The Lewis House 14 страница

"What if I asked Bill?"

Ginny turned slightly toward Harry, and studied his profile. "Would you do that?" she asked, in surprise. "You wouldn’t mind? He’d send you anything you asked for."

"I’ll do it first thing, when I get back from practice tomorrow."

Ginny looked at him, wondering how something so simple could make her so happy. "Thank you," she said softly.

Harry didn’t say anything. He removed his finger from the list of ingredients and dropped his hand to his side. A moment later, Ginny felt his fingers fumble for hers, until he was holding her hand.

They stood there together, Ginny barely breathing, staring down at the Wolfsbane recipe as though it was the most mesmerizing thing in the world. Her heart hammered frantically and she wondered what came next – what he would do – what it meant between them, now. This was deliberate, this was sure.

He cared for her.

"Alohomora!"

Ginny and Harry gasped simultaneously, unclasped their hands, and turned to see Hermione standing in the door, her wand halfway raised. She was staring at them, apparently rendered speechless; she stood frozen with her mouth hanging open, gaping into the room.

Harry reacted first. He strode to the door and blocked it. "You can’t come in," he said staunchly, putting his palms flat on either side of the door frame.

"Excuse me?" Hermione challenged, trying to push under his arm. "This is my room!"

"Not right now," Harry said, cutting her off her before she could get past. "In a minute."

Ginny snapped into action, knowing that Harry could only buy so much time. Frantically she stuffed The New Book of Highly Complicated and Very Likely Lethal Potions under her covers, then dashed back to the giant cauldron. She quickly floated it to sit on the floor between her wall and the bed, not wanting to move it across the room and into Hermione’s line of sight. But she still had to make it invisible.

"Harry!" she hissed. "I can’t remember the charm to make it - you know -"

"Make it WHAT?" Hermione demanded, so loudly that both Ginny and Harry said, "Shhh!"

Ron’s head appeared in the door. He looked easily over Harry’s head, and into the room. "What’ve you got there, Gin? Something secret?"

Ginny leapt in front of the cauldron and glared at him. "Get out, Ron!" she called hotly. Crookshanks jumped up on the bed and yowled helpfully in his direction, as well. "This isn’t your business! And shut up, everybody, you’re going to wake Remus and Sirius! Now give me one second in private to clean up my things!"

Ron smiled tauntingly at her, making no move to leave. He shrugged lazily, looked from Ginny to Harry and back again, and raised a meaningful eyebrow. "Oh, take your time," he said, grinning. "No rush. We’ll just switch for a bit. Hermione?"

"No - Ron, honestly, I want to see what she’s -"

But Ron had already dragged Hermione out of view and somehow effectively silenced her. A moment later, Ginny heard the door to the boys’ room slam shut.

Suddenly, the room felt very quiet. And suddenly Ginny was aware that it was, indeed, a bedroom, and that she was in it with Harry, who had just been holding her hand. She also became conscious of the breeze from the open window, which played on the skin of her arms and throat. She was wearing nothing but her nightdress. In the midst of discussing the potion, nothing like that had mattered. But when Harry turned away from the door and came back into the room again, Ginny felt exposed, and very unsure of herself.

He seemed to be thinking the same things. His eyes flickered to her nightdress, and then instantly away to the wall. He made a funny, throat-clearing noise.

Ginny reached for the dressing gown on her chair and put it on quickly, feeling hot all over. "I should clean up," she said faintly, and began to roll up the parchment that now held the recipe. She bound it, and put it in the cauldron with the other things.

Harry seemed determined to help as well, as if keeping occupied would keep embarrassment at bay. He gathered up all of the vials and bags which weren’t going to be useful, put them back in their box, and replaced it in the trunk. "Those two were in a better mood than I expected," he said abruptly, after several silent minutes.

"Oh? Were they in a fight?" Ginny asked immediately, wanting to sound normal and talk easily, the way they’d been doing before.

"No." Harry flew the cauldron into the closet and Charmed it quickly, rendering it invisible. "Malfoy dropped by the Snout’s Fair."

Ginny gaped at him. "What? Why didn’t you tell me that?"

"I forgot all about it."

"Oh," said Ginny, flattered by that statement. "Well, what did he do?"

"The usual routine. Insulted Hermione, insulted me, insulted Ron -"

"And lived to see another day?" Ginny asked doubtfully. "Has he gone mad or was he just drunk?"

"No, he had a big friend with him."

Ginny made a noise of disgust. "What a coward, honestly. His whole life is just going to be a misery. I can’t even get angry at him, anymore – not even for what the Death Eaters did to Percy. I want to hate him, but I just can’t."

