the Giggle Grenade during battles, to distract the enemy. Some people had called it a foolish idea, but it had been a brilliant one; true happy laughter was, to the Death Eaters, almost as bad as an Unforgivable Curse. Addle-brained with laughter, Dark wizards had been useless, and what had begun as a party trick had ultimately saved Ron’s life.

"Orders are pouring in for those things," Fred was saying now. "International demand on ‘em. George here is going to make us rich if he keeps having good marketing ideas."

"Not like the wands aren’t still selling out," George shot back. "We take equal credit."

"Enough." Madam Rosmerta smiled, pushed tankards at both of them, and pointed to George’s goatee. "Very nice," she said, with a coquettish smile that made George’s cheeks go ruddy. Although the twins still looked identical in almost every way, George's chin now set him apart, and Ginny had to admit that it was strangely dashing.

"I think I'm going to start one of those as well!" Fred said brightly. "If it looks good on him, then it looks good on me."

But Angelina had just approached from chatting with Lee Jordan, and she twined her long arms around Fred from behind, making him jump. "I heard that," she said sweetly. "And like most witches, I know plenty of good spells for removing unwanted body hair." She touched Fred’s smooth chin. "Just you try to grow one of those things."

George doubled over with laughter and Fred looked quite put out, although Ginny suspected that he secretly didn't mind Angelina's bossing. He allowed himself to be tugged from his stool and back out to the dance floor, as Ron approached the bar.

"My little brother here is your fellow bartender, I’ll have you know," George said proudly to Madam Rosmerta. "He's been tending bar at the Snout's Fair in Stagsden all summer."

"Really?" asked Madam Rosmerta, amusedly crossing her arms. "Do you think you could handle this place?"

Ron looked up and down the bar, and shrugged. "Sure. Why, do you want a break, or something?"

Madam Rosmerta seemed a bit taken aback by the offer. "Well, that... it’s not...." She put her hands on her hips. "Yes, in fact - I feel like dancing. You’ll really mind the bar while I take a spin? What a love."

Ron got behind the counter at once, his ears burning a bit red. Madam Rosmerta flashed him a winning smile, and George got unexpectedly to his feet.

"I’ll spin you," he offered, grinning at the dubious look on her face. "Oh come on - not a student anymore, am I?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and holding out his arm. Madam Rosmerta laughingly took hold of it, and the two of them made their way onto the dance floor.

"Drink, Gin?" asked Ron, grabbing a dishtowel and starting to wipe up some of the spills on the counter.

"Got one, thanks." She turned on her stool, and entertained herself for several minutes watching Colin Creevey, who had come to the wedding with Eloise Midgen, camera in hand. He was so much like a man now that she could barely detect traces of the little classmate who had used to follow Harry about Hogwarts. He adjusted knobs on his camera with practiced ease, and hoisted it up to his shoulder to peer through at Lavender, who was grinning shyly into her bouquet. Colin snapped several pictures, then lowered his camera and nodded.

"Lovely," he said sincerely. "Really, that’s going to look great."

"And it’s... really going to go in the paper?" Lavender asked hesitantly, looking over at Parvati.

"And why shouldn’t it?" Parvati demanded, looking proudly at her friend. "You’re perfect. Anyway, I say this makes a great story - we all need a little happy news, and it’s a nice way to take the sting out of September first." She sniffed, and lowered her voice. "I’m really glad you picked today, for this," she mumbled, hugging Lavender quickly. Colin snapped another photograph, and Ginny smiled to herself. That would be a nice one. "Now." Parvati stepped back and swiped briskly beneath her eyes. "I’ll stay quiet for your interview, you go on."

Lavender turned to Eloise.

"How did you choose the date?" Eloise read from her scroll, with much more confidence than she’d had at the beginning of the summer.

"It’s the first day of school," Lavender answered promptly. "We’ve always seen all our friends on the first day of school, and I think our class should always make a point to be with each other on September first. I think it’d be nice, to make that tradition."

"It would," Eloise agreed. "I wish my class had done that. But going on - why did you decide to do the wedding at Hogwarts?"

"We wanted it to be really ours, and I can’t think of anywhere more meaningful. Plus which, Seamus asked me to marry him, at Hogwarts."

"Oh, how?" Eloise asked girlishly, forgetting her notes for a moment and gazing wistfully at the bride. "What exactly did he say?"

Colin glanced at her, and surreptitiously turned his camera in her direction. There was a snap, and a cloud of purple, and Eloise looked at Colin in surprise.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Finger slipped. You were saying, Lavender?"

