The Lewis House 94 страница

"Come on, Dad, help him," he muttered to himself. "Come on, Prongs - Expecto PATRONUM!" That one seemed to have more of an effect; the silver stag charged towards the Dementors, and they made a collective move backwards, but made no effort to flee.

Harry landed on a pile of splintered wood beside Sirius, and turned towards the Dementor closest to his godfather. A familiar, horrible feeling gnawed at his stomach and his head throbbed. He was cold and ill. He was going to faint; there were too many of them. Deep in his head, his mother began to scream, and there was nothing he could do to banish her voice. The Dementors hadn't affected him this badly in a long time, but then, he hadn't faced them without Norbert. The auras of the dragons must have been incredible, to keep this much of the terror at bay.

Happy thought. He had to find one. Something joyful - anything - Harry searched himself in a panic, desperate to save Sirius. In his mind he saw his godfather, his head thrown back in the car park of the cinema, laughing fit to burst. Harry clung to the image; Sirius would live through this. Sirius would come out of this, and they would go together on another Black and Potter prank - yes - Harry's nausea lifted; the necessary space cleared in his mind -

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he cried, and the Dementors in front of him were blasted away by the force of the Patronus he produced.

Harry whirled, putting himself between his godfather and the rest of the Dementors. But he didn't know how much more he would be able to help. He had very little energy left. He began to sway, and he fought to keep his footing, but the world was becoming a blur. Between the Dementors' gathered, hulking robes, Harry saw the choppy water crashing against the rocks… saw the guards doing their best to drive off the outer ring of Dementors and work their way to the center… saw what looked like an army of wizards and witches on broomsticks rocketing towards the prison, Charlie at their head.

"Expecto… Patronum…" Harry managed, as the Dementors crushed towards him, knocking him back. He stumbled and fell, landing just in front of where Sirius had collapsed, and he crawled backwards, trying to hold out his wand as he protected his godfather with his body. "Expecto Patronum…"

But Prongs had deserted him. Harry tried to concentrate, but could not. Far away, he heard the shouts of Charlie and the other dragon keepers. They sounded terrified. But Harry wasn't terrified at all… he was resigned. The fog in his head was growing thicker… the voices of his friends were growing dimmer… daylight was spiraling away…. was it his mind losing consciousness? Harry only knew that it was suddenly very dark, and that it smelled like rancid meat, and that his wrist had been clasped by something bony and frozen, and that what felt like a skinless finger was lifting his chin…

"Not Harry… please not Harry…"

"HARRY!"

Harry couldn't answer Charlie now. The stench of decay filled his nostrils and something cold and damp touched his mouth.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Harry gasped and stumbled. A dragon, wide and warm and silver, blasted its way between his body and the Dementor that had been about to Kiss him. It forced the Dementor several yards back, allowing Harry time to recover his wits and roll onto his hands and knees, and then it swooped upwards and vanished into thin air.

Harry gripped his wand and pushed himself to his feet, squinting after the dragon and wondering how it had disappeared so quickly. It took him a moment to realize that it was not a dragon at all - it was Charlie's Patronus - before it swooped to shore again and pushed the Dementors further away.

And it was not the only one. Harry heard Cho's voice, and Viktor's, and Mick's, mingling with dozens of others. And all around him he saw explosions of silver light - another dragon, a giant eagle, a Manticore -

The Dementors were scattering. The circle around Harry and Sirius was growing wider, and Harry was grabbed beneath the arms and hauled onto a stretcher. He was strapped onto the back of a mediwizard's broom before he knew what had happened.

"Who is that?" someone demanded.

"Sirius Black." Charlie sounded baffled.

"Is he alive?" Cho asked anxiously, and Harry craned his head to watch as Sirius was hauled onto another mediwizarding broom and buckled flat to a stretcher.

"What was he thinking?" Mick asked.

"He really is mad, isn't he?" said someone else.

"Guess there's some truth to those stories…"

The voices died out as the mediwizard's broom lifted into the air, and all Harry could hear for the next several minutes was the wind that blew across him. When they landed, they floated him into the medical tent and lifted from the stretcher to a bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the same thing was being done to Sirius.

Harry sat up and swung his legs out of bed.

"Mr. Potter, please -" the mediwizard began, but Harry got to his feet and crossed to the bed where Sirius was lying, still unconscious.

