The Lewis House 36 страница

There was complete silence in the courtroom. Ron could hear himself breathing; he was on the edge of his seat, hands clenched together. He had no idea what Sirius would say, how he would react. This was like watching a game of chess for the very first time.

When Sirius finally did speak, his voice was very even. “I would like to call in our first witness - Clifford Parkinson.”

Darla looked angry enough to break her chains without a wand. The guards floated in Clifford Parkinson, a tall, skinny man with a pug nose, already chained to a chair. When revived, he looked around in frightened befuddlement, and when he saw Darla his confusion seemed to grow.

The charges against Parkinson were fairly clear-cut. Sirius explained to everyone that Parkinson had been arrested during the war as one of the ringleaders in what had been known as the “Bonfire Night” incident. He and a friend had killed two Muggles by using a Switching Spell. The spell had placed the Muggles on the bonfire during Guy Fawke’s Night in place of the straw man that usually burned on the bonfire. Darla had been his defender and he had been released due to lack of evidence.

Sirius then turned to Parkinson and asked, “Mr. Parkinson, where were you the evening of November 5, 1996?”

Parkinson’s voice was quite high-pitched. “I was at home.”

“Were you?” asked Sirius, pacing. “Then how is it that you were arrested by members of the M.L.E.S. in Skipton, when your home, as I understand it, is in Birmingham?”

“I’ve already had a trial, Black,” spat Parkinson. He pointed at Darla. “She knows! She was my defender.”

“Mmmmm,” said Sirius. He turned to address Darla. “Did he tell you that he was at home that evening? Did he explain to you how he ended up so far from home?”

“My job,” said Darla, through gritted teeth, “was to defend my client. I was not on some sort of witch hunt. You –” she nodded her head toward Sirius, and then at the Judicial Council. “- you’re no better than the Muggles. You’re just out for blood.”

Sirius stared at her for what seemed like an eternity to Ron. He couldn’t help but remember the night that Sirius had dragged him through the Whomping Willow and into the Shrieking Shack during his third year at Hogwarts. Sirius had transformed from a dog into a human and he and Ron had just looked at each other. Ron had been on the receiving end of that stare, and he didn’t envy Darla Courtenay one bit.

~*~

Ginny sat cross-legged in her chair at the dinner table, ignoring her plate. For two days she had been utterly absorbed with Empathy in Sorcery: A Complete History and Guide, which now sat open in her lap. She devoured each word, her body still tingling from the effort of her first lesson in Healing. She'd spent the last three hours holding her palms over various plants in the back garden and recording what she'd sensed. The lesson had left her hungry and tired, but she was too geared up to notice. It had worked. She had felt things.

“Ginny,” Remus said gently, “take a break.”

She nodded absently and groped for her fork without looking up. “I'll eat, I'll eat,” she murmured, and stabbed something on her plate. Keeping her eyes on her book, she brought the food to her mouth, hardly even tasting it. The period which directly follows a Healer's discovery of his or her gift, she read, is generally a time of great energy and relief. Nebulous, yet overwhelming feelings which have always plagued the Healer finally have a name. Sensations which have been written off as “hypersensitivity” or “over imagination” are finally justified as real. A novice Healer may spend much of this discovery period in a state of incredible happiness; suddenly there is nothing “wrong” or “odd” about the extreme depth of feeling that he or she has always possessed. On the contrary, that depth is now recognized as a rare and useful tool, ready to be sharpened and exercised.

Ginny chewed slowly on the Brussels sprout she had inadvertently stuck in her mouth. She hated the things, but was too rapt to bother spitting it out. She grimaced, and swallowed. The recommended first subject of study for any Healer in training is not a fellow human being - though this will be most Healers' natural inclination. The newfound ability to help others must be resisted until the Healer has truly mastered his or her gift. New Healers should always begin work in the vegetable kingdom; plants are excellent practice targets and provide an enormous variety of auras on which Healers can hone their skills. This study ties into the study of Potions, at which Healers may find themselves suddenly and strangely skilled. Herbology and Potions, therefore, should comprise at least the first six months of Healer education.