"Well..." Lavender fidgeted with her bouquet. "I suppose he wouldn’t mind my telling the story. It’s very simple. We were down behind the greenhouses right after our last-ever Herbology exam - we were just looking at plants," she explained, blushing.

Ginny held back a snort of disbelief. If there was one couple she couldn’t believe that of, it was Seamus and Lavender. Still, she leaned her chin in her hand and listened to the rest of the story, feeling rather wistful, herself.

"Seamus asked me if I was still planning to go straight home, after we got back to King’s Cross. I said, well, of course. Where else would I go? And he..." She paused, and her eyes focused inward, remembering. "He said, you should be coming to Ireland, with me. I want you with me. I’m not saying goodbye to you at some train station."

Ginny’s eyes suddenly stung. Eloise sniffled.

"And I was shocked, you know? I said, Seamus -" she laughed, as if the conversation were taking place all over again "- how can I live there with you? Your mum would have a fit. And my dad would have your head, so there’s no use in you trying to come to York with me. And Seamus said... well... we could do it. If we were married right off."

Parvati let out a little sigh.

"I just remember looking at him and then he was suddenly on his knees in the dirt - proposing. And I started laughing, I didn’t think he really meant it, but he took my hands and looked so serious that I had to believe him. He said he didn’t want to be apart for even one day. He said that, if I’d have him, then he’d do everything I ever wanted." Lavender grinned, a bit wickedly. "So I said yes."

"Just like that?" Eloise asked softly.

Lavender shrugged. "Well, no... not just like that. We’ve known each other forever. And we’ve been in love a long time. And nobody else really knows... all the... I don’t know - truthfully, if he hadn’t asked, I might’ve lost my head at King’s Cross and done it for him."

Parvati laughed. "That, I would have enjoyed."

"Oh, you hush." Lavender nudged her. "Were there any other questions, Eloise?"

Eloise dabbed at her eyes and shook her head, making her curls move prettily. "No - that’s just the story I wanted. Congratulations. Thanks so much for having us here."

But Ginny lost track of Lavender’s reply when Fred wandered back over to the bar, yelling. "Oi! Ron! Angelina wants another one of those Finnigan-Brown drinks."

Ron grimaced. "Does she? I think they're foul."

Fred shrugged. "They're a bit weak, but what can you do?"

"Not a thing, ‘cause we're out of champagne. Where's Madam Rosmerta?"

Ginny scanned the crowd but didn't see Madam Rosmerta dancing anywhere.

"Well, never mind," Ron sighed. "I expect she keeps the extra in the cellar. Fred - you want to run down and check for me?"

"Anything to keep my wife happy," Fred answered with a grin, and headed downstairs, just as a light flashed brightly in Ginny’s face.

"Colin," she complained, waving purple smoke out of her eyes and sticking out her tongue at him.

He smiled, and took another picture. "That’s front page material," he joked. ‘Minister’s Daughter Pulls Face’. Everything your family does is good for the paper now, Ginny - you’ll want to be careful."

"Rubbishy stupid headlines," Ron muttered darkly, behind the bar. "Buggering idiot press, always making things worse. Bunch of slimy -"

"Ron," Ginny admonished. "Colin didn’t write that article."

Ron sent a couple of glasses whirling sharply to their spots on the shelves. "I know." He popped open a bottle of Madman and took a swig of it. "Sorry, Colin."

"It’s okay. I don’t blame you. Flummery’s a worthless piece."

"That article was really awfully biased," Eloise agreed, coming up behind Colin and shuffling scrolls in her hands. "Ron, we wanted to know if you’d let us write one. Show your side of it a bit more. We’ve got very friendly material from Jimmy MacMillan and Andrew Quinn already, and we’ve got a real report from St. Mungo’s this morning -"

"You do?" Ron demanded at once, gripping the bar. "How’s Malfoy? He’s fine, right? He’s awake? No lasting damage?"

Ginny’s shoulders tensed as she waited for the answer.

"Malfoy’s up and alive," Colin answered grimly. "But I caught a glimpse of him in his hospital room, from the corridor and you know, it reminded me. Remember how he wouldn’t take that sling off his arm for months, after what the hippogriff did to him?"

Ron nodded tersely.

"I’d imagine he’s pulling the same kind of stunt. He looked just fine, when I saw him - he was up on his feet and everything. One of the nurses who’s had enough of him told me that the only reason he went unconscious in the first place was because he’d had too much to drink. The head injury looked a hell of a lot worse than it really was, because of all the blood. She said it’s healing up, no trouble."

