The Lewis House 57 страница

"Yep. Still absolutely crazy, you know her. Studying, as if she hasn't had enough school. She'll be home around Christmas." Ron sighed a little, then seemed to realize he'd done it out loud. His ears went pink and Eloise bit back a giggle.

"I'd love to do a story on her," said Eloise. "There's a lot of confusion about what Thinkers actually do. And a lot of people at the paper wonder what Hermione Granger is doing with herself."

"Okay. But listen, you're not really getting fired are you?"

"No," laughed Eloise, feeling silly for even suggesting it. "I was just being stupid. Don't worry."

Ron gave her a suspicious look, but whatever he said next was drowned out by the buzz of the crowd behind them; a mediwizard had stepped out of the stadium and was having a quiet word with the guard, who then stepped to the left of the door and opened it a crack.

"TEAMMATES! TEAMS ONLY!" he said, but the push of the crowd was too much for him. The door was instantly thrown open all the way and Eloise was carried through on the mob's momentum, vaguely aware that Colin was near and the Weasleys were just ahead.

The noise increased tenfold upon encountering the echoing path to the Cannons' area; with the popping, flashing and pounding of feet, Eloise felt as though she was trapped in a tidal wave. Ron and Ginny were still holding hands, and almost skidded to a stop in front of the medical wing; Eloise stayed as close as she could get to Ginny, and made sure Colin was right in step. They had no sooner reached the door to the wing when Oliver slipped out and crossed his arms over his burly chest.

"GET BACK!" he shouted, blocking the door with his body. "NO PRESS! TEAM MEMBERS ONLY! OH ALL RIGHT, YOU TOO," he conceded, flicking his eyes over the hopeful faces of the Weasleys. "YES, AND YOU, AND YOU, GO ON, QUICKLY NOW, GO-" He waved the redheaded group through, but just as Ginny was about to enter, a reporter from the Manchester Mage tried to duck under Oliver's arm, causing Oliver to step away just enough to pick the man up and throw him across the hall.

It was just enough of a distraction. Eloise saw Ron grab Colin's arm just before she felt herself pulled forward; Ginny had taken hold of her robes. "Come on. You're with me," she whispered, and steered Eloise right into the hospital ward.

"Ginny, thank you," Eloise breathed as they were shunted inside the cool, dark room, but Ginny was no longer next to her; she had run over to the beds, which were already surrounded by the brightly uniformed Cannons.

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off a chorus of disappointed groans. No one else would get in. Eloise thought she might laugh, she was so happy. Harry would talk to her. She had an exclusive. Leon was going to be so proud. Prattleby was going to have to shut his mouth, for once. And Flummery was going to die.

While the Cannons grouped around Harry, offering congratulations and replaying the game's final minutes, a female voice whimpered from the bed on the right. Oliver rushed over to it. Maureen Knight was trying to raise herself up on one elbow and failing miserably; each time she tried, she fell back to the bed and screwed up her face in pain. Her pallid skin contrasted sharply with the bruises that had bloomed around each eye, and she was shooting resentful glances at a cross-looking mediwizard looming above her.

"Sam, I'm fine, let me get up."

"I'll tell you when you're fine, Knight. Now down. Rest."

"How is she, Sam?" asked Oliver. He had put a hand next Knight's head, and was speaking softly for the first time Eloise had ever heard. "She's talking, she's up, so she can't be too bad, but how're her bones?"

"I'll be....fine..." said Knight, struggling to sit up again. "I'll be ready for our next game, I'll be back in practice tomorrow, I swear-"

"That's not what I meant, lunatic, and you're not practicing tomorrow," said Oliver. "Now lie down or I'll have Sam sedate you."

"Not fair," Knight muttered but Eloise could swear she saw her smile at Oliver. Eloise had to stop from smiling, herself. Now there was something she hadn't known about Maureen Knight.

"Still can't believe you caught it, Harry," a ruddy Firoza was saying.

"I didn't, you know," came a weak voice whose owner Eloise couldn't see. "I mean, it just went up my...it doesn't, you know, count."

"Oh it COUNTS," Oliver barked, making Knight jump.

Colin was on his tiptoes, trying to see over the head of the nearest Cannon for a look at Harry; Eloise just readied her quill and checked the time. Almost nine. She'd have an hour to write this story - this story - at most. She crossed her hands in front of her to try and stop them from shaking.