"I know." Harry sighed, and pushed back his hair, revealing his scar for a brief second before his fringe fell over it again. Ginny involuntarily stopped what she was doing, to look at it. "Looks like we’re going to see more of him, though. He’s trying out for the Falcons and I think he’s bought his way right onto the team."

"He did not," Ginny breathed. "He’s not playing for Falmouth. Tell me that’s not true."

"Wish it wasn’t."

"Oh, I could just..." Ginny clenched her fists, then threw back her covers with a vengeance and snatched up the potions book from underneath them. "He can’t even play! Not like a professional – not like you."

Harry turned red.

"Well it’s true," Ginny said, too irritated to care what she was saying. "You’ve never bought your way onto anything. You’ve practiced just like everybody else..." She trailed off, realizing for the first time that Harry was still in his practices, and that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. "Harry! You have to be at the pitch in four and a half hours!" she exclaimed. "Although I don’t see why you have to go tomorrow, since it’s Saturday."

"I have to go both days, this weekend, to make up for the time I missed," Harry answered ruefully.

"That hardly seems right, does it?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms over the book and thinking that Oliver Wood could stand to calm down a little bit, where Quidditch was concerned.

"Oliver’s just trying to be fair to everyone else," Harry said. "I’ll be fine. I used to play on no sleep all the time." He moved to the door and glanced warily down the hall, as if unwilling to go to his own room, where he would risk interrupting Ron and Hermione.

"Want me to... break them up?" Ginny asked awkwardly, thinking it was strange to stand so close to Harry and think about what Ron and Hermione might be doing, in the next room.

"No, no – I’ll sleep on the couch."

"Harry, really..."

"It’s fine." He pulled Remus’s potions book out of Ginny’s arms. "Here, I’ll put this back."

"Are you sure? You have to put it sideways behind the leather books, on the third shelf down, by the desk. Maybe I should do it." She reached for the book, but Harry shook his head, and held onto it.

"I’ll go and figure it out."

But he didn’t go anywhere. Instead, he stood and looked at her for a long moment. He swallowed so hard that she could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. He took an audible breath.

And then, to Ginny’s great surprise, Harry leaned forward and very carefully kissed her cheek.

She shut her eyes and breathed in, smelling soap and grass, feeling the frame of his glasses touch her face as his mouth brushed her skin. She put out a hand for balance, and touched her fingertips to his arm, but it was over before it even began. Harry’s nose softly scraped her cheekbone as he pulled away, leaving a trail of electrified skin.

"Night, Ginny," he said hoarsely, and disappeared down the stairs without looking back.

Ginny stood in the doorway for a full five minutes, unable to grasp what had just happened. All of it. Harry had been here, with her. Helping her. Talking with her as if they’d always been companions, giving her confidence, protecting her secrets, holding her hand – kissing her cheek.

Dazedly, she made her way to her bed, put out the lights, and lay down on her back. She stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Harry had left a mark on her skin, where his lips had touched her. Her head and stomach aches were gone – perhaps because she had made so much progress on the potion. Her fingers remembered the deliberate grip of Harry’s hand. Next week, she would go to Remus and ask for his permission to continue making the Wolfsbane Potion. Harry believed she was capable of it.

Crookshanks purred deeply from the corner, and Ginny understood the cat’s sound of contentment. Feeling strangely as if Harry was lying there beside her, instead of sleeping downstairs on the couch, Ginny turned on her side, hugged her pillow, and quickly dropped off to sleep.

Chapter Twelve

~*~

Care of Magical Creatures

A/N: The Secretary Privy to Magical Matters and the Council of Magical Matters are straight from the imagination of Hallie, the Sugar Quill’s Head Girl and advisor on all things Parliamentary. Thank you! This chapter is dedicated to B Bennett, who likes to worry, but is usually right. We love her for it...

~*~

Remus felt a bit odd knocking on the door of his own study. But if he had learned anything in his years as a teacher, it was that when the students wanted to be taken seriously, they should be. Ginny had approached him in the garden earlier that day and asked if he would meet her in the study after dinner. She'd looked preoccupied and tired, and whatever she wanted, Remus knew that to her, at least, it was very important.

Besides, Ginny had been acting strangely around him all week and he was curious to find out why. His students had always been comfortable around him, and the same had been true with Ginny until recently. During the last two weeks, she’d seemed to be almost afraid of him, and he'd noticed that she had taken to spending a lot of time up in her room. He’d tried not to let it bother him, but it obviously had; he’d been relieved when she had come to talk to him – relieved that she didn’t fear him. He wondered if he would ever get over the insecurities of being a classified "beast". Even after years of acceptance by his Marauder fellows, he still doubted everyone else’s capacity for tolerance.