"You... that’s... true?" Ron asked faintly, relaxing his fingers on the bar. His shoulders sagged in relief. "It’s not that bad? He’s walking around?"

"He’s walking around. Saw it with my own eyes. And -" Colin tapped his camera "- proof’s in here."

Ron put his hands over his face and let out a long, low breath. "Okay," he mumbled into his palms. "Okay." When he took his hands down, his eyes were suspiciously red, and he cast about for something to say, but couldn’t seem to find words. "Where’s Hermione?" he finally managed.

"I’ll get her." Ginny touched Colin’s shoulder gratefully, then bolted across the room to Hermione, who was deep in conversation with Neville and Professor McGonagall. "Hermione -" she managed.

"Hi, Ginny, just a second – then you do think I can manage the Thinker apprenticeship, Professor?"

"If you are accepted, Miss Granger, then you’ll have the opportunity to find that out for yourself-"

"No, I’m so sorry to interrupt," Ginny cut in, "I know it’s important, but Hermione, it’s Ron - it’s news about Malfoy."

Professor McGonagall’s mouth set in a line and Neville paled. Hermione forgot to excuse herself from the conversation; she ran straight to Ron. As Ginny watched from across the room, Hermione ducked behind the bar and took his hands. He looked at her mutely for a moment, then bent his head and told her what must have been the good news, because she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his robes, her shoulders shaking. Colin’s camera flashed.

"Malfoy’s awake," Ginny said faintly to Neville and the professor. "He’s out of danger." The two were visibly relieved, and Ginny made her way across the room to tell her mother. Malfoy’s being conscious probably wouldn’t stop the lawsuit, but at least it would make Ron’s culpability much less severe.

"You're not dancing."

Ginny whirled to see Harry standing off to the side of the dance floor, watching her with an oddly detached, guarded intensity. It startled her for a moment – without realizing it, she’d got quite good at reading his expressions. He hadn’t guarded anything from her in several weeks, and it was strange to see him looking like he had used to during the war – fiercely hollow.

"No," she answered, working to keep her voice normal. "I guess I'm not."

"Do you want to?" Harry held out his hand, slightly.

"I -" Ginny began, not sure why she was hesitating. She glanced towards her mother, but decided quickly that Harry needed to know the news about Malfoy more than anyone else. "Okay," she said finally, and put her hand in his.

He gripped it. It was unnerving – she almost wanted him to let go but a moment later they were on the dance floor and slow music had begun to play. Ginny fought a terrible urge to blush, knowing how many people in the room had always been aware of her feelings for Harry, certain that everyone was watching her. She resisted the instinct to look away from the green eyes that were focused directly on her face. This wasn't school. She wasn't a little girl in dress robes at her first dance.

But it was Harry.

He put a tight hold on her waist and grasped her hand in his. Ginny tried not to let it affect her too obviously, but it was like everything with him. Overwhelming. He had never pulled her close to him deliberately like this, and she tried to control how fast her heart was beating. He continued to search her face.

"Malfoy’s awake," Ginny blurted, to stop herself from thinking any further about her feelings.

Harry paused in mid-step. "How do you know?"

"Colin was at St. Mungo’s this morning, with Eloise." Ginny rushed to give Harry all the necessary information, and Harry held her tighter all the time, looking more and more relieved with every word she spoke. When she finished, he shut his eyes briefly.

"All right," he said quietly, and when Ginny began to sway to the music once more, he followed suit.

They were silent together for a long time.

"Are you having fun here?" Harry asked suddenly, finding her eyes again.

"Yes," she said honestly. "Aren't you?"

"No."

It wasn't the answer she'd expected and it moved her for some reason. "What's wrong?"

"Hogwarts."

It was the most complete explanation possible, and Ginny didn’t know how to reply. Softly, comfortingly, she moved her fingers on his shoulder, hardly remembering to keep dancing. "It’s being rebuilt," she murmured, shutting her eyes as he pulled her closer. She felt oddly as if he was holding onto her for help, and she laced her fingers into the hand that was holding hers. "Don’t worry about Hogwarts."

They swayed another moment in silence and then Harry said abruptly, "Don’t you think they’re young?"

Ginny wasn’t sure why, but the breath went out of her lungs at the question and she had to wait a moment before she was capable of a response. "Seamus and Lavender...? I think..." She felt her tongue become oddly heavy and she wasn’t sure she could say the words she needed. "They must... love each other."

Harry made a soft sound – perhaps of derision. "Yeah," he agreed, though he didn’t sound at all convinced. There was a silence, followed by another sudden question. "What did you think of their vows?"

