The Lewis House 31 страница

Delia's face was unreadable. "I am quite impressed," she said, “but it will take several months of training before you can reach a point where you can mentally force yourself to find ways of implementing new magic on a regular basis. We will begin your training tomorrow."

Delia directed Hermione back to the bedroom where she had changed clothes. She said goodnight and turned to walk down the hall, but Hermione suddenly remembered that she had promised to write to Ron as soon as she arrived.

Biting her lip, she cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me - Miss… Delia?” She felt awkward trying to ask the next question, but before she could say anything, Delia said, without turning back, “I’ll send my owl Maricela to you in a few minutes. You may use her to deliver any letters that are necessary.”

Hermione tried to remember if she’d read anything about the Thinkers having the ability to read minds, and then sat down at the desk by the window, pulling her bag of quills and parchment with her. Hesitating for a moment to collect her thoughts, she closed her eyes and allowed the warm island breeze to caress her face. For a moment, it felt as though Ron were there with her, and with a little sigh, Hermione decided that she would be nothing but honest. She would tell him exactly what she was thinking.

***

The wind on the small piece of land that served as the headquarters for the Permanent Azkaban Patrol was strong, even for early September. Bill could hear it whistling outside, and grunted in annoyance when his brother Charlie opened the door, and a huge blast of air entering behind him.

“Watch what you’re doing, will you?” he asked irritably, reaching forward to keep his parchment from flying off of the desk. “Next time, Apparate or something.”

“Who do you think I am?” asked Charlie, removing the Omnioculars from around his neck and placing them on the rack. “Percy? Normal wizards don’t bother to Apparate when point A and point B are five feet apart from each other.”

They’d been joking quite a bit about Percy over the last few weeks. Somehow, it made his absence less painful. Bill laughed. “You’re just afraid,” he accused Charlie, pointing a quill at him, “ever since you failed your first test….”

Charlie didn’t have a chance to respond, because just then, Mick opened the door and this time, Bill was unable to keep his papers from flying around the room.

“Oy!” he said, scrambling to retrieve his work, “you two are going to drive me mad.”

Charlie and Mick had been working round the clock over the past several weeks, trying to prepare for the implementation of the Permanent Azkaban Patrol. It had been a daunting task, and Bill was still amazed that two men who seemed outwardly to be so reckless and disorganized had managed to pull it off.

First, they had established several outposts on the islands surrounding Azkaban. The largest bit of land served as a holding pen for the nine dragons. The eight Welsh Greens that had been selected for this mission did not mind being housed so closely together, and the one Norwegian Ridgeback had always been an unusual case, and was actually quite attached to people, even if his way of showing affection was to blow fire in the direction of your face.

Already, close to sixty witches and wizards had arrived and were working day and night to feed and care for the dragons. Many of them had been dragon riders during the war, and, although unwilling to take on the dragon riding at Azkaban, they had been eager for a chance to work with the creatures on land. The entire staff lived in a rather makeshift dormitory on an isolated rock on the other side of Azkaban. A team of house-elves had been employed to cook and maintain the living quarters. Since the Patronus team was still operating day and night until the dragon riding schedule was in place, things were getting a bit crowded.

“What are you working on, anyway?” asked Charlie, moving to get a closer look at what Bill was writing. “Why are you inside, dry and warm, while we’re out there” - he jerked his thumb in the general direction of the door - “risking our lives.”

“Full of it today, aren’t you?” Bill asked, dipping his quill in the ink and not looking up. “I’m drafting a Ministry Summons to the professional Enchanter from Charismatics Spellcraft International so that he’ll come out to Azkaban before going on to Gringotts. Dad asked me to do it. He’s supposed to start in a few days, and we need him here first, don’t we? The Charismatics contact said that the charmer they’re sending had some experience in masking magical creatures.”

A crackling noise in the fireplace caused all three of them to turn their heads. A moment later, Rose K. Brown’s deceptively sweet face appeared.

