The Lewis House 83 страница

"You do?" Mrs. Longbottom said. "Really? But anyone could hide out across the street and hex us. There's that building over there."

"These windows are hex-proof," Neville laughed. "And anyone who comes here has to pass through three security points. Yes. I think you're being a bit paranoid."

The Longbottoms started to laugh as well. "I suppose you're right," Mr. Longbottom said, but when Neville moved to open the curtain, his mother let out another horrified yell.

Neville gave Ginny a look, and walked back over to stand in front of the table.

"Do you need them to lie down?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "They're fine like this." She bent on one knee in front of Mrs. Longbottom so that she had to look up at Mrs. Longbottom.

"Mrs. Longbottom," she said. "Can I ask you to sit here, straight in your chair and close your eyes? This won't hurt a bit."

"You're the mediwitch," Mrs. Longbottom said, willingly, and shut her eyes. Ginny closed hers as well and held her hands out to feel the aura in front of her. It was there, floating in a nebulous sea above Mrs. Longbottom's body. It didn't feel normal but it didn't feel anything as awful as the Grangers' either. Slowly, she moved her hands closer and let them rest just inches from Mrs. Longbottom's stomach, trying to draw out a sensation. After what seemed like several minutes, her fingers began to tingle, just as they had for the Grangers, but it was a much more gradual feeling. And then, although she had expected it, she jumped back in shock when she found the residual of the curse, buried deep within Mrs. Longbottom's being.

When she opened her eyes, Mrs. Longbottom was sleeping, and Neville was looking at her in shock.

"Wha –?" he started to ask, and then, glancing his father, stopped himself. Ginny smiled encouragingly, and moved to repeat the action on Mr. Longbottom. She was starting to feel very tired, and, once she had exacted the same results from Neville's father, she stood and let Neville guide her out of the room.

"Ginny! Are you okay? What happened?" Neville asked, as soon as they were in the corridor. He hurried to guide her to a chair.

"It's been a busy morning," she answered, and, leaning forward, put her elbows on her knees and rested her head between her hands. "It's good though, Nevillie. Your parents seem to have been healing themselves. Slowly. Very slowly. They'd probably never live long enough to heal themselves at this pace, but I think… I think that if I work with them and with the Grangers… well, to know that it's possible even to get as far along as your parents are is a good sign."

"What did you feel?" he asked. "What hurt your hands? I saw you jump."

"It's a residual," Ginny explained. "Remus worked it out. It's like the remnants of a curse – a ghost. The Cruciatus Curse is lingering inside of them. I mean, the spell itself is gone, but the effects of it are continuing to try to destroy them. And they're able to fight back. Their energy is stronger than the residual is. But it's so, so difficult."

"Are they in pain?"

"No. The pain is gone. They're not aware of it." Ginny sat up and gave Neville a hug.

"I can work with them," she said. "I can't promise anything – I don't know what's going to happen – I'm still learning. But we won't know unless we try, will we?"

"Try… you mean, try to heal them?" Neville gazed at her, his face uncomprehending..

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know what I can do for them. I might not be able to do anything."

"Still… thanks for the thought," Neville said slowly, looking a little dazed. He shook himself. "Do you need help getting anywhere? You look really tired."

"Walk me to the fireplace?"

Neville stood and held out his hand to pull Ginny up off the chair. They walked through the corridors in silence, and Ginny felt both triumphant and tired. She had the potential to do great things with this gift, she realized. And the only problem was going to be sorting out how to help everyone without collapsing from exhaustion. When they reached the fireplace, however, she felt a little better, and when she said goodbye to Neville and told him she'd return tomorrow to work on his parents, she only felt true enthusiasm. She'd be all right.

~*~

On the first of March, the Weasley children sat around the breakfast table at the Burrow, slumped over their tea and coffee. A giant pile of eggs sat in the middle of the table, and nineteen colorful candles floated above them.

A bit of wax dripped on Fred's hand as he reached for the spoon. "Mum," Fred rasped. "Insane."

"Too… early…" George stuck his knife into the jam jar as if it were the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do.

Ginny was so tired that she couldn't even speak. She pushed her breakfast aside, folded her arms on the table, and laid her head upon them. She didn't want to complain, because she knew that if she did someone might notice how much she was trying to do, and she couldn't stand to stop doing any of it. Remus didn't know that after he and Hermione had renewed the spell that she'd spent all day Sunday at St. Mungo's, assessing the damage in the Grangers' tissue. It was bad, but at least Hermione's spell had worked. At least their eyes were closed, and Ginny could feel their human auras again. She had begun at their feet, and she hoped that by the time she got to their brains, she'd know what to do. But she had to keep working. Hermione had looked so much happier yesterday.