"Ginny?" he called, and knocked on the door once more. He wondered if perhaps she had put their appointment aside in lieu of something more exciting. She and Harry had been poring over a package that had arrived earlier in the afternoon, talking in very low voices, and Remus hadn’t been able to help noticing how close they had been sitting. Nor had he missed the look on Ginny’s face when Harry had shot her a smile on his way out the door to visit Ron at the pub. It had been a trusting, encouraging sort of smile. It had reminded Remus very much of James, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had caused Ginny to forget their meeting.

But the appointment hadn’t been forgotten. Remus nearly jumped backwards as the study door was flung open. Ginny stood in the middle of the doorway, blocking his view of the room. She wore her black school robes with the sleeves rolled up, as if she had come ready to work, and her hair was pulled out of her face, giving her an air of professionalism. Her face was flushed. When she spoke, it was with serious urgency, though her voice shook.

"Can you sit down?" she asked. She stepped aside and let him in. "Would you mind sitting down? This will take a few minutes – I have a lot to show you and you’re probably not going to like it."

Remus was startled, but he tried not to betray it as he took a seat, wondering what on earth she could possibly have to show him, and hoping that she was quite all right. He looked up at her, questioningly.

"Okay," she said, almost to herself. "I can do this – and Remus, please – no, never mind. Okay."

She was behaving very oddly. Feeling concerned now, as well as curious, Remus watched narrowly as Ginny raised her wand and brought out, from behind the study desk, an enormous cauldron. It was full to the brim with what looked to be potion ingredients, and though Remus could identify very few of them without actually examining them closely, he knew that she must be making something very complicated. He pulled his brows together, wondering if she was going to enlist his help on some sort of project. He thought wryly that he ought to inform her that he hadn’t been much of a success in Potions, but decided to wait and hear her out.

"What’s all this?" he asked, as neutrally as he could.

Ginny didn’t answer for a moment. She searched his face, and as she did so, Remus noticed that her skin was terribly pale, and almost clammy. She looked ill. He eyed the cauldron with new worry. Maybe she was attempting to make a medicinal potion of some kind – maybe she was sick. What would he tell Arthur?

Before he could ask her what the matter was, Ginny held out her hands to stop him from talking. She drew an enormous, audible breath, clasped her fingers together and unclasped them again, looking feverishly overexcited.

"I know you’re going to tell me this is none of my business," she began, in a rush, "and you’re right, it isn’t. But I can’t help it, I’ve been working on this for weeks and I can’t stop – I feel sick if I don’t work on it – please don’t be angry with me, when I tell you." She stopped for another breath and looked at him, as if afraid to continue.

Remus was now on alert. He moved to the edge of his seat, nearing the end of his patience. Was she doing something illegal? Was she in some kind of trouble?

"Ginny," he asked gravely, "what’s happening? Whatever it is, you need to tell me."

She nodded and swallowed, hard. Then she pulled a piece of rolled up parchment out of her pocket and handed it to him, then stepped well back and watched him, her eyes bright and almost defiant. She looked like she might come out of her skin if he didn’t read the parchment right away, and so Remus unrolled it, feeling terribly anxious and having absolutely no idea what to expect. He braced himself for the worst, held the scroll open with both hands, and glanced down at its title.

Wolfsbane Potion

Recipe and Brewing Instructions

Tension rose up immediately in his blood, and Remus gave a dry, rasping sort of breath as he scanned the recipe, looking at the all-too-familiar list of sickening ingredients. Sheep’s brains, to effect a docile state. Scales of the middle head of a Runespoor, to induce a dreamlike stupor. Wolfsbane, to poison him just enough that he would be too weak to claw and snarl. Shredded human skin, to satiate the wolf’s terrible craving for flesh.

Remus shuddered, hating himself again, for reasons he would never be able to control. He continued to stare at the parchment, not really seeing it, remembering dimly that Ginny Weasley had handed it to him. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would write out such a thing and he found that he didn’t want to look up at her. It was one thing for Ginny to ask him about being a werewolf. Her curiosity was natural and inoffensive. It was entirely another for her to involve herself in the intimacies of the processes he was forced to go through. This was not an experience he wished to share, in all its morbid details. Only his most trusted friends had ever been near him, at his terrible moments of transformation. Only Sirius was allowed to broach this subject with him now.