"Sirius?" he said, reaching out to feel Sirius's forehead. It was almost as gray as his robes and was icy-cold to the touch. "Sirius? Wake up."

Several dragon keepers were standing around, discussing what to do next, but Harry blocked out their voices and concentrated on trying to wake Sirius.

"Here! Take this." Cho stood behind Harry – he didn't know how long she'd been there. She held out a large bar of chocolate.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking the bar from her and unwrapping it. His hands were shaking, and he was surprised to realize that he was angry. Relief was not his uppermost emotion. He didn't need to ask what had happened - he knew that Sirius was insane enough to try that spell of Hermione's without telling anyone, and there was no other explanation for Sirius's sudden appearance in the guard station. He hadn't arrived at Azkaban by accident. Not this time.

"You need to eat this," Harry said, shaking Sirius's shoulder. "You need to wake up and eat this now."

Sirius groaned, but his eyes did not open. "Harry?" he mumbled.

"Eat this," Harry repeated. "Don't talk." He broke off a piece of chocolate and stuffed it into Sirius's mouth.

Sirius swallowed, and his eyes flickered open. "It didn't work, did it?" he asked weakly. "They're… still alive."

"Yes, they're bloody still alive, Sirius!" Harry glared down at the lunatic on the bed. He heard people whispering behind him, and he turned. "He's all right! Just leave me with him."

For a minute, everyone stared at him without moving, and then - "Come on," Cho said, shepherding the other wizards away from Harry and Sirius. "They're okay, let's leave them for a bit."

Harry shot her a grateful look. When everyone was out of earshot, he turned and broke off another piece of the chocolate bar. Sirius, who was now propped up on his elbows, and still rather gray, looked sick at the sight of more chocolate, but he ate it without protest and immediately looked much better. He sat up.

"I thought they were going to kill you," Harry said. His fingers were shaking. He half-flung the rest of the chocolate at Sirius, pulled his wand and Summoned a chair from across the tent. It flew over with twice the necessary force and clattered to the floor. Harry sank into it. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing?"

"I thought I'd – " Sirius choked in mid-swallow and cleared his throat. "I thought I'd worked out a way to destroy them."

"And you just thought you'd come and try it now, for fun? Without telling anyone? Just swim out to Azkaban and have a go at the Dementors because you thought you'd worked it out?" Harry knew he sounded unhinged, but there was no other way to be. "Are you stupid? Are you mad?"

Sirius winced and touched his temples. "Yes," he muttered.

"Yes," Harry agreed vehemently. "You are. We fought a war - you're the one who told me never to go in alone, you never go in alone, did you forget that? Didn't you just give Ginny a lecture on that?"

Sirius sat there, his shoulders bent, rubbing his head. He didn't answer.

"What's the matter with everyone lately?" Harry gave a hysterical laugh. "I can't - you can't die, do you understand that? You can't die."

Sirius moved a hand over his face and pressed his thumb and fingers to his closed eyelids.

"My dad left me to you. Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Sirius barely whispered.

But Harry wasn't finished. The dark thing that had begun to unravel in his heart in front of Ginny, weeks ago, was thrashing again. Begging to be seen and heard. "Both of you," he spat. "Idiots. Her going to Malfoy's, you going into Azkaban - what's next? Hermione jumps off a building and Ron drowns himself?"

"Harry…"

"Just shut up." He was furious. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to die?"

Sirius turned and looked at him. "Of course not," he said faintly.

"Well too bad, you'll be dead soon," Harry shot. "Remus is going to kill you."

Some of Sirius's color came back and he gave a choked sort of laugh.

Harry swung out blindly and hit Sirius hard in the shoulder before he'd thought about it. "You think this is funny?" he shouted. "Yeah?"

"Harry – " Sirius said, swiping Harry's hand away and grabbing his shoulder. "Listen to me, I'm being serious. I know it was stupid, but this was for you. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

Harry shook Sirius off and sat back. He ran a hand through his hair. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"It means you look old," Sirius turned to sit on the edge of the bed and setting his feet on the floor. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You look older than your father ever looked, and you're younger than he was when he died. You look like hell. You act like hell. The Dementors are affecting you –"

Harry gave another mad laugh. "Affecting me? Yeah, well that's probably because they nearly Kissed me just now."