Ginny frowned in disappointment. The feelings she had experienced while working with the plants had been thrilling - some good, some bad, but certainly thrilling - yet they had not been satisfying. She had harbored such an urge, the whole time, to put her hands near Remus and see what she could feel. She had an idea that she would know more about him, and about the werewolf, if she could only get him to stand still long enough.

“Six months on plants?” she muttered, turning the pages back quickly to see what the next course of study would be. Several chapters later she saw the title Care of Magical Creatures: The Second Tier of Study and groaned. “And then animals? I want to do people.”

There was a clink of metal on flatware, then a pause as Remus swallowed and cleared his throat. “Of course,” he said. “But you don't want to do damage to anyone - or to yourself. You said that some of the unhealthy trees made you ache, and that's to be expected, but you're going to have to build up a tolerance to other people's pain. It will serve you best to practice in degrees, starting with living things whose injuries and emotions are less complicated.”

Ginny pursed her lips at this answer, which was not the one she wanted, and stubbornly continued to read. Suddenly she understood how Hermione could always complete a long course of study in half the time that it would take any other student; Ginny knew in her bones that she would be ready to take on complex animals well before six months had passed. But she kept quiet, letting her eyes scan the page. The faster she learned, the faster she could convince Remus to let her move ahead.

A loud slam! of something hitting the floor and the scrape of two chairs being pulled back broke Ginny's concentration, and when someone nudged her in the side with an elbow, she elbowed back, quite hard. “Stop it, Ron,” she complained. “I'm trying to study.”

“How was your day, Ron?” Ron asked himself in a girlish voice, affecting a tone of great concern. “Did you learn much at court? Worried about your trial? Sorry to pester you, but as your only sister, I care about your life.”

A weary laugh from across the table told Ginny that Sirius had just Apparated home as well, but she ignored him, too. She wanted to read.

“Rude,” Ron said, yanking at one side of her book. “You're not supposed to read at the table.”

Ginny yanked back, and finally looked up to glare at her brother. “Who are you - Mum? Let go!”

Ron grinned and let go, but Ginny couldn't help noticing that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked troubled. He... felt troubled. Ginny was startled to realize that she could keenly feel his tension, with hardly any effort at all. She wondered if it had something to do with being related to him, and made a mental note to look that up. “Are you okay?” she asked, shutting her book and setting it on the table. Maybe he would let her practice on him. She concentrated as hard as she could on the energy that emanated from her brother, opening herself to it and attempting to work out what it was. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that Remus was watching her and frowning, but she pretended not to see him. “What's the matter?” she prodded, focusing on Ron.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh don't try asking now. You missed your chance.”

“Really, are you -”

“I'm fine.”

But he wasn't. He turned his eyes to the plate that Sirius had just flown over to him, mumbled his thanks, and started eating. Ginny glanced at Sirius, who was watching Ron with an eyebrow raised. She wondered what they had seen in court. Perhaps witnessing a trial had been a bad idea - perhaps it had made Ron more, not less, nervous about Malfoy's case against him.

“Who was it today?” Remus asked in a low voice, as Sirius served himself.

“Courtenay,” Sirius answered. He took a huge bite of chicken, and shook his head. “She's guilty,” he said thickly, “and I can't find a way to prove it. There's a way, but I'm not... I know it's right there, but I'm missing it.”

“You're tired,” Remus answered. “If you got some sleep -”

“Can't afford more sleep,” Sirius said irritably. “Ron, if you learned anything today, it should've made you feel much better. It's harder than hell to fairly convict anyone of anything.”

Ron didn't answer. His face was set in grim lines, and he continued to concentrate on his food.

Ginny elbowed him a little. “Ron,” she tried, but she snatched her arm away when his face darkened.