"Why..." he began, forcing himself to look up, though he wasn’t sure what to say. He was too unsettled to make sense of his thoughts, which were somewhere between anger and self-disgust. "Where did you..."

"I got it from your book," Ginny confessed, looking very guilty. "The silver one you keep hidden behind your dad’s old classics. I went through your things. I’m so sorry, Remus, I know I should’ve asked, but I was afraid you’d tell me I wasn’t allowed near it, and I had to find out about this recipe – I’ve been feeling very strange things whenever you come around me, and I think it’s because you’re a werewolf."

Remus flinched, and Ginny shook her head quickly, her eyes wide.

"No! I don’t mean it in a bad way – I don't care about that, I'm not afraid of you, but I think... I think I feel what you're feeling." She looked to be casting around for words. "I... don't know how to explain it. I don’t know how I know. But my blood feels like it’s moving faster. The full moon's in two weeks and I swear, this gets worse as we get nearer to it."

Attempting to stay calm and organize his thoughts, Remus put his hands on the arms of his chair, and held on. "What gets worse?" he asked faintly, positive that his fears were irrational but unable to get rid of them, nonetheless. He remembered the first full moon’s approach, after he had been bitten. He’d only been a child. There had been an agitated sickness, a sweaty and frightened anticipation, and a physical sensation in every pore as if the tides were turning his blood over in his veins. It had approached without mercy, and he had been unable to stop it. His parents had tried to explain to him what was coming; they had understood what the bite-marks meant and had worked to prepare him. Even now, Remus wanted to laugh at the futility of their efforts. The wolf still came every month, and each time, he was still caught entirely unprepared.

Ginny couldn’t possibly be experiencing that. He wouldn’t allow it, and in any case, they would have known if she’d been bitten.

She was safe from that hell. Still, she looked confused, and frustrated, as she attempted to answer his question.

"My stomach feels jumpy. My... skin. It's like, you come in to a room, and I feel all agitated. I can tell if you’ve come in, even if I don’t hear you. It’s the weirdest... And I didn't know why, but then suddenly last week I found myself digging through Hermione's books, looking for the Wolfsbane Potion recipe, and as soon as I looked for it, I felt better. It calmed me down. So I kept working. I just knew I had to keep working, and I can’t explain it any better than that. It’s like... remember the way I knew those seeds were dead?" Ginny clapped her hands together. "It’s exactly like that! I just – know."

Remus looked at her sharply, remembering full well the way in which she had separated the dead seeds from the live ones in the garden. He’d thought, at that moment, that she might be exhibiting signs of a very rare magic. Her sudden drive to work with medicinal potions was certainly another possible sign... but he shook off the thought as quickly as he could. She wasn’t exhibiting anything. It was far more likely that she was merely coping with the end of the war and the death of her brother. Everyone was dealing with the aftermath in personal ways, and if Ginny was choosing to throw herself into complicated recipes and forbidden books, then that was perfectly understandable. Remus admitted to himself that it didn’t seem terribly like Ginny – but then perhaps he didn’t know her very well.

"So you looked until you found the recipe?" he prompted, watching her carefully.

"Yes, and when I found it, I started gathering up what I needed. It’s taken me awhile, but now I’ve got everything," she declared, a note of pride creeping into her voice.

Remus blinked. "What do you mean, you’ve got everything?" He felt an odd fear nagging at his brain, and he refused to fully comprehend what she was saying. She couldn’t actually be considering... because that was unacceptable. "Everything for what?"

"The Wolfsbane Potion." Ginny said matter-of-factly. She seemed less nervous, now, as she turned to the cauldron and began to unload it, bit by bit, onto the great desk. "I have all the ingredients – well, except for two, but those are perishable."

"All?" Remus had a hard time imagining where she might have got her hands on some of the necessary items.

She looked at him confidently. "All," she affirmed, and proceeded to list the ingredients from beginning to end. Then, gesturing to the parchment that Remus still had pinned under his hand, she began to talk about the brewing process with calm authority.

Remus listened without interruption, his trepidation growing with every word she spoke, though everything out of her mouth was very right. She had clearly done her research; her knowledge of the potion was quite complete, and she must have gone to great lengths to acquire both the information and the materials.