Sirius went gray again. "Nearly Kissed…"

"That's right. What did you think was going to happen if you tried a stunt like this on my shift? I went down there to get you, and one of them grabbed me by the face and you're right. It had an effect."

For a moment, it seemed that Sirius was going to be sick.

"Look, just forget it." Harry snorted. "There's no point getting upset now. We're both alive. Thank Charlie Weasley for that."

Sirius shut his eyes for a moment and put his hand over them again. "I will," he said huskily, after a moment. "I'm…I suppose there's no point in telling you that I am sorry."

"Not really," Harry said mercilessly. "You might tell the others, though. It took about twenty people to drive back the Dementors after what you did, and they all risked themselves."

Sirius looked paler with every word, but Harry didn't care. He was going to get this out.

"You know, I might look like hell, but at least I'm not a suicidal maniac."

"I'm not -" Sirius began, sitting up straight.

"You are. You're insane. Going down there by yourself with an untested spell -"

Sirius looked desperate. "It was time. The Dementors have to be -"

"Sirius, no one disagrees that the Dementors are a problem. Everyone would like to see them destroyed. But Mr. Weasley told you that other things had to be dealt with first -"

Sirius made a derisive noise. "Other things," he said mockingly, and Harry wanted to hit him again.

"Don't talk about Arthur Weasley in front of me," he said coldly. "Not one word. Be as stupid as you like, but don't try blaming him for it. He's brilliant. He's been more of a father to me than anyone else ever has and I won't let anyone -" Harry felt his throat closing.

Sirius looked struck to the heart.

"Sirius. Harry. Good afternoon, both of you."

Harry turned in his chair so fast that he almost knocked himself over. Mr. Weasley stood between the open flaps of the tent, his fingertips steepled in front of his mouth. He wore long, dark blue robes, a crooked, formal hat, and a grave expression. He gave Harry a quiet nod, then fixed his eyes on Sirius and studied him from across the room, looking more truly like the Minister of Magic than Harry had ever seen him.

He wondered how much Mr. Weasley had heard.

Sirius seemed to be wondering the same thing; Harry turned back to look at his godfather and was startled by the expression on his face. Sirius looked apprehensive, afraid of punishment, and very, very young. Harry had the distinct feeling that he was looking not at a man, but at a boy from Hogwarts.

"A-Arthur -" Sirius tried to stand.

"You had better sit." Mr. Weasley dropped his hands to his sides and turned his gaze back to Harry. "All right, Harry?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded.

"That was a very brave thing you did," he said, and lay a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thank you."

Harry's shoulders relaxed under the comforting pressure. "All right."

"Arthur, I'm sorry - " Sirius burst out. "I didn't think."

Mr. Weasley looked at Sirius. "I hope not," he said, still quietly. "I would hate to believe that you considered the situation for even one minute before risking as many lives as you did. I would prefer to believe that you temporarily lost your mind."

"He did," Harry muttered.

"Harry." Mr. Weasley held up a hand to silence him. "Let Sirius explain himself to me."

Sirius opened his mouth, and his expression was a familiar mix of defensiveness, self-righteousness and scorn. But to Harry's surprise, before Sirius could get a word out, his eyes dimmed, his mouth closed, and he shook his head miserably. "There's no explanation," he managed. "I don't know what I… I thought I could…destroy them."

Mr. Weasley was silent for a moment. "This is difficult," he said. "I can't deny that I have a very personal reaction… for Charlie's sake, and Harry's. And yours. Not to mention the fact that I have trusted you to look after my son and daughter."

Harry glanced at Sirius and saw that he looked sicker than ever.

"But my reasons for suspending you from the Ministry are entirely professional," Mr. Weasley continued. "Make no mistake about that."

Sirius's mouth fell open. "Suspending me?" he repeated. "Arthur, please, you can't - there's so much I need to -"

"I have to." Mr. Weasley looked grimly at him. "Do you think I want to? Do you think that it will make things simpler for me to organize and control? I need you there, Sirius. But you have trespassed on high-security grounds, you have impersonated a Dark creature, you flouted the mandate of the Privy Council - not to mention the Minister - that no action is to be taken against the Dementors without their full approval."

Harry's head spun as Mr. Weasley continued to list infractions.

"You have recklessly endangered employees of the Ministry. You have endangered yourself. And you are in direct violation of Misuse of Magic Code 50, Article 13 - no wizard shall publicly practice undeveloped and unsanctioned magic. You have shown poor judgment all around. How can I allow you to continue the trials of Death Eaters without first serving any punishment?"

