The Lewis House 102 страница

"Oh, here we go with the drama…" Ron rolled his eyes. "Just like Mum, honestly."

Ginny clenched her fists so tightly that the knuckles went white. She came around the couch towards Ron's chair, and Harry again had the feeling that she was going to strike. He felt very uncomfortable - he didn't want to see them fight. Harry had been close to the Weasleys for a long, long time, but he didn't think that he would ever really understand siblings - they loved each other so much, yet turned on each other so quickly, and then they made up without any hesitation… it was too strange.

"You know, Ron," Hermione said thoughtfully, cutting short whatever Ginny had been about to do, "she might be able to get Malfoy to tell you something. She's worked on him, after all, and it says in her textbook that Healers create strong bonds between their patients and themselves, even under the worst circumstances. It might actually be better for you if she spoke to him first."

Ron opened his mouth. He seemed to be trying to think of an argument. He narrowed his eyes up at Ginny. "If you were to speak to him, you'd have to tell me every single thing you found out."

Ginny put her hands on her hips. "No," she said at once. "I wouldn't. The kinds of things I feel when I work on people are extremely private. You know you wouldn't like it if I repeated things I knew about you."

Hermione blinked at her. "You've worked on Ron?" she said.

"No," Ginny said, but she dropped her hands from her hips and clasped them tightly behind her back, and Harry thought she might be lying. "But if I had, he wouldn't like it."

Ron looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. "It's - it's not the same," he said desperately. "I'm not hiding things that might really hurt people, but he might be. And if he is, then that means you are - Ginny, you realize that mediwizards are required to break their oaths for certain reasons, don't you?" He watched her for a moment, and when Ginny looked honestly surprised, he pressed on. "Life-threatening information can be revealed, you know that, don't you? Mediwizards have been kicked off the board for keeping their oaths in certain situations - I have the research in my room."

Ginny was rubbing her head. She seemed utterly confused.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't know if he can even do anything, it's just a feeling, it's not… Harry." She said his name with sudden determination, turned swiftly and looked down at him.

Harry raised his eyebrows and waited, apprehensive. "Yeah?"

"What do you think I should do?"

Harry swallowed hard. She was obviously still angry - and she obviously wanted him to back her up, but he wasn't sure that he could do it. His heart beat quickly and he searched himself for the right response. He wanted her to tell Ron what she knew, but he wanted her to keep her word… he wanted Malfoy to stay in prison, but he wanted Malfoy to come back to Azkaban and get the Dementors back in order, if indeed he could… But what was the right thing?

"Would you feel better if you spoke to Malfoy first?" Harry ventured, after what felt like several minutes.

"First?" Ginny repeated dangerously. "Before doing what?"

Harry steeled himself. He didn't think she was going to like this part of the answer. "Before… going ahead and telling Ron what you know, or what you think you know."

Ginny paled slightly. "You think I should do that, then?"

"I think… yeah. I think you probably should."

Ginny went quiet. She sat back and looked rather helplessly down at her hands. Her sudden silence surprised Harry, who had anticipated that she would turn her fury on him next. But instead she looked at the backs of her fingers, then turned her hands over and gazed meditatively at her palms.

"I suppose," she began. "I suppose if… if it's illegal to hold back in life-threatening situations… then I should say something. I didn't realize… But Harry, if you think I really should…"

Ron made a noise of annoyance. "Oh, she'll listen to him," he muttered. "That's nice."

"Shh," said Hermione.

Ginny glanced up at Ron, but there was no anger left in her face. "I just don't want to break my word," she said simply. "It makes me feel terrible." She looked at Harry. "I'm not trying to be stubborn, or make things harder on you and Charlie and Dad… I'm just trying to sort this out," she said. "You know how much I want to help you."

A lovely warmth began in Harry's toes and traveled all the way up to his head. The way she was looking at him made him want to kiss her. He knew that she wanted to help him - knew she loved him - and it made all the difference in the world. He wanted to help her just as much. Loved her just as much. It was strange to know that so clearly - but he knew it.

"Let her talk to Malfoy first," Harry said, wrenching his eyes from Ginny and looking at Ron instead. "There's no reason why she can't."

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked from Harry to Ginny, then shook his head and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Oh fine," he said. "Have it your way. I'm telling you he's not going to say anything, it's just going to be a waste of time - but we'll get him Ennervated for you if you want to talk to him so much."