"I’ve read everything I can get my hands on," she said, in closing, "about the advanced methods of ingredient preparation and advanced techniques for long term potion brewing, since this one’s on the fire for a week before it’s ready. And my brother sent me the rare ingredients from Knockturn Alley, just today. As soon as I prepare those, I’ll be completely set up." She looked at him pleadingly, keeping her hands clasped together in front of her. "So... I’d have to start tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow," Remus repeated blankly. He shook his head, still unwilling to make sense of her intentions. "But you don’t want to make the Wolfsbane Potion, Ginny." Even as he said it, he knew that he was wrong, and he gripped the arms of his chair again. From beneath his right hand came the sound of crumpling parchment, but neither he nor Ginny paid any attention to the recipe. Their eyes locked.

"Yes I do," she said quietly, and in her face was a determination Remus recognized. She had looked very much like this on the day that they’d built the Sacrificum Charm in Harry. "I need to try. Please let me – please say that I can have permission to make it."

There was a long silence between them while Remus tried to think of what to say. Normally, he would have hated to disappoint a student, but this was different. She wasn’t his student, any longer, and he couldn’t allow her to administer a self-made Wolfsbane Potion – at best, she would fail and at worst, she’d poison him. Still, she looked desperate for him to say yes – quite as if this was her life or death moment, not his.

But it was simply too high a risk, for both of them. He couldn’t let her do it, and he opened his mouth to tell her so.

"You have my permission," he heard himself say.

Ginny jumped and put a hand to her mouth. "R– really?" she whispered, through her fingers. "Remus, are you sure?"

His mind raced. Was he insane? He was resigning himself to an evening of anguish for the first time in months – transforming into the full-fledged wolf was nothing short of pure hell. Transforming with the aid of the potion was bad enough. It was always bad enough, just knowing that he harbored a sick desire to murder, in some secret, locked-up part of himself. He never again wanted his mind to run mad, at the full moon. It was hard to explain it to regular people, but each time the wolf took him over, it tore out a part of his soul. Intellectually he understood that he was not to blame for the wolf’s urges; in his body, however, and in the darkest parts of his mind, Remus knew what he truly was. He knew – and he had no desire to live the proof of it ever again. Since the discovery of the Wolfsbane Potion, he had promised himself that he would go to any lengths to obtain it, in order to preserve his own sanity. He had trusted Snape when there was no one else to trust. He now endured the humiliation of the apothecary’s habitat and though it made him feel like an animal, at least he was spared the grief of feeling like a killer.

"Remus?" Ginny repeated softly.

He had forgotten she was there, standing before him, waiting for reconfirmation. He looked up and silently studied her, still thinking. If an inexperienced witch like Ginny brewed the potion, he knew that the odds were slim to none that it would be successful. He would be hungry, again. He would be enraged. He would have to be locked in the shed, and he would tear at his own flesh, if he couldn’t get to any other prey. Not to mention that Sirius was going to kill him, when he found out what a foolish risk he was taking. It was lunacy, to take on so much pain, yet his instincts told him to trust her. He blamed it on his willingness to go too far, as a teacher – Ginny had been his student, and now he had the chance to guide her through a unique opportunity. She was showing an interest, and she ought to be encouraged.

"Yes. I’m sure," he finally answered, and though he congratulated himself on being a very liberal professor, Remus knew deep down that this had nothing to do with his teacher’s principles. He had an unfounded faith in Ginny’s ability, which he could not rationalize.

She was staring down at him, apparently still unable to believe what he was saying.

"You said you’d have to start tomorrow?" he asked. He rolled up the recipe parchment and handed it back to her, then gestured to the ingredients on the desk. "What are you still missing?"

Ginny seemed to jerk awake. "I have to go into the village, in the morning, for the wolf’s blood and sheep’s brain." Her voice shook, and Remus wondered if perhaps the gravity of what she had decided to do was catching up with her. She looked at once relieved and frightened.

Remus nodded. "I want you to use the fireplace in here," he instructed. "We need to keep the front room fireplace open for travel and contact, and the kitchen fire is not only too small, but it’s considered very unsafe –"

"To brew medicinal potions openly, in areas where they can contaminate food. I know." Ginny smiled slightly. "Told you I’ve been doing my reading."

"Yes." Remus smiled back at her, briefly, feeling unaccountably hopeful. He wanted her to succeed. He didn’t care if it was irrational and unlikely – he very much wanted this to work. He stood up. "I’ll give you your privacy, if you like. You’re welcome to prepare your materials on the desk, though you’ll have to do a Sanitation Charm first."

"I’ll need to grab my tools. They’re upstairs." Ginny was still staring at him. "You’re really going to let me do this," she said, obviously stunned. "Harry said you would. He said you were that kind of person, and I know you let him learn the Patronus a bit early – and you were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had – but I wasn’t sure...."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04