The Lewis House 62 страница

"Well that's quite a compliment," said Hermione, holding out her hand and resisting a desire to laugh. "Thank you."

Max looked astounded that she had taken the information without offense. He reached out and shook her offered hand. "You're okay," he admitted, and then grabbed onto the handle of one of the trunks and started heaving it towards the other room. Ron quickly muttered a Levitation Charm and the trunk lifted off the ground, although Max continued to exert effort, as if struggling under the weight.

"Do you need any help?" Hermione asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, no, dear, I'm almost done," she answered. "Besides, Ginny has been in here all morning and we've made quite good progress. Why don't you go in the other room and see everyone? I'm sure you want to see the baby - just take this tray in for me, will you?" Mrs. Weasley shoved a tray of mince pies into Hermione's hands, and ushered her into the other room.

Hermione had spent many Christmases at Hogwarts and, although the decorations there had been splendid, they had not been concentrated into one small room as they were at the Burrow. An enormous tree stood in a corner of the room. The ceiling had been magically lifted to accommodate it and sloped at a very strange angle. Bill and Charlie stood around the tree helping Ron and Max empty the trunks of gifts, and Mr. Weasley sat in a very big chair in the corner opposite the tree, swirling a short glass of firewhiskey in his hand and talking animatedly to Sirius and Remus. It took Hermione's eyes a moment to adjust to the brilliant, warm glow of the room and, when she turned to her right, she saw Penelope sitting in a rocking chair, cradling a small, redheaded bundle. To Hermione's surprise, Cho Chang, with hair much shorter than Hermione remembered, was crouched on the floor next to them, tickling the baby's tiny toes. Cho looked up and waved Hermione over, and Hermione remembered Harry telling her that Cho was one of the dragon riders at Azkaban.

"Hello!" said Hermione, putting down the tray of pies. She gave Penelope a warm hug, nodded to Cho, and knelt on the other side of the rocking chair to get a real look at Leo. "Oh, Penny," she breathed, amazed. "He's beautiful."

Penelope blushed in appreciation and muttered, "Thanks. Would you like to hold him?"

"Can I? I mean, are you sure? I don't know, he looks very comfortable with you - " But a moment later, Penelope had changed places with Hermione, and placed Leo in her arms. Hermione bent her face and softly kissed the baby. He was warm and sweet. "Oh, he smells lovely," she cooed, making a face at him. Leo responded with a short, toothless laugh and Hermione looked up, delighted, to find that Ron stood motionless by the tree, a small gift dangling in his hand, watching her. He looked away at once, and her heart thudded.

"He likes you," said Penelope, gently tickling Leo's tummy. "He's bored with us. We've been reminiscing about Ravenclaw and wondering if my genes are strong enough to influence which house he'll be in. I can't imagine a Weasley not in Gryffindor, but only time will tell."

Hermione smiled. "You know, I always thought I would have made a good Ravenclaw - but I was happy when the Sorting Hat chose me for Gryffindor. I think it was the best place for me."

"I expect you would've done well in Ravenclaw as well," said Cho. "Penelope was telling me all about your apprenticeship and it sounds so exciting."

"Yes," agreed Penelope, "and I'm hoping to utilize your skills after Christmas. I can't seem to manage this Imprisonment Charm and there's pressure from everyone to hurry up. I'll ask Arthur to let me hire an assistant if you need a job straight away."

"Oh! I do actually, yes. I hope I can help," Hermione said, and bit her tongue before she could say anything self-deprecating about her Thinking skills. Or lack thereof. "How are the dragons?" Hermione asked Cho, for a change of subject. Cho didn't look nearly as tired or worn as Harry did, but there were lines around her eyes. "How are you holding up? That schedule is dreadful - I was telling Harry the other day that you need more riders, and he said you might have a few people interested?"

"A few?" Cho laughed. "Once people realized that Viktor Krum and Harry Potter are up at Azkaban, they started applying in droves. Trouble is, none of them have been able to pass Charlie's tests."