"When?" Ginny asked at once. "I want to do it soon - can I go first thing on Monday?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Ron sighed again. "But you'll need an escort and I can't be there, I have too much to do."

Harry wished he didn't have to go to work. He wanted to be the one to help her, and he didn't trust some random Auror to do it. Moody would be all right, he supposed, but still, he wanted to be there to make sure there wasn't any trouble.

"I can go back to Culparrat on Monday," said Hermione. "And Penny and Fleur and Bill will be there - we're still working on the Enchantment and I wasn't planning to go back yet, but I have taken two days off and they might need me. I'll go with you, Ginny."

Harry felt much better.

"Actually," Ginny said slowly, frowning, "Bill might be the best one for it. Just because I might have a question about… something. And he'd be the right one to answer it."

Hermione looked a bit miffed.

"I'm sure you could answer it too," Ginny said quickly. "But he's got field experience."

"Don't get in a snit," Ron said, nudging Hermione with his elbow and looking more relaxed. "You won't want to help her anyway, you'll have your elves to boss around."

Harry shook his head - he had been right. It really was amazing how quickly Ron could recover from a fight.

Hermione's eyes opened wide in indignation. "They are not my elves!" she said at once. "And I don't boss them around!"

"Admit it. You tell them right where to go, and they love it."

"That's not funny, Ron. They've been oppressed, and if they like to be told what to do it's only because of centuries of horrible conditioning, and I never play into that, I'm very careful to consult them -"

Ron snickered and threw his arm around her. "Come here, you lunatic," he muttered, and pulled her chair closer to him with a heave of his arm. "You know I love the elves. No, I really do, I love them. In fact, I think I want one."

Hermione gasped and turned on him, but Ron clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Is everyone happy now?" he demanded, and when there was no answer, he let go of Hermione and gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Back to the match then - is it still on, Harry?"

Harry had been waiting for that question since five minutes after Ron and Ginny had left the house. "No," he said quickly. "It's all over. Sorry - forgot to tell you. It ended while you were out walking."

Ron was very still for a long time. After what seemed like an age, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The… the semifinals are next week, then?" he asked. His fingers were so tight on the back of his chair that Harry thought he might break the wood. "We know who's going?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"And… who's going?"

"The Bats, Puddlemere, the Falcons and - well." Harry stopped and shrugged and tried to look sorry. But he could hardly keep a straight face - he knew he wasn't going to be able to get the rest of it out without breaking up - he shot Hermione a panicked look, trying to signal her to take over.

"Spit it out, Potter," Ron said between gritted teeth. "Did. They. Win."

Harry ducked his head. He was going to laugh.

"They did really well until the end, Ron," Hermione cut in smoothly, her voice apologetic. "I listened to the last of it with Harry - the Cannons had a great season. No one can say they didn't compete for it this year, and I'm sure Oliver's pleased that he turned the team around the way he did. They'll only improve next year, after all, and won't that be nice?"

Harry was impressed. Hermione hadn't even batted an eyelash.

Ron, on the other hand, looked as though he had just been told that the sun would never rise again. "They… they lost?" he asked blankly. His shoulders sagged. "They lost the match?" He gazed at Hermione. "They were so close," he said. "So close."

"It's all right." Hermione patted his shoulder. "It's only Quidditch."

Ron gave her a look of such horror that Harry laughed out loud, and Ron immediately turned the horrified look on him.

"This is funny?" Ron demanded. "You can laugh?"

"Well, they played really well," Harry managed. "Really well, right up to the end. I think it's, you know. Worth celebrating." He snickered uncontrollably, and couldn't get himself back together. "You have to, Hermione," he gasped. "I can't."

Ron turned on Hermione. "Have to what?" he said angrily. "Look, someone had better tell me what the hell is going on, so that I can go down to the pub and order a bottle of Firewhiskey -"

"There's no need for that," Hermione said, patting his shoulder. "Why can't you just be happy that they did really well until the end? All the way until the end, when Knight caught the Snitch."

Ron blinked. He frowned. He tilted his head to one side. "When Knight…" he repeated, as if it were another language altogether.

"They'll be the fourth team in the semis, honestly, I can't see why you're so upset -"

But Harry could no longer hear Hermione. Ron shouted like a maniac, stumbled out of his chair and flung both his arms over his head, nearly knocking Hermione and her chair to the floor.