"Ginny…"

Her name swam toward her through a fog. "Mmph minute," she mumbled, and sighed into her arms. She'd get up. She'd help her mother finish tidying up the house. Adam Hopewell's friends were coming in two weeks, and the Weasleys were home to decide what they wanted to preserve from their childhood rooms and to celebrate Ron's birthday; there would be a family lunch today, and then a larger party in two weeks to celebrate Ginny's birthday as well. She didn't want to preserve much from her room - her Hogwarts letter, her books from Harry, a few trinkets her family had given her. And since Remus had given her a whole day off of classes to do this, she planned to pack up quickly and steal the rest of the time to study for her N.E.W.T.s. She couldn't fall behind. As long as she didn't fall behind, it would be all right.

"Ginny… Ginner Pinner… She's really tired, she can't even hear us."

"No I'm not," she said groggily. "Yes I can." She sat up and took a swig of coffee, though she could hardly see the cup.

"You shouldn't drink that stuff, you know," said George. "It's bad for you."

"Health lectures from the inventor of Canary Creams?" Ginny was pleased when her brothers laughed. Feeling a bit more awake, she gazed out the window in time to see the approach of the family owl. "Look, there's Thoth."

Everyone turned to the window. Poor old Errol had passed away, and Thoth was a young, brown, bright-eyed owl who had yet to struggle with any parcel, no matter how heavy. But Ginny rather missed Errol, molty and sad as he'd been, and she wasn't used to Thoth.

"Daily Prophet," said Bill, grabbing it out of the mail stack. "No ugly headlines today - good start."

"Sports section?" Ron held out his hand.

"Business," said Fred and George together.

As her brothers divided the paper, Ginny picked up the other mail, untied the twine, and unrolled the various bills and magazines. "Witch Weekly wants eligible bachelors to sign up and be fought over by desperate single witches," Ginny said, and tossed the magazine to Charlie. "Have at it."

"Except he's not eligible, is he?" Bill murmured. Charlie hit him in the arm.

But Ginny could no longer concentrate on her brothers. She had just unrolled the March issue of Charmed Life. She looked at the cover for a moment in stunned silence, and then slowly - slowly - she tried to hide it in her lap, under the table.

"Ickle Ginny's hiding her favorite news source," Fred crowed. They all looked at her, and Ginny flushed. "Must be another public snog. We're going to have to string Harry up if he can't behave himself - hand it over."

Ginny sat on the magazine before Fred could snatch it.

"Oooh, must be something really naughty," said Fred, waggling his eyebrows and pushing back his chair. "Shall we have a look, George?"

"Oh, I think so." George stood as well.

"No - seriously -" Ginny gripped the sides of her chair. She knew it was too late to make a run for it. "Please, it's early, don't -"

But they were on either side of her, tickling her and trying to force her out of her seat. Ginny shrieked for help, but the rest of them were clearly entertained; they only cheered the twins on.

"No, no - no - Fred, STOP!" Ginny screamed with laughter. She wouldn't be laughing once they got their hands on Charmed Life. "George, get your hands off - MUM!"

But George, who had no respect, yanked the magazine free. He held it aloft, triumphant, for everyone to see.

The Weasley boys looked. Their faces shifted from amusement to shock, and from shock to horrified disgust.

"You're joking -"

"No they didn't -"

"Not Malfoy -"

"I'll tear his head off -"

"Give me that!"

In seconds, the five of them were on their feet, huddled around the picture. Ginny heard the pages being turned, and then Bill was reading aloud.

"On February eleventh, after a long, hard shift on dragonback, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune and employee of the Permanent Azkaban Patrol, landed his Chinese Fireball and began his second shift as broomback escort to the Minister's daughter. Virginia Weasley, whom the Ministry has recently discovered harbors rare Empathic gifts, has been spending her afternoons Healing the dragons. Draco Malfoy has spent his afternoons at her side, to protect her from the dragons' dangers while she works. It is common knowledge that the Ministry dragons have been experiencing difficulty and that the P.A.P. has been faulty since the start. But the diligence of Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy has paid off; in recent weeks there have been no accidents. The improved atmosphere may be due to Miss Weasley's extraordinary talents."