“Don't bother me right now,” he snapped.

She shot him a look. It was fine if he wanted to Apparate to the table with a big bang and interrupt her reading, but when she wanted to talk... Ginny sniffed. Brothers were so obnoxious.

“Where's Harry?” Sirius asked. “He's not back?”

Ginny forgot Ron's sudden change of mood and checked her watch. It was quarter-past six. Harry was supposed to have been finished with the dragons at six. He should have Apparated home from Azkaban by now. She couldn't believe it had taken her so long to notice.

“Not yet,” Remus answered.

“What's taking him so long?” Sirius demanded of no one in particular.

Ginny was glad that someone else was appropriately worried; she caught Sirius's eyes and shook her head. “I don't know,” she said.

“Should I go up and see if he -”

“Sirius. It's only been fifteen minutes. I imagine the dragon riders must have to wear protective robes, or gear of some kind - give Harry a chance to gather himself. I'm sure he's fine.”

Ginny and Sirius exchanged a look, but didn't protest. Sirius continued to eat. Ginny picked up her fork again, but worry and hunger clashed in her stomach and she couldn't make herself take a bite. While the other three silently ate their dinners, Ginny grew progressively more anxious, continuing to check her watch under the table until -

“SIRIUS!”

Ginny jumped and gasped. “Ron, scare everyone to death why don't you!”

Ron was halfway out of his chair, leaning across the table, suddenly and highly agitated. “That woman - Courtenay – she was a Ministry employee, right?”

Sirius looked almost annoyed. “Weren’t you listening today? She was a defender.”

Ron waved an impatient hand. He started to rap his fingers on the table. “There are files at the Ministry about each case that went through the Office of the Defender, right? I mean, that’s where you found all that information about Parkinson, right? There’s a big file about his arrest and the trial where she defended him, right?”

Ginny looked over at Sirius, who was chewing his pasty and looking disinterested.

“Do you know who brought him in? I mean, who in the M.L.E.S. arrested him? Is that in the files?”

“Yes, it’s all there.”

“Could we find out who was responsible for arresting other known Death Eaters and assigning Darla as their defender?”

Sirius dropped his pasty into his plate; it landed with a thud. “What are you saying, Ron?” he asked slowly.

“What if she is innocent, Sirius? What if she was being set up - controlled by her clients, one curse at a time? What if the person who orchestrated it works for the M.L.E.S.? Or in the Office of the Defender?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius looked as if he didn’t want to believe Ron. “They’ve all been checked. All of them. It’s a highly secure operation.”

Ginny stole a glance at Remus, who was quite pale. He reached out and touched Sirius on the forearm. “I think you should listen to him,” Remus said quietly. “He’s right. It’s the perfect bluff.”

There was a moment of silence. Ginny closed her eyes and could feel three distinct energy forces surrounding her – one excited, one worried, and one extremely frightened. The table shook as someone pushed away from it.

Sirius was on his feet. “I knew the solution was right in front of me,” he muttered, pulling his wand. Remus made a grab for the wand, but Sirius jerked away. “No, I know, I need sleep, but this is too important - I have to get this researched before we reconvene.”

“Wait a second.” Ron stood as well. “I don't have to work until five tomorrow night, I don't need sleep - I'll go.”

Sirius shook his head. “You won't have access to everything I need, and I'll have to read over the-”

“Damn it, Sirius.” Remus's protest was very quiet, but so intense that everyone stopped talking and looked at him. He very rarely swore, and Ginny felt a thrill at the dark look in his light eyes as he pinned Sirius with them. “Let Ron help if he wants to. You need it, and I can't.” There was something desperate in his voice.

Sirius's jaw tightened. He looked at Remus for a quiet moment, then gave a terse nod. “Ready, Ron?”

Ginny glanced at her brother; there were pink patches in his cheeks and his eyes were bright. He looked... proud. “Right,” Ron said, pulling his wand. “Do I need to bring anything?”