"Hey - what's that? - No press!" Harry protested, and Eloise could see why; Colin was edging his camera through the wall of Cannons in front of him.

"It's just me, Harry!" said Colin, sounding much younger than he had all night. "I won't take a picture if you'd rather."

Harry laughed softly. "Oh, hi, Colin. It's fine. Go ahead." Colin flashed instantly. "Where's Eloise?"

Eloise jumped. "Right here, Harry," she said, raising her arm so he could see. A few Cannons shifted so she could move forward, and she got her first glimpse at Harry; the whole right side of him was battered, and he was pale as death, but a small smiled curved at his mouth. "When you have a minute."

Harry nodded.

"We sneaked Colin and Eloise in with us," said Ginny, who stood against the wall nearest to Harry's head and looked as if she was fighting to keep herself away. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought since they're our friends-"

"No, it's good," said Harry.

Harry shut his eyes and winced, and Ginny instantly put her hands up, as if to touch him. But she seemed to check herself, and with a sidelong glance at Professor Lupin, she slid back into place along the wall. Eloise was just wondering what that was all about when Harry spoke again.

"How did you get here?" he said to Ginny.

"Floo powder," said Ginny. "Barely in time, too. There was a rush on tickets once people heard you were playing - we almost didn't get ours."

"We?" Harry opened his eyes. The Cannons had drifted over to Knight's bedside, leaving the room for the rest of the Weasleys to gather round. Harry's eyes widened in faint shock. "You all..."

"Wouldn't've missed it, Harry!" exclaimed Fred. "Oliver's still got you running suicide missions."

"At least he's consistent, eh, Harry?" laughed George.

"Bloody Boomer," growled Angelina. "They should just kick him out of the league. Full stop. All this suspension business - look what he did to Knight, and the dirty trick he played on you! Bastard. You all right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, and his eyes glistened in the lamplight. Eloise was slightly taken aback, and her heart ached, a little. She'd always known Harry to be nice, polite, standoffish in the way you'd expect a hero of his kind to be. But she'd never known he was so emotional, and so, well, sweet; he looked at his friends as if they had just brought him the greatest gift in the world, and all they had done was show up. But then, according to what Eloise knew of Harry's childhood, perhaps showing up was enough.

"You've certainly come up since your third year," Professor Lupin said dryly, stepping up to the bed. "Very nice playing, Harry."

Harry laughed. He managed a soft, "Thanks," before Sirius Black moved into view, his eyes shining like silver. Harry fell silent.

It was a long moment before anyone breathed. "You -" rasped Sirius, and shook his head wordlessly. Eloise had been taking swift notes throughout, but she heard the hitch in Sirius' voice, and rested her quill at her side.

"-are phenomenal. Your dad- "

Harry swallowed hard, as did Sirius.

"You have - no idea - when you were little we used to - float you around and joke that one day you'd - and you did."

Eloise couldn't move. Her eyes were cloudy again, and so were Harry's; he blinked several times and stared up at the ceiling; everyone, including Eloise, looked away. She had barely felt the soft pressure at her side before she realized Colin had closed his hand around hers.

Something whirred in the otherwise silent room, and Eloise looked up to see Ron holding out his left arm, a gold and silver ball beating its wings between his thumb and forefinger.

"I nicked it," he said, his voice hoarse. "So you could keep it."

"You keep it," Harry breathed.

"Okay," said Ron.

Ginny's hand gripped Ron's arm with what was very clearly considerable force.

Harry seemed incapable of speech; his eyes were bright and wet, and still full of wonder as he surveyed the crowd around his bed. Objectivity aside, Eloise couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude to the people who were making Harry Potter's life complete at last.

"Harry?" she choked out. "I won't interrupt if...if you need more time, but...if I had a few questions, would you...would you answer them?"

The look Harry gave her was almost relieved. He nodded. "Go ahead."

Tingles raced up Eloise's spine as Colin raised his camera.

"Great match, Harry," he whispered, then blinded them all with a flash.

"Thanks Colin," said Harry, using his uninjured arm to rub his eyes.

A harried mediwizard bustled past carrying bandages, and Eloise suddenly remembered her most important question. "One moment, Harry," she said, hurrying over to the surly man. "Excuse me? Excuse me - your name is Sam, right?"

Sam the mediwizard put his hands on his hips and stared at her impatiently. "That's me. And?"