Bill paused. He seemed to be struggling with the next sentence.

"Or perhaps love is in the air."

"Oh no." Ginny put her face in her hands.

"Spring fever has finally come to Azkaban, and inspired a most unlikely pair of…" Bill stopped. "Of lovers. When the couple is not spooning in plain sight on the back of Malfoy's Firebolt 5, they must conduct their romance in secret, making use of dark pubs like the Leaping Fish, in Stornoway, to further their dark attraction…" Bill stopped again. "I can't read any more of this," he said.

There were more sounds of pages rustling as the magazine changed hands, and a long silence followed. Ginny listened to her heartbeat in her ears, and wondered what she'd done in her past lives to earn the scarlet reputation that the press was so eager to give her.

"I'LL KILL HIM!" Ron shouted presently.

"No, no, he didn't do it," Ginny said, rubbing her head. "Flummery did. Believe me, he won't like it any more than I do."

Charlie broke the huddle and held the magazine close to Ginny's face. "What," he demanded, "does this mean, Ginny?"

She couldn't answer. Her whole brain was taken up with watching the train-wreck spectacle of her hand reaching out to touch Draco's face… of Draco weeping openly… Draco taking her hand and pressing his mouth to her palm… the two of them leaning across the tiny table at the Leaping Fish to kiss in the sloppiest way…

Ginny giggled.

She didn't mean to do it, and all her brothers gasped when she did, but it was just too funny.

"Wow," she said, and giggled again. "Look at him crying. It wasn't like that at all. He's going to be so angry." She imagined Draco's face, when he saw this picture, and began to laugh in earnest. "I'm not looking forward to seeing him today," she said, and pushed the magazine back at Charlie. Feeling wide-awake and strangely entertained, Ginny turned back to munch on her toast.

"Seeing him?" Charlie threw up his hands. The magazine fluttered. "You're never going back there - you think I'm letting you spoon on broomback after reading - after seeing -"

"Oi, Charlie, give it a rest." Fred and George were quick to sit down and resume breakfast. "It's not like it's real, or anything."

"Fanks, Fred!" Ginny said through her toast.

"Or is it?" George asked, shooting her a mischievous grin. "Minister's Daughter Heals Malfoy Heir - is it her rare magic power, or is it something more?"

"Wait a minute." Ginny dropped her toast. "Did it… did it really say all that, about me being Empathic?"

George nodded.

"Oh no," Ginny wailed. "That was supposed to be a secret!"

"Why?" Fred looked unconcerned. "You'll be famous."

"Exactly. The last famous Healers got killed."

Fred and George stared at her.

"Bloody reporter!"

"Ugly old cow!"

"What were you doing in a pub with Malfoy?" Ron's voice was controlled, but his face was red. He sat down next to Ginny and waited.

"Not snogging him," Ginny snapped. "Pass the cream."

"I know you weren't. I know you wouldn't." Ron snorted. "It's - I mean, it's obviously a fake, isn't it, look at your face. It's distorted."

"Also, I don't drool like an animal when I kiss," Ginny said, and giggled again when all her brothers were struck momentarily silent.

"But you were… in that pub with him," Ron said finally.

"Yes."

Ron looked at his plate. "All right … and what were you doing there?"

"Look, if you want to interrogate people, go to work. I don't have to answer you."

Ron gave her a sharp look. "I have good reasons to suspect him, even if he seems to be working like everyone else. You shouldn't be alone with him, no matter what."

She shouldn't be alone, she shouldn't be working on dragons, she shouldn't be honing her skills - Ginny wished she'd put a sausage on her plate earlier. She wanted to spear something with a fork. "I'm not stupid, you know. I know Malfoy just as well as you do, I know all the reasons not to trust him, and-"

"No you don't." Ron took a deep breath and let it out. "And I can't tell you yet. I'm just telling you that you shouldn't put yourself in any more danger than you already have. Don't be alone with him, Ginny. For… for whatever reason." Ron gave her an unsettling, sidelong look. "What was the reason?"

Ginny tossed her head and said nothing. She felt their eyes on her and knew she was only making them more suspicious, but she didn't want them to know she'd been working on Malfoy. If they found out, then Remus would find out, and he'd lecture her, and… Ginny sighed. Remus was going to find out anyway.

"I was working on him, all right?" she said. "That's all."