But before Sirius could answer, everyone at the table went still and looked up. Someone was walking around upstairs. Bed springs creaked, and there were two soft thuds, like the sound of shoes dropping to the floor. Ginny's heart swelled with relief. Harry hadn't been torched by one of Charlie's stupid dragons. He was home.

“We'll leave in a second,” Sirius muttered. "I want to see how he is." He went towards the kitchen door and Ron followed.

But Ginny pushed her chair back and darted in front of both of them; she raced through the front room to the stairs, and heard Remus's voice behind her; “Let them alone. You two should get started if you're going tonight.” Ginny silently thanked Remus, made a quick vow to herself that she would never turn in her homework late, and knocked on Harry's door.

“Harry? Is that you?”

“Yeah. Come in.”

Ginny pushed the door open and smiled so widely at Harry that she felt a little stupid, but she couldn't help it. The fear that he would get into danger and disappear had never quite worn off, and somehow, Ginny knew it never would. “You're okay,” she said, still smiling, and he smiled back from his seat on the bed. His shoulders were a little slumped, and he looked tired, but otherwise there didn't seem to be any injuries. A three-dimensional map hung suspended in midair in front of him. “What was it like?” she asked, peering at it curiously. “Or are you too tired to talk?”

“No.” Harry shifted sideways and touched the spot next to him, coloring as he did so.

Ginny walked around the map and sat beside him, blushing in answer. He wanted her there. He wanted her close. Their sides brushed and Ginny's thigh rested against Harry's, but for the first time, she felt no awkwardness. Harry picked up her hand and pushed his fingers between hers, and they were quiet together for several minutes; Ginny felt as if the chaos of dinner and the strange burden of Empathy were falling away from her, like giant stones tumbling down a hill. She watched the map - which she could now see was of Azkaban - letting her eyes follow the little Dementors as they slithered in and out of gaps in the walls. They looked like toys. She reached out her free hand and flicked at one, but her fingers passed right through the illusion.

“How was school?” Harry finally asked. He pointed his wand, and the map rolled up and flew into his bag.

“Fine.” Ginny thought about telling Harry what she was learning, but found she didn't want to. She hadn't discussed Empathy with anyone other than Remus. “How were things at Azkaban?”

Harry gave a short laugh. “I don't know what I was thinking, taking this job."

“I told you,” Ginny said, leaning her head on Harry's shoulder. “Are the dragons as big as you remember them?”

Harry snorted. “Bigger. But you won't believe which one I'm riding.”

Ginny pulled her legs onto the bed and tucked them to the side, nestling more closely against Harry. “Which one?”

“Did you ever know about Norbert?”

Ginny gasped. “Hagrid's Norbert?” She lifted her head and stared at Harry. “Of course I knew about him, Ron told me everything about your first year. Really - he's yours? But he's not a Welsh Green!”

“Norwegian Ridgeback.”

“Those are the kind that attack each other! Is he honestly tame enough to ride?” Ginny asked anxiously. “Are you sure?”

Harry nodded and switched her hand into his left one. Ginny shut her eyes, trying not to burst as Harry slipped his right arm around her and pulled her a bit closer. She let her head fall against his shoulder once more, and tucked her knees up a little tighter so that they overlapped with his leg. Their clasped hands rested on her knee, and Harry's fingers traveled up and down the outside of her other arm, making her shiver. “How many riders are there?” she asked quietly, when she found her voice again.

“Nine. Three on my shift.”

“Just three of you? Is that safe?” Ginny felt Harry's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“I don't know. None of it's safe, I guess.”

“Well, who are you riding with? Charlie and Mick?”

“No.” Harry shifted, and Ginny thought she could feel his body tense. He was uncomfortable. She squeezed his hand and waited. “Viktor Krum's one of my... I don't know, colleagues?” Harry laughed through his nose.