"YES!" he cried. "I KNEW IT! AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE THE SEMIS, TOO - WHO ARE THEY PLAYING - IT'LL BE THE BATS - I CAN'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS - AND HERE I THOUGHT I'D MISSED THEIR LAST MATCH OF THE SEASON - OH I'LL BE AT THE NEXT TWO - AND THERE WILL BE TWO -"

Hermione clapped her hands over her ears.

"That wasn't very nice," Ginny whispered. Her breath caught in Harry's ear and made him shiver. "You had him really scared there for a minute."

"He loves it," Harry whispered back. "Look at him."

Ron had pulled Hermione out of her chair and was trying to dance her around in circles. She was resisting. "I don't like the Cannons anymore," she was saying, pushing him off. "You went and gave me that shirt and ruined them for me -"

"Ruined them?" Ron stopped trying to dance. He pulled back, looking wounded, and Hermione dropped her haughty attitude at once.

"No, no, I'm teasing," she said, pulling Ron close again and kissing his chin. "Only teasing, I promise, of course you didn't ruin them, you made them better."

Ron looked only partly mollified, but Hermione continued to praise the Cannons to the skies - something Harry was sure he had never heard her do before - until Ron finally grinned again and kissed her with considerable force. Harry looked away a second too late. It wasn't that he minded, exactly, but he wasn't sure they'd ever been so energetic about it in front of him. He wondered what had got into them - especially Hermione. She couldn't be in her right mind.

"Get a room," Ginny muttered.

Harry snorted. And suddenly he became aware of Ginny's freckled, white hand in his. She had pushed her fingers between his own and was running her thumb up and down the side of his index finger, sending chills up his arm. It had been nearly two days since he'd had her alone and he wanted her alone again. Right now. But he wasn't sure how to ask.

"Do you want to… walk me home?" Ginny suddenly whispered in his ear. "Because I should go to bed soon."

Harry's heart gave a nice hard knock. "I'll walk you," he said under his breath, glad that she had given him an in. Together they stood up and slipped past Ron and Hermione, who were very nearly cooing at each other and didn't seem to notice them leaving at all.

"Bye," Hermione said absently, just before the door shut behind them.

The moment they were safely outside, Ginny burst out laughing. "What is wrong with them?" she asked, tucking her arm into Harry's. "I've never seen Hermione quite so… erm…"

"Open?" Harry suggested.

"That's one word for it," Ginny said, and sniggered. "They're a pair, aren't they? Ron's a complete mental case - I almost punched him in there, honestly. I can't imagine what you had to put up with in school."

Harry grinned and leaned on her as they walked up the road toward Lupin Lodge. The sky was dark and the moon was waning, and it was peaceful just to be with her, away from light and noise and fighting, away from dragons and prisons and Dementors. There was just Ginny, and the way she made him feel now that things were right again. He felt strong and whole. Far less exhausted. Like he could face anything. Like he really was Harry Potter.

"Are you tired?" she said, as they wandered to a stop in the front garden. She turned to him and softly brushed back his fringe as he took her waist in his hands. The apples of her cheeks were pale under the moon, and scattered with freckles, and her hair made a frame around her uplifted face. "Do you feel all right?" She laid the back of her hand to his forehead, and then to his cheek.

"Can't you tell?" Harry asked, surprised.

"If I want to," Ginny said. She dropped her hand to his shoulder and idly began to smooth his T-shirt. "But I don't want to pry."

"It's not prying," Harry said at once. "Honestly - I don't mind that you can just… tell things."

Ginny considered him for a moment. And then she closed her eyes and tilted up her chin, and a tiny crease appeared along her forehead. Harry wondered what she was feeling - whether she could tell how desperately he wanted to kiss her - whether she knew that he wished he could think of a good excuse to come upstairs and sleep beside her again.

"Oh, Harry," she murmured. "How do you even stay awake up there?"

She must have been feeling his day at Azkaban. "I don't know," he answered.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and there was worry written in her face. "You'll… think I'm horrible," she said. "But I have to tell you the truth."

Harry felt a stab of anxiety. "Yes?"

"It's just…" Ginny looked away. "I probably wouldn't agree to tell Ron anything if I didn't think it could help you," she said. "I know that's wrong."

Harry stared at her. "I'm… going to think you're horrible for that?" he asked.