"Healing him?" Bill asked. He pulled the magazine out of Charlie's clenched hands, and sat down.

"Yes. Because I was finding it hard to be near him and work on the dragons at the same time."

"He let you work on him?"

Ginny shrugged. "I told him I needed the practice."

"And he agreed to help you?" Bill looked surprised. "That doesn't sound like Malfoy."

"It isn't. He did it to annoy Harry."

"Ah." Bill sat back. "So what happened? What'd you feel?"

Ginny shook her head. "That's his business. I've been thinking about what you said about ethics, and I've done some research. Other medical professionals take patient confidentiality oaths, so I took one of my own."

"What, just in your head?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, I trust myself."

Bill looked disappointed but impressed. "Fair enough."

"Harry knows, then?" Ron glanced at her. "About you in the pub with Malfoy alone and everyth-"

"Harry knows," Ginny said shortly. She didn't want to think about what Harry might do, when he saw this. He had hardly looked at her since she had visited the Notch last week, and she had a bad feeling that this issue of Charmed Life would only make the tension between them worse.

She could still feel Charlie hovering behind her. It was starting to get on her nerves. "Look, would you sit down?" she nearly shouted. "The picture's a fake, I'm going back to work this afternoon, you need me up there, I'm eighteen in two weeks, I'm not in nappies, and I'm sick to death of your attitude!" She looked over her shoulder and up at her brother, and was satisfied to see Charlie's mouth hanging open. "Well?" she said. "It hurts my feelings, the way you've been acting. And it makes Harry feel like he's got a right to act like a prat."

Charlie's face darkened. "Has Harry been a prat to you?"

Ginny sighed. "Oh, Charlie." She turned a bit in her chair, and gave him a friendly punch in the stomach. "Lighten up."

Charlie rubbed his stomach and sat down.

"What's with all the shouting?" Adam raced into the kitchen and straight to Bill's side. "Molly wants to know. Also, she's ready for boxes, we've finished in the attic - say, what's this?"

And to Ginny's horror, Adam snatched Charmed Life from the table, looking like his birthday had come early. He still hadn't forgiven her for Christmas.

"Woo woo!" he cried, darting away when Bill made a grab for him. "Has your mum seen this?" Laughing hard, he pointed at Ginny, then deliberately misread the caption below the offending photograph. "Is it her rare magic power - or is it her tongue?"

"ADAM!" shouted all the boys together, except for Ron, who snickered, despite the disgusted look on his face.

But Adam was gone. "MOLLY!" he called, as he pounded up the stairs. "MOLLY, GINNY'S IN TROUBLE!"

"He sounds like you," Ron said, still snickering at Ginny. "Muuum, look what Ron's done to the carpet… Muuum, Ron's hurting me…" He elbowed her. "This is the best birthday gift of all. Seems you're not the baby anymore."

"Oh yes I am," said Ginny, suddenly defensive of her title. "Tell him, Charlie."

But Charlie didn't have a chance.

"VIRGINIA MARY WEASLEY!"

The Burrow shook with their mother's magically amplified voice. Six Weasley children covered their ears.

"You're done for," said Fred.

"Nice knowing you," said George.

"COME HERE NOW!"

*

Ginny was glad to get outside and go to work. It wasn't cold anymore; rather the air was cool and soft and she shut her eyes to enjoy the smell of the sea before venturing into the dragon camp. She didn't want to explain that picture again. She hoped no one here would ask any questions, though she supposed she didn't have to answer them if they did. There were only a few people who deserved answers. Her mother had demanded a full explanation, but had taken it pretty well, all things considered, and after the first few minutes of shock, her brothers had been great all day. Ron's birthday lunch had been really pleasant, and Charlie had even apologized to her.

Ginny wasn't sure if everyone else would be willing to let the subject drop. Draco wouldn't ask questions, of course, because he knew the truth first hand, and Ginny assumed that he would avoid the topic at all costs. And if Harry even dared to ask questions then he was going to find himself in a lot of trouble. Remus was the only person she was afraid to face.

Ginny strode between the two giant rocks that were the entry to the invisible world of dragons. She put on her gear and went straight to Mordor, whose turn it was to be worked on, and she was relieved to see Draco waiting there as usual. She had rather wondered if he would show up today.

"Oh good. You're here."

"Here," he snarled, "and on every breakfast table in the country."

Ginny blinked. She'd been wrong; he wasn't going to avoid it. He took a step closer to her.