Ginny turned her head in surprise, then blushed to realize how close her mouth was to Harry's face. She did not, however, pull away. “Viktor Krum?” she repeated, feeling her voice reverberate between her mouth and his jaw. She felt a rush of power when Harry closed his eyes and his mouth fell slightly open. “Viktor Seeker Krum?”

“Yeah.” Harry brought his face a fraction closer to hers, as if waiting for her to speak again.

“He's giving up Quidditch to do this?”

“Guess so.”

“So you're not the only idiot, then.”

“Guess not.”

Ginny laughed, and affectionately touched her lips to Harry's cheek. He squeezed her arm and rested his head against hers. This was so natural. This was what she'd always known it would be like. “I'm glad you have a friend up there,” she murmured. “Who's the other rider?”

Harry tensed again, and Ginny felt a stab of apprehension. He muttered something she couldn't understand.

“Huh? I can't hear you.”

“Draco Malfoy.” Harry was gripping her hand rather too hard. “He's the other one on my shift.”

Ginny didn't move. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do first - scream, hit something, or get another Howler ready. “You're joking,” she said hopefully.

“I'm not.” Harry sounded resigned. “He got a letter because he was practicing with the Falcons, and I guess he doesn't much want to play Quidditch either.”

“Why?” Ginny sat up in despair and looked at Harry. “When has he ever done something difficult on purpose? Why would he pick dragon riding if he could buy himself a spot on the Falcons?”

“I don't know.” Harry let go of Ginny's hand and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“What - bothering Ron isn't good enough? Does he have to follow you everywhere? Can't you tell him to go and - oh, I don't know. Never mind. I'll tell Dad to sack him.”

Harry laughed, but the sound was weary. “You can't. No one else wants the job - Charlie says that's the only reason they took him in the first place. I just can't figure out why he wants to be there.” Harry scratched his head. “It's going to be hard work. We didn't ride today, but we'll start tomorrow, and Malfoy's already had his family's Chinese Fireball brought from home. He wants to ride a more dangerous dragon than everyone else, and I just don't get it. It's not like him.”

“He's up to something.”

“Well, yeah.” Harry smiled a little. “Familiar territory, at least,” he said, mostly to himself. His fingers had stopped moving on Ginny's arm, and he looked distant.

“Or,” Ginny said, trying to bring him back, “perhaps he's had a change of heart and he really wants to help. Perhaps Malfoy has become a selfless philanthropist, who secretly wants to be of service to the people that he's hurt.”

Harry stared at her in disbelief. “Huh?”

Ginny giggled. “Perhaps he just wants to be friends, Harry,” she continued. “Who knows? You two might really get along, if you'd just give him a chance. You're so judgmental.”

At this, Harry seemed to realize that she was joking. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Oh. Yeah, you're right. Maybe I'll bring him around for dinner.”

"Yes, do.” Ginny smiled, and leaned her head on his shoulder again, despising Malfoy, but not wanting to disrupt the entire conversation for his sake. It was too good, to be this close to Harry. And maybe it was better just to be here, than to get up and rant about the things that were unfair. Harry's hand resumed its slow motions on her arm, and, instead of taking her other hand again, he reached up and began idly playing with her hair. Ginny sighed and leaned her head back, forgetting that Malfoy existed. Harry was touching her. She'd had a dream like this, just last night - another nightmare about Tom, but at the end of it, Harry had shown up and touched her hair, like this, and then he'd bent his head...

Ginny opened her eyes, her mouth tingling, a sudden suspicion waking in her mind. “Harry,” she asked slowly, “were you in my room this morning?”

He blushed. His hand faltered on her hair.

“You were,” she said very quietly, turning her face so that her chin rested on his shoulder. Harry took his hand down and self-consciously cracked his knuckles against his leg. “Was I talking in my sleep?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Harry was so red that Ginny could feel the heat of it.

“Thank you for helping,” she said, and softly kissed his cheek again. She wanted him to turn his face - now - to look at her. “Hermione usually does.”