"Punishment?" Harry asked at once, his stomach cold. "What do you - you don't mean he has to go to -"

"These are not crimes worthy of Culparrat," Mr. Weasley assured him. "But… they are crimes. You are suspended, Sirius."

"For how long?" Sirius demanded.

"Until further notice." Mr. Weasley's disappointment was evident in his eyes. "I will discuss it with several people and determine what is just. Until then…I suggest you consider your actions and make amends to those you could easily have hurt." He sighed, and his eyes grew gentler. "You have every right to hate them, Sirius. I don't pretend to understand what you suffered at their hands. And I am sorry that they are still alive, for your sake."

Sirius looked away. He gave a very faint nod.

"I will inform you when a decision has been reached." Mr. Weasley went towards the tent flaps. "Get some rest, both of you." He left them alone.

The tent was silent for several minutes, and then Sirius got to his feet. "I'm going home," he said. Harry could barely hear him. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I'm so…" Sirius looked helplessly at him. "I know it doesn't make a difference," he muttered, and pulled his wand to Disapparate.

"Wait," Harry said quickly.

Sirius lowered his wand and went still.

Harry stood and faced his godfather. Sirius was taller, and technically he was older - the lines on his face were testament to that. But he still looked strangely young, and Harry thought how truly young he was. Or immature, at least. Sirius had never had an opportunity to grow up. He had been in school during a war too. And before it had ended, before he had ever had an opportunity to think of anything else, he had been thrown in Azkaban, where he had learned nothing but fear and horror and revenge. He had escaped - but only in time to fight another war - and now…

Now they were on equal footing. Neither of them had had much time to get used to the real world, and both of them had done some stupid things. And, Harry realized, he was no longer angry with Sirius. Not really. There was no point, now that Mr. Weasley had punished him.

"It's all right," Harry said, into the silence. "You don't have to apologize. I'm… just glad you're all right."

Sirius bowed his head.

"I'm sorry you're suspended."

"I deserve it," Sirius said harshly, not looking up. "But the rest of the Ministry doesn't. Ron doesn't - he's going to have twice the work. I didn't think. I didn't think."

"Yeah, well. It… happens." Harry thought back on the times when he had done thoughtless, reckless things. "But don't worry about me, all right? We're…" He wasn't quite sure how to put it. "We're all right, Sirius."

Sirius looked up at him. "Yeah?" he asked, sounding no older than Harry was.

"Yeah."

A smile flickered across Sirius's face and then he was grim again. "Thank you for what you did," he said. "For… saving my life." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I don't know what I -"

"Stop," Harry said. "Forget it. We're fine, all right? I never thanked you for Expecto Sacrificum, so… we're even."

Sirius glanced at him and looked oddly hesitant. "Does it… bother you, when I tell you how much you're like your dad?" he asked.

Harry's heart swelled, as it always did when the comparison was made. "It's the best thing you can tell me."

Sirius nodded, and then he narrowed his eyes and gave Harry a very funny look. "I just had a thought," he said. "I… don't know if you'll go for it."

Harry waited.

"Instead of a prank… next time we do a Black and Potter…" Sirius looked as if he didn't quite know how to say it. "Have you ever been to Godric's Hollow? I mean - since you left it?"

Harry's heart began to beat fast and hard. "No," he whispered.

"Would you… want to…"

"Yes," Harry said quickly. "Yes, I want to."

Sirius nodded. "All right," he said, and though his voice was dry, his eyes were rather wet. "We'll do that. I'd… better go and… talk to Remus."

Harry's chest was tight. "Good luck," he managed.

Sirius gave him a fleeting smile, and raised his wand. "See you later, Harry," he said, and Disapparated.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Ella

~*~

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all the loyal readers who guessed this was coming. Isn't it fun to be right? Thanks to the Roxin' Michelle Ravel for the French translations. (English translations are at the end.)

And thanks to the indefatigable beta readers: Cap'n Kathy, Caroline, CoKerry and Firelocks

~*~

"Okay," said Ginny, and she tucked the blankets back around Mr. Granger's chest. She liked Saturdays; Remus let her work for two hours on weekend mornings, and it made her feel more useful - though it still didn't seem like enough. "I'm sorry I can't do more today. I'll be back tomorrow, all right?"