"I'm not sticking to my word," Ginny said, looking even more distressed. She still wouldn't meet his eyes. "What kind of person does that make me? I just don't want you hurt, and I don't want you so tired, and if there's anything he can do, then I want him to do it. But it's not right to give in just because of that."

"You're not giving in," Harry said, holding her waist more tightly in his hands and trying to get her to turn to him. "There are plenty of reasons. First, like Ron said, it's illegal for you to keep life-threatening secrets. Second, he's going to get it out of you anyway - if you weren't paid, then that's an end to it."

"I know." Ginny shook her head. "But I would have held out until then, and I just… I can't like myself if I can't keep my word. It's weak."

"Stop. You're going to speak to Malfoy first, which is more than he deserves." Harry took her chin in one hand and made her look at him. She met his eyes with her worried brown ones, and nodded.

"I know."

"And it's not like you made the decision lightly. You're still worrying about it, listen to you."

Ginny smiled slightly. "I know."

"And…" Harry shrugged and ran his thumb along her cheek. "I don't know. I think it's all right to…" He couldn't quite look at her. "To help the people you love," he mumbled quickly.

It wasn't long before he felt Ginny's lips gliding softly along his jaw, toward his chin. "Okay," she said quietly, and kissed his mouth. The kiss was gentle and chaste, and followed by a wonderful, necessary hug - she slipped her arms around him and Harry held her close, amazed by how well she fitted against his body, and how at rest he felt with his head on her shoulder. They breathed together in the garden for a long time.

"You're exhausted," she said eventually, her voice muffled in his shoulder. "You should go to bed."

With you. Say I can stay with you. Harry felt it as hard as he could, and silently begged her to pick up on it. I need to stay with you…

Ginny's face grew hot beside his, and her fingers clenched on the back of his T-shirt. "H-Harry…" she faltered.

"Yeah?" he rasped, and went just as hot as she was. His voice was too obvious.

"Do you…" She swallowed, and he heard it in his head. "Do you want to… erm…"

He held tight to her and waited. Say it. Ask me. He wished that he could say it, but his bravery did not stretch that far. It had been so much easier the other night, when necessity had led him to her room and her incoherent pleas had kept him there. But Harry didn't know how to conjure another such moment out of thin air. A spell for that would have been useful.

"Stay?" It was one word, and very faint. But Ginny had spoken it, her hands sliding down his arms to grip his hands.

Every hair on Harry's body stood on end. "You -" his voice cracked and he buried his face in her shoulder. "You don't mind?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'll… always want you to stay," she whispered quickly, making Harry burn all over. "But you don't have pajamas and a toothbrush and -"

"I'll get them." Harry let go of her and pulled away to find that she was very pink, even in the darkness of the garden. It was somehow pleasing to know that she still blushed because of him. "I'll be right back."

"Come straight to my room," Ginny said. "Apparate in. I don't want Remus or Sirius to know that -"

"No, no, me neither." Harry couldn't imagine. "Just give me five minutes, all right?"

Ginny nodded. And then, before he could draw his wand, she abruptly took his face in her hands and gave him such an unbelievable kiss that he couldn't remember who he was. He could hardly keep his balance. He was reeling. She was brilliant. Brilliant. The thought of being without her for two months was so painful that he wasn't quite sure how he had just lived through it. He didn't even want to think about it. He just never wanted it to happen again.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed against his lips, when she had finished. "Harry…" Her fingers trailed down both sides of his face. She bumped her mouth to his again, just briefly - catching his bottom lip with hers and making him wonder if he was going to get any sleep at all. Perhaps this was a really bad idea - not that he was ever going to change his mind. He couldn't do much with his mind at the moment. It had spun out of control.

"Give me ten minutes?" she said. "I have to - to put on my nightdress and - and actually, can you give me twenty minutes?"

Harry nodded. He would have agreed to anything.

Ginny slipped away from him and disappeared into the house with a lingering look over her shoulder before Harry could even draw his wand. He stood staring at the door for a long time before he remembered himself and went home to get his things - and to let Ron and Hermione see him there, so that Ron wouldn't realize he was gone - and to very quietly tell Hermione, though he couldn't make eye contact while he did it, that perhaps she ought to stay the night at the Notch.

~*~

"That's it… that's it… one more step… oh, Leo, you made it!"