“Do you have those dreams a lot?” His voice was low and unsteady.

“Not anymore.” She touched her nose to his cheek. “Harry,” she said quietly. He needed to turn his face.

When he did, his eyes were unfocused, behind his glasses. His mouth was slightly open. Ginny met his gaze and then, before anything could be said - before anyone could interrupt - she slowly moved her chin towards his.

The contact with his lips was so gentle that it almost hurt. Ginny shut her eyes and remained motionless, memorizing. Harry. Her heart slowed; time itself seemed to have taken a long, quiet pause, just for the two of them. Harry moved his thumb on her arm, and then he let go - a second later, both his hands cupped her face. She made a soft sound that was only his, and slipped her arms around him; their mouths opened, but exploration was tentative and shallow. Ginny was afraid to move too much. She had a feeling that, at any moment, she was going to break apart.

Somehow the kiss ended, as gently as it had begun. Harry pulled her legs across his lap and put his arms around her, and she sat curled against his chest with her face in the shoulder of his robes, holding onto him and trying to breathe. His heart pounded and she could feel it, beating out of rhythm with her own. It lulled her, and she didn't try to fight it.

“I'm tired,” she mumbled, a long while later.

“Okay,” Harry said, into her hair. But he didn't move.

Ginny didn't want to move, either. She didn't want to leave. Instead, she leaned toward the pillows, bringing Harry with her. He came willingly, spooning against her once they were both lying down, and letting out a long, satisfied exhale.

“We can't stay here,” he said wistfully.

“Ron's out for awhile,” Ginny said, fitting back against him. “Helping Sirius in London... They'll be gone for hours...”

Harry's arm tightened around her; he found her hand and kept it tucked in his own. “Just for a minute, then,” he mumbled into her neck.

“Okay,” Ginny sighed, so much in love that even her bones were exhausted. She was fast asleep in seconds, cocooned in the safe warmth of Harry, who dropped a last, soft kiss on her neck just before she drifted out.

At some point, when it was much darker in the house, she woke up disoriented. She was in her own bed, she realized, which meant that Harry must have carried her there and tucked her in. Her heart throbbed. She turned over and looked at the wall that separated their rooms, wishing that he had crawled beneath her covers and stayed the night - now that she knew what it was like to curl up beside him, his absence left a terrible emptiness. Ginny felt the pang of a sob coming on. She rolled onto her stomach and cried quietly into her pillow, both from the ache of wanting Harry, and from the deeper ache of truly having him for the first time.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Without Restraint

~*~

A/N: Thanks to Mosey Posey, for having such good ideas in the car. Thanks to the beta readers, for being eagle-eyed. Thanks to everyone who's reading this and giving feedback, for all of your constructive criticism. Thanks to Melissa A, for the chapter title. Thanks to Circe, whose description of Neville's parents in "With Quill in Trembling Hand" (an awesome story) solidified our image of them. And special thanks to all those literary professionals who are involved in the eventual release of Book Five. We want you to know we're really impressed with your swiftness, your sympathy towards the vast and desperate mob of expectant HP fans, and your always-lucid and informational press releases.

You bunch of total @!?*&#$^&#$!!!

~*~

"Go ahead and mount him."

Harry heard Burke's voice, but he wasn't about to heed it. He couldn't breathe. He gripped his Firebolt until his knuckles went white and stared through his fireproof goggles at Norbert's enormous tail.

"Like we talked about," Burke continued calmly. "Just stay out of his peripheral vision - fly up slowly, approach from behind, and drop down into the harness. Then strap your broom down, and lock in. Harry. Harry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Harry said mechanically. "I'm fine."

"Bit slow on the uptake, Potter?" Draco Malfoy was fully strapped into his harness and he held Mordor's reins with perfect authority. He didn't even seem to need his trainer, who sat behind him in full gear, looking very pleased with his progress.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04