Ginny’s eyes came open and she looked desperately over Harry’s shoulder, trying to maintain her balance. What kinds of questions were these? Why was he asking her things like this? "I thought it was really lovely, what they said." She turned her head to the side, not wanting to give him a view of her face, which she knew was red. When she spoke again, her own voice was lower than she had realized it could be. "Why – what did you think?"

But he didn't answer her. He asked another question, instead. "Would you have done it like that?"

Ginny willed herself not to bury her face against his shoulder – she wanted to hide very badly. She knew what vows she would make. It was strange, but in a way, she'd already given them to Harry last year, when she had agreed to take part in the spell that had saved his life. Hermione had made everything very clear to Harry – Ginny’s function in the process had been fully obvious. What more could she possibly say to him, if they ever came together in the way that Seamus and Lavender had? What more could she promise Harry than that she would have died for him?

And then it struck her.

"I would have promised to outlive you," she answered honestly.

Harry froze. His fingers went slack in her hand and on her waist. He released her and stepped back, his face pale and his mouth hanging open as if he’d just been punched. "You..." he began, and started over. "What do you..."

Ginny went white. The blood drained from her face; she felt it go. Never had she been so embarrassed in all her life – never had she been so obvious, even where he was concerned. She hadn’t meant to say those words at all. She hadn’t calculated or judged them, or thought about what they would sound like. But there was no way to repeal them, and she’d more or less just admitted that she wanted to spend her life with Harry. Right to his face.

He was still gaping at her.

Both stunned and humiliated by her own transparent stupidity, Ginny quickly withdrew her hand from his limp one and pivoted away from him. The music was still playing, and dancing couples looked at her curiously as she wove her way through them and toward the door, but she didn’t care. She needed to get out. She pushed the door open and felt the cool air of September hit her in the face like a slap. The door fell shut with a bang and Ginny strode rapidly away from the Three Broomsticks, from the couples dancing, from her brothers, from Lavender and Seamus – from Harry. She didn’t want to be near him. She wasn’t sure how she was going to bear the embarrassment, the next time they were at Lupin Lodge together.

She passed shops and cottages and eventually found herself in the unpopulated stretch of cobbled road that led to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was a good place to go – there would be quiet, there, now that the wedding was over. And there were plenty of small, private places to curl up and wish things differently, at Hogwarts. Ginny had found them all. The little alcove of trees on the far side of the lake. Hagrid’s old pumpkin patch. The overgrown and rarely-used back steps at the bottom of Gryffindor tower. She came to the gate, which was laced with trailing flowers from the ceremony, and flinched at the reminder of the wedding and vows. Some people were allowed to say it out loud, when they were in love.

It was unfair. Ginny had been this way longer than Lavender ever had, and more deeply than Lavender would ever know. She snatched one of the flowers from the vine and pushed her way through the gate, ripping up the petals and letting them fall in the wet grass of the wide Hogwarts grounds, as she headed up the hill. The Quidditch pitch was on her right but she didn’t look at it. It was too much Harry’s. The lake was on her left and she couldn’t make herself look at that, either. She had a sudden memory of Harry, during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and how afraid she’d been for him. How invested, even then.

Blindly she marched up the steep slope that led to the lawn outside the entrance steps, and stopped short, as if she’d run into a wall. Indeed, it felt as though a very solid, cold barrier stood here, between her body and the castle, and she almost stumbled backwards from its very present force. Confused, her head whirling from too much emotion, she looked left and right, attempting to figure out if she had managed to come up against some sort of temporary, invisible ward. Perhaps Professor McGonagall had put some up around the school, while it was under construction. It was a long, addled moment before Ginny realized what had made her stop here.

This was where it had happened. Her eyes focused on the place where she had first seen Lucius Malfoy, his wand drawn, pointed at Harry.

This was where she had put herself between them.

This was where she had almost lost her father.

This was where she had heard the words that had ended the most terrible war that the wizarding world had ever seen.

"EXPECTO SACRIFICUM!"

She had whirled to see Harry standing, his head thrown back, his chest exposed, his wand out, steady, pointing at the place where Voldemort’s heart would have been, if he had had one. His voice had rung out into the sky, silencing the battle that had been raging all around him.

The silence had endured for a very long time. The spell had done nothing. And in the dreadful, deadly pause that followed, Voldemort had begun to laugh. Ginny had nearly fainted from the tone of it – careless with cold triumph. Tinged with a wanton disregard for life. Twisted. Hardened. Death made mortal. And one by one, his Death Eaters had joined him in his laughter, until the Hogwarts grounds had echoed with the dizzying noise of evil, victorious.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04