Charlie backed away, as though he were at school and had forgotten to turn in a homework assignment; while Mick boldly approached and shot her what he probably thought was a winning smile.

“How may we help you today, Ms. Secretary Privy?” he asked. Bill thought that she stared at Mick for a bit longer than necessary, but she didn’t smile in return as she answered.

“Today was the deadline. Have you got all the riders or not?”

Mick checked his watch. “It’s only three in the afternoon,” he said. “We’ve got until midnight, haven’t we?”

Rose sighed so heavily that the flames visibly flickered away from her. “The PAP cannot go into effect without the riders.”

Charlie held up a hand. “We’ve got seven. I’ve heard back from someone this morning. He’ll be arriving in a few days – I’m surprised he agreed, he’s got a wife and young baby at home – but he says he wants to do it. He’s not British – we’ll have to ask Dad to sign a waiver to allow him to work on the project, but I don’t expect it to be much of a problem.”

“Who is it?” asked Bill curiously. “Is it one of the Quidditch players?”

“It is, and you’ll never guess who it is.” Charlie looked delighted with himself and raised his eyebrows at Bill.

“You’re right, I won’t, so why don’t you just tell me.”

Rose appeared to be looking down at something. She refused to take Charlie’s bait. “Yes, Charlie, please do tell us so that I can let your father know. I’ve got a meeting with him here at the Ministry in half an hour.”

“It’s Viktor Krum,” Charlie said, looking excited. “Viktor buggering Krum! Can you believe it? I mean, we saw him play at the Quidditch World Cup, remember? I saw him fight a dragon at the Triwizard Tournament. And now he’s coming here - ”

“Krum,” said Rose, appearing to be writing something down, although they could still only see her head. “How do you spell that? C-r-u-m-b?”

Mick rolled his eyes.

“K-r-u-m,” said Charlie, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” said Rose dismissively. “Let me know as soon as you hear from anyone else. I’ll give this information to Arthur in a moment. Is everything else under control?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Charlie. He groaned.

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is quite under control, but if you’d like to come out here this evening and change our na…” He stopped when Mick punched him in the arm.

“Everything’s okay, Rose,” Mick answered her in an uncharacteristically gentle tone.

Bill thought he saw a ghost of a smile cross Rose’s face, but she merely said, “Right,” in a very business-like tone, and with a pop, she disappeared from the fireplace.

Mick blinked and turned to Charlie, who looked as though he very much wanted to say something, but before he could, the door opened yet again. Sirius entered, shaking his wet hair out in a motion reminiscent of his Animagus alter-ego. This time, Bill had firm hold of his parchment.

Sirius looked drained, but his eyes burned with intensity. He’d come to Azkaban that morning on the pretense of looking over the setup for the Permanent Azkaban Patrol. Instead, he’d spent the day out on Charlie’s broomstick, circling Azkaban and watching the Dementors very, very closely. When Bill had gone out to check on him around noon, he’d been hovering in the air above the prison, just watching. It was almost as if he were trying to will them to disappear. Bill was relieved that Sirius had returned on his own, because he hadn’t been looking forward to the thought of flying out there and forcing Sirius to come back to Headquarters.

“How does everything look, Mr. Black?” asked Charlie, with a note of seriousness in his voice. Though many people were still frightened by Sirius Black, many others were full of awe and respect for him and what he’d done and what he’d been through. Along with Arthur Weasley, Sirius Black had led the Order of the Phoenix towards victory, and although some people chose not to acknowledge Black’s involvement, others were appropriately grateful.

Sirius nodded. “Looks like it’ll work,” he said gruffly. “Those … creatures … well, hopefully we won’t have to use the dragons for very long. There must be a way to destroy them entirely.”

“We’ll find a way, Sirius,” said Bill gently. “D’you mind looking over this directive before I send it? I want to make sure that it looks official.” He handed his parchment to Sirius, in hopes that it would give him something else to think about.