"I just wanted to make sure - Harry and Ms. Knight are on painkillers, right?"

"Of course they are, with those injuries."

"Erm, right, so, are they okay to talk? I mean, I have some questions for them, but if their answers are going to be altered because of the pain-easing potions, it wouldn't be right to-" Eloise stopped. Sam was looking at her as if she had suddenly sprouted tentacles and burst into song. "I'm sorry, did I say something wrong, or insult you, or-"

"You want to know if talking to them would be ethical?" said Sam with strong disbelief in his voice.

"I've insulted you, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to imply-"

"No, no," Sam laughed, and his expression softened with respect. "You'll have to forgive me, Miss, but that's the first time I've been asked that question. What was your name?"

"Eloise Midgen, sir, from the Daily Prophet." "Well, I'm glad to see the Prophet stopped hiring those blasted Skeeters and Flummerys. Midgen. Have to remember that. To answer your question, no, I've only given them Allevium Draughts, which will not affect their speech or thought. They're strictly for pain. Ask 'em anything you want."

"Let's not get carried away, Sam," said Oliver.

"I look forward to reading your article, Miss Midgen," Sam said, holding out his hand for Eloise to shake.

"Thanks," muttered Eloise, shaking his hand. Colin was staring at her, point-blank, wearing an expression she'd never seen before. "Right, so, Harry," she said, nearly overheating with embarrassment. "That was a terrific match."

Eloise poised her quill on a fresh role of parchment and set the instrument to record, leaving her hands free. "Just transcribing, not Quick Quotes, I promise," she said, making Ginny laugh.

"I know, Eloise."

"Anyway, Harry, my biggest question is, how did that feel? To be out on the pitch again?"

Harry sighed heavily, and Eloise wondered if she had started too big.

"It was...wonderful," he finally managed. "I don't know, I mean I can't really describe for you...I haven't played a real game in a long time. And never at night, except for that one long one in sixth year. But even then...I'm sorry, this isn't really answering your question, is it?"

"It's fine, Harry, really. It's perfect. Just talk."

Harry looked abashed for a moment. "Okay. Well. It was sort of like, like being back at school."

"Yeah, with Oliver barking at you and everything!" shouted Fred.

Harry laughed. "Especially with Oliver there. He's very, er..."

"Watch it," Oliver warned. His hand was still on Knight's head, and he and the rest of the Cannons were watching the interview from their side of the room, making Eloise feel as if that Snitch Ron pinched had made its way into her stomach.

"He's very enthusiastic," Harry finished. "Definitely enthusiastic."

"That's one word for it," joked Fred.

"Stark raving madman is another," put in George.

"Do you feel Oliver's style has changed since school, Harry?" asked Eloise.

Harry laughed so hard he winced. "No. Not at all. He's...well, he's Oliver."

"Oliver, can you comment on that?"

"Yes I bloody well can. I treat my men-right, right, men and women," he added when Firoza coughed, "-like the professional ruddy athletes they are which is why we're undefeated."

"Yet, you didn't hug Harry when he caught the Snitch, although you've ambushed Ms. Knight after every game thus far. Can you tell me why that is?" asked Eloise, knowing perfectly well what the answer was.

Oliver dropped his hand from Knight's pillow and backed away, his mouth opening and closing on its own. Colin's camera flashed, and Oliver suddenly looked like a trapped animal. "That's - that's -" he stammered, "that's -"

"Oh, ho...ow..." said Harry, wincing from laughter again. "Oliver? That's fine. I don't feel bad that you didn't try to hug me. Honestly. It's okay to break that, er, tradition."

Maureen Knight looked as if she wanted to disappear into her pillow.

"Midgen, you can't say - you can't print -" stuttered Oliver.

"Don't worry, not tonight," said Eloise, letting a mischievous smile creep onto her face. "Not this time - but we'll talk soon?"

Oliver nodded fervently; Eloise got the idea he just wanted out of the conversation, and that was fine. She had to finish her Harry exclusive before moving on to her Wood exclusive, anyway.

"So, Harry," said Eloise, turning back. "You haven't played a game since school, but you have scrimmaged with the Cannons. Was this game what you expected playing professional Quidditch to be like?"

"I never really..." he answered slowly, and as he struggled for more words, he began to look tense.. "I never really expected it. I mean, I don't think I ever thought...I don't think I ever thought I'd play professional Quidditch. Even when I was trying out for the Cannons - I never really..." He looked over at Ginny.