Penelope caught her son up in her arms, fell back in the sand and kissed him absolutely breathless. He could walk. He was amazing. There had never, in the history of man, been a more brilliant child than the one she held in her arms.

"Mama," he protested, and pushed against her with his fat little arms.

"No you don't," she said, and kissed his nose before burying her own nose in his soft fluff of flaming-red hair. He smelled like sea salt and baby powder and a thousand lovely things, and he was getting so big so fast. "You'll never get away from me. Never, never, never -" She nuzzled his head.

"Terrorizing my nephew again, I see." Bill Weasley thudded down beside her in the sand and held his arms out. Penelope put Leo into them without hesitation, and Bill held him out at arm's length, letting his baby legs dangle. "Getting tall, aren’t you?"

"Ba," said Leo wisely.

"Nine months," Penelope said proudly, as Bill began to swing Leo gently from side to side. "I can't believe he's walking."

"Percy walked at nine months." Bill looked at her and smiled. "I remember all the stuff he did as a baby - I was seven when he was born, and I thought he was fascinating. I remember when he sat up, and when he spoke his first real word."

"What was it?"

Bill laughed. "Wand. Only he said 'wan'. He used to try to grab Dad's whenever he could. Once he started crawling, Mum was afraid he'd get his hands on one and start using it."

Penelope could well imagine that. And somehow, coming from his eldest brother, comments about Percy were less painful than usual. She leaned back on her hands in the sand, and watched as Bill balanced Leo on his knees and began to bounce him. "I've seen all his baby photos," she said. "Leo really looks…"

"It's uncanny," Bill said, and stopped bouncing Leo for a moment to look at him. "It's wonderful."

"It is. Is it strange that I hope he wears glasses?"

It was a moment before Bill answered. "No, that's not strange," he finally said, his voice low and quiet. "I hope he does too." He kissed the top of Leo's head and then set him on his feet in the sand, between them. "Go and get your mummy," he said, and carefully let him go.

Penelope held out her hands, but Leo did not so much as grab her thumb as he toddled the three necessary steps toward her. He reached her body, fell against it, and laughed the high-pitched, darling laugh that belongs only to babies and very little children. "You're so sweet," she crooned, as she picked him up. "How's the spell coming?" she asked Bill. "I suppose I should go and see if Fleur needs anything."

"She's fine. Her team has everything under control. Culparrat should be secure within a week." Bill gazed across a stretch of rocky shoreline towards Culparrat. Fleur was impossible to miss even at this distance; she sat on a boulder with a map unrolled on her knee, her long, silvery hair fluttering in the salt breeze. "You don't have to stay, really," Bill went on. "You've done all you can, haven't you?"

Penelope shrugged. "I suppose. But it's lovely here, isn't it?"

"Not the roughest job situation I can think of," Bill agreed, looking around. "Reminds me a bit of Egypt, actually - all this sand."

"Though I imagine the temperature makes it hard to pretend."

Bill laughed. "Yeah," he said. "I miss the heat. I wish I could go back - I don't know that I'm particularly going to like France, but…" He looked again towards Fleur. "Did she tell you she got a position at Beauxbatons?"

"No!" Penelope fished a bottle out of Leo's bag and uncapped it. She fought to get him in the crook of her arm, but he didn't seem to be much in the mood - he really was getting big. "What will she be teaching?"

"Advanced Charms. Which is perfect, because Gabrielle's in third year, so they won't be in direct contact that way, but Fleur'll still get to be with her sister on a daily basis, which is what they both want."

Penelope glanced at him. "So you're giving up Egypt and England for that."

Bill half-smiled. "Oh yeah," he said quietly. "No question."

Penelope felt a terrible pang of jealous loss. She tilted up her face and caught the breeze. "Did Gabrielle ever explain how on earth she got to London?" She asked evenly after a moment, wrestling Leo into one arm and sticking the bottle into his mouth. The moment she did so, he went still and clamped both his sticky hands to the sides of the bottle.

Bill looked grim. "At first she claimed she couldn't remember anything, but now she's admitted to her parents that she charmed one of her captors," he said. "She would've been killed like the rest of them if it weren't for her veela blood. She turned on the smile, the magic - all of it - and instead of disposing of her, like he was supposed to, one of her captors took her to his home." Bill's mouth curled. "A grown man," he said in disgust. "Sick bastard."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04