“Well,” said Mick, stretching, “it was nice to be here inside in the warmth, but I’m afraid I should head back out there again. Coming, Charlie?”

Charlie reached for his cloak and his Omnioculars in answer, and Mick opened the door to leave. He was nearly blinded by two owls, both of who raced into the building, as if they’d been waiting at the door, too shy to knock at the window.

“That’s Hedwig!” said Sirius, placing Bill’s letter back down on the table and reaching out to the snowy owl, which hooted happily and flew towards Sirius’s outstretched arm. He untied the letter from her leg, but before he could even look at it his attention was drawn, as was everyone else’s, to the second owl.

“Looks like it’s for you, Charlie,” said Bill with a smirk. The tawny owl in question was a regular postal owl, and it was carrying an enormous red envelope that had all of the markings of a Howler. And sure enough, try as he might to back away, the owl kept following him, and wouldn’t deliver the letter to anyone else in the room. “What’s wrong?” Bill asked. “Did you do something to upset your assistant?”

“No!” said Charlie, reaching with a shaking hand toward the letter. Bill really couldn’t blame him. They’d all, except for Percy and Ginny, managed to do something in their lives that had left them on the receiving end of a Howler from their mum. Charlie looked at Bill wild-eyed. “What could I have done to upset Mum?”

Bill shrugged, trying to look sympathetic. Even Charlie’s fire-breathing dragon tattoo couldn’t save him from the pain of a Howler. Placing his hands over his ears, Bill said calmly, “Go on then, be a man and open it. It’ll be worse if you don’t.”

Nodding, Charlie grabbed the bright red envelope quickly from the owl, and slit it open with trembling hands. A loud, piercing shriek filled the room. Bill stuffed his fingers more securely in his ears and Mick threw his cloak over his head. Sirius was watching unprotected, yet somewhat amused, and Charlie looked resigned to his fate, whatever it might be.

“…HOW COULD YOU CHARLIE, WHEN YOU KNEW HE’D SAY YES. HARRY HAS BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH ALREADY. HOW COULD YOU ASK HIM TO COME AND FLY ON YOUR DAMN STUPID DRAGONS AND FACE DEMENTORS. YOU GREAT BIG PRAT…”

Bill’s mouth fell open. Was that…? Could it possibly be…? “Ginny?” he shouted. Charlie just nodded mutely. Sirius had gone even more pale than usual, and was staring at the letter in his hand. He still hadn’t opened it, but Bill could now guess what it said.

“…DID YOU EVEN KNOW THAT HE WAS OFFERED THE POSITION OF SEEKER ON THE CHUDLEY CANNONS? HE TURNED IT DOWN BECAUSE HE THINKS HE CAN’T SAY NO TO ALL OF YOU! DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TO THINK BEFORE SENDING THAT LETTER? WAIT, WHO AM I TALKING TO? OF COURSE YOU DIDN’T THINK, YOU BIG DRAGON-LOVING IDIOT. I AM DISGUSTED. DISGUSTED. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY. NOTHING HAD BETTER HAPPEN TO HIM, OR ELSE… NO, YOU KNOW WHAT? NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO HIM, BECAUSE I’M COMING OUT THERE AS WELL. IF HARRY IS RIDING THE DRAGONS, THEN I’M GOING TO BE OUT THERE WATCHING. AND I’M GOING TO MAKE YOUR LIFE HELL CHARLES BEAUREGARD WEASLEY. YOU’VE DEALT WITH DRAGONS, BUT YOU HAVEN’T DEALT WITH ME.”

With that, the envelope transformed into a dragon, which promptly blew fire and burned itself up. The ashes drifted innocently to the floor.

Charlie looked too shocked to speak. Bill unplugged his ears. “Might as well have been from Mum,” he said, quite impressed. “Wonder where she gets it from?”

“Beauregard?” asked Mick, with a snort.

“It was our grandfather’s name,” Charlie answered testily.

Sirius held out the letter that Hedwig had delivered. When Charlie didn’t notice, Sirius walked over and placed it in his hand. “I guess we know what this is about now, don’t we?” he said gloomily.