She passed a hand over his face and was sickened again by the twisted minefield of angry knots and ruined tissue that surrounded his brain. She couldn't even feel the brain itself, and had no idea what condition it was in. Their bones had absorbed much of the damage from the Cruciatus Curse; Ginny had made that determination when she had worked on their legs and found that it was worst in the centers, where the bones were. In a way, that was good. It meant that the bones had absorbed the bulk of the impact, keeping damage away from the more fragile tissue. But it made the tissue inside his skull much harder to read. Ginny had turned the Grangers over and felt their heads from behind, thinking that it might have been easier to approach that way. But their spinal cords were full of knots, too, and there were things in the front that required more immediate attention.

Like their eyes. Ginny passed her fingers through the air just over Mr. Granger's eyes. It was difficult. The energy was both sharp and deadened, like running her thumb across a hundred dull razorblade edges. There was no life in the aura here. Nothing to work with. Her fingers, now acutely sensitive, could not find a single knot of useful energy, and Ginny knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Hermione's father would never see again. She only hoped that the curse had not passed behind his eyes and done equal damage to his brain. She patted his shoulder and turned to give Mrs. Granger her half of the Healing session that Ginny had scheduled for this Saturday morning.

Since the ruined Wolfsbane Potion, there had been no more spur-of-the-moment Healing sessions. There had been no more running off without permission, and there had been no dragons. There had been, instead, a detailed schedule, a renewed appreciation for Remus, and a shocking improvement in her Potions and Arithmancy marks. There had also been a sense of peace and rest. She was no longer exhausted all the time, and she had felt no need to snap at anyone. Almost everything had set itself to rights.

Almost.

She'd ruined it with Harry. She should have told him that she knew how she felt about him, and she should have told him how she knew it - she should have explained. She should have been more understanding about his feelings towards Malfoy. In the past few weeks, Ginny had tried to reverse their situations in her head; she'd imagined that Harry was on a broom behind Pansy Parkinson every day, meeting her after hours without explaining himself. Ginny could hardly bear the vision. She'd treated him unfairly, and sometimes she missed him so much that she nearly sprinted down to the Notch in the middle of study sessions to ask him to forgive her. But if he hadn't said anything to her by now, then he probably didn't feel the way she'd hoped he would - she tried not to realize it because it hurt so much to let him go… but there it was.

She pulled the covers away from Mrs. Granger's chest and concentrated. Harry had no place here. There was no schoolwork; there were no N.E.W.T.s. There was this hour, and these little knots of fire that consumed the upper section of Mrs. Granger's throat. Ginny had worked patiently, a few inches at a time, and after today she would begin to work on their cranial organs and their minds. She shut her eyes and painstakingly untangled a strand of Mrs. Granger's energy, as if it were a very fine chain that had got itself into knots in a jewelry box.

When the energy was clean, Ginny checked her watch. "That's you taken care of," she said to Mrs. Granger, and replaced her blankets. "It's good to see you." She smoothed Hermione's mum's hair away from her face and thought how strange it was that she had become so familiar with the Grangers' sleeping expressions. They were silent friends. She felt she knew them intimately. But when they woke, they would hardly know her at all.

When they woke. Ginny would not allow herself to think "if" anymore. She would work until it happened. Her gifts were nothing to her if she couldn't use them for the sake of her family first - and Hermione was family. Hermione had buoyed her up for the last two months, and she had done amazing work for her dad at the Ministry. She had helped to end the war, she was in love with Ron, and she deserved her parents back.

"I have the loveliest sister, in your daughter," she said quietly to Mrs. Granger. "You'll be so amazed when you see how she's turned out."

Ginny left St. Mungo's on schedule. She Apparated into her bedroom at Lupin Lodge to put away her coat and badge, then threw on work robes and went downstairs to study.

When she ran into Harry at the bottom of the stairs, it was at once so natural and so unexpected that she gasped.

"H-Harry!" She hadn't seen him since the day after Remus's terrible transformation. She had watched him walk away and she had known, deep in her heart, that she could have gone after him. But she hadn't.

Harry took a step back, looking as if he would have liked to run. He swallowed - she could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat - and nodded as if to say that he was indeed Harry.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm only here for a minute," he said quickly, glancing away. "I'm on my way out with Sirius."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04