"Was this part of your experiment?"

"Oh yes." She rolled her eyes and stood her ground. "I was so hoping this would happen. My whole family's just as pleased as can be."

He gave her a look of disgust and crossed his arms. "They could not have been more displeased than…" Draco stopped and turned away. "It's been taken care of."

Ginny wasn't sure what he meant, but she knew it couldn't be good. Perhaps he'd had the reporters taken off and tortured - she certainly wouldn't have put it past him. But then she remembered what Ron had said once, about those reporters having been on the Malfoys' payroll, and she narrowed her eyes.

"It's your own fault, isn't it, if this happened?" She glared at him. "Those reporters have been on the spot for some incredible stories, haven't they? Got yourself to blame, haven't you, if it's come round to smack you in the arse?"

Draco looked so angry that Ginny thought he might strike her. "You," he hissed, "have no idea what you're saying, Weasley. And you have no understanding of what it means that every family in Britain has a picture of me kissing a - a -"

"Pureblood?" She couldn't help it.

Draco went whiter than usual, but to Ginny's surprise, he made no retort. He pulled on his gloves, Summoned his broom, and mounted it. "My dragon won't pay for your cheek," he spat, and though he was obviously furious, he moved back to make room for her. "Enough time has been wasted. Get on."

Ginny did. But the satisfaction she usually reaped from turning Mordor's cold knots into warm, smooth energy was less than usual, and she was very glad when they were done. She was glad that the dragons hardly seemed to need her anymore - even Norbert's aura was almost clean again. Perhaps she wouldn't have to do this for much longer. It was worse than ever to be near Draco, and she wished that she could work on him again. But he had never spoken of the pub, until today, and she knew that, thanks to Charmed Life, he probably never would.

"Are you for hire, Weasley?" he asked softly and suddenly, just behind her ear. Ginny jumped. Was he making a reference to the picture? Was he calling her a -

"What does that mean?" she asked coldly. "If it's what I think, then you'd better just land."

He laughed. "I'm not calling you a harlot. My god, do you honestly think I'd solicit you for that type of service?"

"That's it." Ginny put her wand away. "Land. You can't harass me, you signed a contract."

"My shift is over, in any case," he said, and took them gracefully to the ground. "And I was only asking if you wanted to earn a wage as a proper human Healer." He waited for her to step off the broom, and then dismounted. "You misinterpreted. Wishful thinking, perhaps."

Ginny gave him a foul look, then remembered that ridiculous image of the two of them in the Leaping Fish, salivating all over each other. Draco probably did kiss like that. She laughed, and he started.

"That wasn't a joke."

"I know."

His jaw tightened. "I have… a use for your services."

Ginny watched him carefully. Was this for him? His mother? She couldn’t yet work it out. "All right," she said, and waited.

He removed his gloves with unnecessary force. "Don't you even care to know what I'm asking of you?"

"Yes. Go on."

He visibly ground his teeth for a moment. "I know what Empaths are capable of," he said. "I will employ you - " and it sounded as if he enjoyed saying so, " - in your capacity as a Healer. On conditions of complete confidentiality." He took a menacing step towards her. "Don't think I can't make you regret a loose tongue, Weasley. No matter the pretensions to power that may have seized your delusional family, I can and will make you regret a breach of contract."

Ginny knew her mouth was open, but it took her a moment to close it. He was letting her try it again. She must have got through to him, the first time. And she really did want to practice, no matter what Ron had said about being alone with Draco. Whatever his reasons, they couldn't have been too bad if he wouldn't even tell her. "All right," she said, when she remembered to answer. "Where do you want to go?"

"You will attend me at my estate," he said. "Be at Malfoy Manor on Saturday, at ten o'clock."

Malfoy Manor. Ginny felt suddenly quite cold. "Be at - where?" she asked, and her voice sounded small to her ears.

Draco smiled - a slow smile, full of enjoyment. "Malfoy Manor, Weasley. You will attend on me there."

"I have another obligation on Saturdays."

Draco shrugged. "Consult your schedule, then. I'm certainly in no hurry." He was lying, and she could feel it. But he turned and walked towards the equipment tent without another word.

Ginny was so absorbed in her thoughts, and in watching the back of Draco's pale, unfathomable head as he sauntered away, that she almost missed seeing Harry. He stood several yards off, wand in hand, and had already changed his clothes. He looked terribly, terribly tired.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04