“Sirius,” Charlie said hoarsely, cowering a bit under the grim stare that Sirius was directing at him, “I told him not to do it. I had to send the letter. Rose made me send them to everyone. But I told Harry not to do it.”

“Yeah, well, since when has he ever listened to anyone?”

“Dunno,” shrugged Charlie, opening the letter, reading it, and then stuffing it in his pocket. “I guess we know that Ginny’s still got a crush on Harry Potter though, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” replied Mick, “you Weasleys make a decision and stick to it, don’t you. Fiercely loyal…”

“Well, there’s no way that she’s coming out here to do anything,” said Bill, feeling protective, yet somewhat impressed with Ginny’s threats. “No way Mum and Dad will let her. She still has to finish school.”

“Why not let her come?” asked Mick innocently. “If Charlie’s bringing his girlfriend, why can’t Harry bring his?”

Bill wished for a moment that the Howler was still in the room – he could have compared its color to Charlie’s face. “Shut up,” he hissed at Mick. “She is not my girlfriend.”

“Who’s not your girlfriend?” Bill asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Am I the only adult in the room?” growled Sirius. “Charlie, I’m not happy about this either. But I know it wasn’t your fault, and quite frankly, Harry probably would have found his way out here without an invitation. Stupid, noble behavior is apparently a genetic trait. I’ve got to get back to Culparrat before I head home this evening, so if you’ll all excu – “

There was another rap at the door. They all sighed loudly.

“What now?” groaned Charlie. “That’d better be our ninth rider.”

Bill, being the oldest in a family of seven children, recognized the type of purple Express owl immediately. The letter it carried was equally as purple and as fluffy. This time, the owl headed for Bill; Charlie looked relieved. A moment later, their mother’s voice exploded into the air, but it wasn’t angry – rather, it was quite frantic.

“…Penny’s having the baby! It’s coming now! Hurry home, all of you! Hurry!!!”

The message repeated three more times, and then the envelope exploded into a fanfare of blue and pink ribbons. Charlie’s face had instantly grown a deathly white, and Bill could feel his own head growing light.

“The baby…” he said slowly, looking around the room. “Percy’s baby…”

“Go,” said Mick, shoving both of them towards the fireplace. “Use the Floo, it’s connected to the Burrow and I don’t think either one of you is in much of a state to Apparate right now. I’ll hold down the fort.”

For once, Bill didn’t think to make fun of him.

Chapter Twenty

Charms, and Other Subjects

~*~

Ginny woke early on her first day of lessons, wondering how on earth she was supposed to concentrate on school. It was so strange: she had done everything in her power to get out of spending a year at the Burrow, and she'd been looking forward to her lessons with Remus since he'd first offered to teach her, but today, the only place she wanted to be was home. She rolled over quickly and fumbled on her bedside table for the little Muggle photograph that she had taken the day before with Hermione's instant camera. She hadn't asked to use it, but there had been no time to owl Hermione for permission - and anyway, it had been a real emergency. Ginny grinned at the wrinkled, sleepy little face that sat still in the funny-looking photo, and began making little cooing noises. Percival Leander Weasley was the most gorgeous baby in the world, and a very proud Aunt Ginny studied his tiny features for a long time. She wondered if Remus would mind putting off classes for another day or two. She wanted to go back to Ottery-St. Catchpole and hold the baby again, he'd been so warm and soft and funny, and the whole family had been in a fit over him. Even Penelope had smiled and laughed, and it was the first time that Ginny had heard laughter from her sister-in-law since before the memorial service. Yesterday, it had almost seemed that Percy was just in the next room, so often had his name been mentioned.