"You never looked that far ahead," Ginny offered.

"Yeah." Harry relaxed. His eyes lingered on Ginny, and a half-smile touched his mouth. "That's it."

Eloise's quill was scratching away at top speed. "And you just happened to be at the game tonight?"

"Yeah - Ron has season tickets."

"Which she got for me," said Ron, pointing at Knight. Oliver looked down in surprise.

"That's right, Oliver," she said, grinning. "I'm responsible for getting Harry to the game. I did go to the School for the Sight, you know." She tapped her head with her hand. "Knew this was going to happen. All part of my plan."

Oliver rolled his eyes, and Eloise giggled.

"Did anyone else know you were second reserve, Harry?"

"No. I didn't think I'd ever have to play."

"And Oliver - how did you decide to put Harry in over your first reserve, who after all has been practicing with you all season?"

"DECIDE? There was no decide. He's Harry Potter. He's...the only one with the talent to fill Knight's place." Knight looked up at Oliver in shock. "What? I mean it."

The Cannons snickered wickedly in the background.

"That's right, you lot, go ahead, we'll see who'll be running the drills tomorrow," Oliver warned. The room went quiet.

Eloise turned back to Harry. "Can you tell me about the last few minutes before the game?"

"Sure." Harry shifted a little on his bed; Ginny quickly ran over and raised the top half so that Harry could sit partly upright, then gave Harry's good shoulder the briefest of touches before going back to her place next to Ron. Harry stirred at her touch and watched her as she walked away, a grateful look on his face.

"I only had a minute or two," he finally said. "They gave me a uniform and Oliver gave me a quick rundown of the competition. He warned me about the Kestrels' leprechaun gold tricks, but I don't think I really listened, obviously. Then he gave me one of his usual pep talks, and we went to the field."

"Any last minute advice?"

"A little," said Harry, looking sheepish.

"Oh, don't tell me," laughed George. "He told him to 'get it or die trying,' didn't you, Oliver? Oh, Eloise, I don't know if you knew - back in fourth year, Oliver here thought it'd be inspiring to tell Harry to get the Snitch or die trying - and Harry here is always so obliging-"

"Was that the match with the rogue Bludger?"

"Right in one," said George. "We told him what a stupid thing it was to say, but that's Oliver. 'Get it or die trying,' honestly. And then Harry here goes and almost dies-"

"But he got the Snitch!" laughed Angelina. "Harry always got the Snitch."

"Yeah, despite the raving lunatic advice of raving lunatic captains," said George.

"So what was the advice this time, Harry?" asked Eloise.

'It was, erm..." Harry glanced briefly at Oliver. "It was, 'Get it or die trying.' "

Eloise had to fight down a laugh as she watched everyone in the room turn to look blankly at Oliver.

"What?"

"You're joking," said Fred. "Oliver. Don't you learn, man?"

"What I learned is that that particular bit of advice has worked, twice now, and Harry did not die."

"Third time's a charm," muttered Ron. "Do us all a favor and don't play next time he says that, okay, Harry?"

"Okay," Harry laughed.

Harry was looking more relaxed than Eloise had ever seen him; perhaps it was time to start asking the real questions. If Ginny would let her. She took a deep breath.

"Harry, you..." she started, choosing her words carefully, "you've done a lot for the wizarding world." Ginny didn't seem angry. Harry inspected his bedcovers. Eloise plunged ahead. "People just expect great things from you at this point. Do you ever feel that pressure?"

Harry's eyes darkened, but only a little. He seemed to draw a breath into himself. "People expect...I don't know what people expect."

"What do you think they expect?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I just...I think they're just happy things are the way they are."

"Aren't you?" said Eloise gently.

"Yeah, of course I am," said Harry and his face clouded over. He didn't say anything else for a few seconds, and Eloise felt sure he was about to clam up for the rest of the interview. But he drew another ragged breath, and looked up again. "But I didn't do, you know...everything everyone says I did."

For a second, Eloise couldn't think of a thing to say. No one else seemed to be offering helpful hints, either; everyone was either looking at her or at Harry, wearing various levels of intrigue. Colin's camera was silent. They all knew what Harry had done. Harry seemed to be the only one who did not. "What do you think you did, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I think - I had a lot of help. I think - I have a lot of friends." He looked down at his hands.