Ginny got out of bed and dressed quickly, trying as she always did to shake off thoughts of Percy before they could overwhelm her. She tucked the photograph of Little Percy into the pocket of her old black work robes, tied her hair into a neat tail, and for the first time felt a bit anxious about her lessons. Although it was true that Remus had been informally instructing her most of the summer, he had insisted upon treating the official tutorials as though they were both back at Hogwarts. Ginny gathered her books and looked wistfully around the room, her eyes sweeping over the bed once occupied by Hermione, and wondered what it would have been like if Hogwarts were open this year. Although, after all that had happened, she wasn't sure if she could have handled a return to school. This was better than Hogwarts, she reminded herself, because Harry, Ron and Hermione would all have graduated anyway, and she would have felt alone without them.

Downstairs, Ginny was very surprised to see Remus, Sirius, Ron, and even Harry sitting around the table, eating breakfast. They all paused and looked up at her when she entered, and they were all dressed - except for Ron, who was still in his pajamas. His eyes were only half open, although he did attempt to say "Good morning!"

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously. Hands on her hips, she turned to Ron. "I thought you were staying over at home. Why are you awake?" He looked at her blankly, as though wondering the same thing himself, so she turned to Sirius instead. "Why aren't you at work already?" she demanded.

"There's gratitude for you," laughed Sirius.

Ron ran one large hand through his hair, making his head resemble a flaming porcupine, and sighed dramatically. "I climb out of bed at the crack of dawn -"

"Quarter to nine in the morning is not the crack of dawn," Ginny interrupted.

Ron continued; "- the crack of dawn, in order to make you feel loved on your first day of school, so you won't have to eat in the Great Hall all by yourself..."

"Oh," said Ginny, flattered, and she finally slid into a chair at the table and set her book bag down. "All right then." She picked up a piece of toast and began pulling the crusts off of it, then realized something. "Did you Apparate here like that?" she demanded, pointing to Ron's pajamas.

He looked down at himself. "What? I'm covered."

Ginny huffed. "Ron! You could get splinched, and then you'd be half naked, stuck somewhere with everyone staring at you."

Ron snorted. "You sound like Hermione," he muttered, and then let out a small, involuntary sigh, quite unlike the dramatic one he'd used earlier.

"She owled, didn't she?" Harry asked. "What'd she say? How's she doing?"

Ron's ears flushed slightly. "Yeah, she wrote," he said, looking uncomfortable. "She said... well, you know, it was mostly personal, but I could show you the part about..."

Harry swallowed a bite of cereal so quickly that he almost choked. "No, never mind," he said in a rush. "I'm sure she'll write to the rest of us."

Ginny watched as Sirius and Remus both hid their grins in their juice glasses. After a few minutes of everyone quietly munching away at their breakfasts, Remus pushed back his chair. "Now, if you all will excuse me," he said, "I have a few items to prepare before my pupil arrives." He shot Ginny a smile.

Sirius wiped his mouth and stood as well. "I'll come out with you, Moony," he said, grinning. "I've got to be off. Good luck at school, Ginny. Don't let the professors boss you, they're just a bunch of sad old codgers."

Ron and Harry sniggered, and Remus pursed his mouth at Sirius in a manner so like McGonagall's that Ginny had to laugh.

Ron left the table soon after, clearing the dishes away as he went, as if by habit. "That's a good barkeep," Harry harassed him, when he came back and ran a rag across the table with his wand. Ron flicked his wand sharply, making the rag fly up at Harry's face, but Harry caught it deftly before it could smack him, and sent it back into the kitchen. "Hey," he said suddenly, "are you still planning to look around later? Should we check the paper and all?"

Ron shrugged. "Probably."

"For what?" Ginny asked at once.

Ron ignored her question. "I'm going back to bed," he announced with a yawn, and left the room.

Ginny turned back to Harry, who was the only person that didn't seem to have anywhere to be. He watched Ron leave, then sat absentmindedly swirling his pumpkin juice around in the glass. "What's Ron looking for?" she asked him.

Harry shrugged. "A flat, I think."

"For him?"

"For both of us."

Ginny's heart sank, but she tried not to show it. "Sirius will miss you," she said lightly.