"Family," Sirius corrected hoarsely.

Angelina gave a suspicious sniffle and settled into Fred's embrace. Ginny leaned against Ron's chest, a content look on her face; Ron slung a lanky arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Eloise thought she would burst into tears, but she bit it back. It was getting late. And Harry was loosening up. She had to keep going.

"H-Harry, that brings me to my next question. Your friends have certainly become your family. What do you think brought you to them?"

Harry leaned back on his pillows. "Your questions were easier this summer," he said weakly.

"Ah, but you didn't get to see the whole list."

"Right, Ginny, go scratch off all Eloise's questions," said Ron, but Ginny didn't laugh with the rest.

"I wouldn't," she said quietly.

"Harry, you know you can choose not to answer if you want, right?" asked Eloise. "Anything you say that you don't want me to use, I won't."

"Really?" Harry looked as if he'd never heard of a stranger thing than journalistic ethics. It would have made Eloise laugh if it weren't so sad.

"Really, Harry."

"But it's okay - I won't...after what you did for Ron...if you need me to answer questions, I will. Can you repeat the last one again?"

"Sure," said Eloise, in awe that one tiny, factual follow-up story had meant so much to the Weasleys. "What do you think brought you to the Weasleys?"

"Easy," said Harry, sitting up, suddenly very bright, "the hair. You really can't miss it, can you?"

"But honestly," said Harry soberly, when the giggles and jeers had died down. "I think it was just luck."

From across the room, Ginny gave Eloise an encouraging smile. Eloise smiled back, and as she asked her next question, and Harry answered even more candidly than he had before, everything else faded away; she settled in to have a nice long conversation, not even hearing the scratch of her quill as it set down material for what was quickly becoming the story of her life.

~*~

"DONE!"

Eloise slammed her parchment on Leon's desk.

"DONE, DONE, DONE!"

"Two minutes to spare," said Leon, laughing. "Sure you don't want to-"

"NO! It's DONE!"

"All right, all right."

"And Leon? I need a day off."

Leon raked his eyes over the parchment and let out a low whistle. "Midgen. You can have anything you want. Harry Potter really said all of this?"

"Every word. I had my wand record it, you can hear it if you like."

Leon waved impatiently. "Not to check - I just want to listen to it. Jesus, Midgen. Harry Potter, talking like this. What did you do, drug him?"

Eloise giggled. "No."

"But look," he said, tapping the parchment, "Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Oliver Wood, George Weasley, Maureen Knight, Sirius bloody BLACK. Midgen, were you a spy in the war?"

Eloise shook her head, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. "No. Not a spy, I promise."

"Well, anyway - here." Leon thrust the parchment into none other than John Prattleby's hands. Prattleby had been hovering annoyingly about, but for the first time, Eloise wasn't worried; she stood up straight and offered Prattleby as sweet a smile as she could muster.

"Thanks, John," she said. "Let me know if there's anything you need clarified." And she turned on her heel and walked briskly back to her desk, where Colin was waiting, legs and arms crossed as he leaned against the lip.

"You're done then?" he said.

"Just about. I should hang around, though - wait for Prattleby to do a nice hatchet job on my article. That's always great fun."

Colin snorted. "I'd like to see him try, on this story."

A warm feeling of contentment had spread so far through Eloise that she didn't even correct Colin's praise. Prattleby wasn't going to do much to the story. It was good. Very good. Her best yet, the best she'd get for quite a while. She couldn't believe it was written and done with; the interview ended a close to ten 'o' clock, leaving her exactly an hour to work. She and Colin had raced back to the newsroom as if their clothes were on fire, Eloise scribbling the entire time. Colin had run off to the darkroom so fast she didn't even see him go, and she had thrown her cloak to the side, spread her transcript and notes out on her desk, and had written like a woman possessed. No one had dared come near her while she was writing, not even Leon.

Now Eloise sat at her desk and rested her head on it, watching the newsroom traffic with tired eyes. The last minutes of production were under way, and as long as the day had been and as badly as Eloise needed sleep, she knew she wasn't going anywhere. She wanted a copy of her exclusive, and she wanted it before she left the office. There was an empty picture frame sitting in her flat, waiting for a story like this; it would be full before she went to bed. Maybe she'd act like a total loser and ask Harry to sign it.

"Hey, did you see Sweeney's piece on Knight?" asked Colin, softly nudging the top of her head.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04