Harry set down his glass and looked keenly at her. He pushed up his glasses. "I wouldn't mind staying here," he said quietly. "But I think Ron wants to prove to your mum and dad that he can manage on his own. I think he wants to prove it to Hermione, as well."

Ginny felt a thrill course through her, as she did every time that she found herself having a real conversation with Harry. He was right about Ron, and she wasn't sure why, but his insight surprised her - possibly because he so rarely shared his insights. "Where's he going to look for a place?" she asked. "Far off, I imagine, if he's trying to prove something. London?" She hoped she sounded natural. The thought of Harry being out of reach - especially now that he was going to work at Azkaban- made her feel cold.

"No, I told him I want to stay close." Harry didn't take his eyes from hers. "I like it here, I don't want to live in the city."

"Here - you mean, you want to stay in Stagsden?"

"If we can find a place, then yeah. Stagsden."

"Good." The word was out before Ginny could help it. She blushed a little, but didn't want to be the first to look away, and Harry's gaze didn't falter. She found herself studying the color of his eyes behind the flash of his glasses.

"Nervous?" he asked, after a moment.

Ginny frowned, puzzled. "About?"

"School."

"Oh. Right." She grinned. "A little," she admitted. "I'm mostly afraid that Remus is going to regret offering to teach me." She laughed at herself.

Harry, however, looked serious. "You're going to know more than all of us soon. We didn't have an entirely proper education in our seventh year. I almost wish I could study again as well."

"So study with me," Ginny said rashly. "Write Charlie, tell him you take it all back, tell him you want to quit and go back to school. I'm sure Remus wouldn't mind another student, and you shouldn't be at Azkaban."

"Ginny..." Now Harry did look down at his plate. They hadn't discussed the dragon riding since she had announced her intention of joining him at Azkaban, if he went. There hadn't been time to talk; there had been Penny, and little Percy, and school to get ready for. It was time, Ginny realized, to finish the conversation.

"Please don't do it."

He flinched slightly, and did not look back up at her. "Come on, it won't be that bad," he tried.

"Not that bad?" Ginny fought to keep her voice down; she could feel it trying to rise. "Harry, it's an evil place. And those... things... are evil."

"I know. That's why somebody has to keep them there."

"Why does it have to be you?"

Harry looked up and smiled thinly. "I don't know." Absently, he pushed his fringe back, revealing his scar, and Ginny thought briefly that the answer to her question was right there, on his forehead. "I asked Dumbledore that, once," he said, almost to himself. "Fifth year."

"What was his answer?" Ginny asked, very quietly, but Harry only shook his head.

"You should be getting ready for class, shouldn't you?"

Ginny glanced up at the clock - nearly nine. She picked up her book bag and held it in her lap. "I meant what I said about coming up there," she said.

"I know," Harry replied. "I heard you talking to your dad about it yesterday and he said there's no chance in hell he'll ever allow you."

Ginny felt color flood into her cheeks. He'd been listening to her. "So what?" she countered, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. "I'll figure something out. Anyway, I'd like to see what it's all about, working with dragons."

Harry didn't answer. He just pointed to her pocket. "Something's falling out."

It was the little photograph of Leo. The twins had started calling the baby that almost as soon as he'd arrived. "It's sort of short for Leander," George had said, plucking him out of Fred's arms. "And he's our little lion, aren't you mate? Roar for Uncle George." "Practically guarantees him a spot in Gryffindor, too," Fred had teased, giving Penelope a peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't want him ending up in Ravenclaw with all the swotty prefects!" The whole family had taken to the nickname right away - it was easier than calling him "Percy", which would have been quite painful, and Penelope had seemed grateful to George for coming up with it.

Little Leo. Ginny looked at him, and everything else seemed to go away for a moment. His little eyes were scrunched in sleep and his tiny pink mouth was perfect. He even had the beginning wisps of fine red hair. "Just look," she said to Harry, holding out the picture with as much pride as she'd ever felt. "Isn't he lovely?"

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04