"Tests?" Hermione repeated, as a vision of the first task in the Triwizard Tournament flashed in her brain. She hugged Leo a bit closer.

"Flight tests first, on broomsticks." She rolled her eyes. "Quidditch drills. Not that he's wrong to do it, it's a safe way to weed people out, but he's so manic about Quidditch that the applicants tend to get confused. They keep asking me if these are the Wanderers' workouts and they've accidentally come to the wrong place."

Penelope laughed. "I think Percy was the only Weasley boy who escaped that obsession." She tickled Leo again. "Though if his uncles have anything to say about it, Leo won't go much longer without a proper broomstick."

"He's four months old!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Try telling that to Fred. He took Leo up on his broom a few weeks ago, while I was in the shower. I nearly killed him."

"Insane! Did you tell Angelina?"

"Oh yes. But go on Cho, I'm sorry. The other tests?"

"Right, well - about twenty-five percent of the applicants pass the flying tests."

"That few?" Hermione asked anxiously. Harry was never going to get a break if they were so exclusive. She couldn't believe that he was up there right now, in the cold, while the rest of them enjoyed Christmas. It made her feel terribly guilty; things never seemed to end for him.

"Well, keep in mind that most of the people who show up don't really want to do the work." Cho snorted. "Autograph hounds, Quidditch fans -" She lowered her voice. "Even a couple of girls who claim to be in love with Harry. They swear he'd marry them if he'd only meet them for a second."

"Pardon?" Ginny demanded. She was standing beside them, holding a plate of cookies and looking more exhausted than Cho did. Hermione had spent the last two days brushing up on what she knew about Healers, and she wondered what Ginny was feeling, to make her look so gray. Something must be draining her; she'd been fine at Lupin Lodge last night.

"Don't worry, Ginny," Cho said soothingly. "We sent them away and threatened to fine them for false misrepresentation if they applied again."

Ginny smirked, set the cookies on the living room table, and disappeared into the kitchen. Five seconds later, the cookies had disappeared as well, and every Weasley male, plus Max, had crumbs on his jumper.

"The ones who pass," Cho continued, glancing dubiously at Charlie, "are given a fundamentals exam on dragons. It's pathetic how little people know sometimes, honestly." She gave a disgusted sigh. "How hard is it to at least guess at six of the twelve uses of dragon's blood?"

Hermione nodded sympathetically and let Leo clutch her index finger with all his tiny digits. That felt so… nice. She kissed his face. "You're adorable," she murmured, and it struck her how horrible it was that his father would never know it. She put the thought away. No point in being morbid anymore today.

"Out of two hundred and some applicants, only seven were taken to the dragon enclosure. Only three didn't have near heart attacks when we led them into the camp and they saw how close they were really going to be to the dragons. Those three are in training now, and we'll see how they hold up, but even that'll take awhile…" Cho looked weary. She rubbed her eyes and launched into the sort of speech Hermione knew Harry would give, if he were the sort of person to admit how he was feeling. "I wish there were more of us. I hope we get some relief, we can't ride the dragons forever, it's just too draining. Half the time I feel like I'm messing up somehow - and it's not that it's difficult, they're at the point now where they behave and glide most of the time – and it's safer than a broomstick - but still, ten hours on dragonback every day is a lot. It's going to be a treat today to have supper at a table."

"You're doing a wonderful job." Charlie stood behind Cho and looked approvingly down at her. "Best rider we have," he said to Hermione and Penny. Hermione thought he looked a bit red in the face as he bumped Cho's shoulder with the old tattered suitcase he was holding. "I found my old dragons – do you want to see them?" Hermione and Penelope exchanged puzzled looks, and Charlie turned the suitcase around so that they could see the front. In fading paint it read: Magical Model Dragon Set – They Really Fly!

Cho followed Charlie to the other side of the room, and Hermione snickered. "His ears were red," she whispered to Penny.

"Dead giveaway," Penny replied with a straight face. "I tried to explain to Cho about the ears earlier, but she said I was talking nonsense. She seems to think they're just friends."

"She's in for a shock." Hermione smiled. She started to tickle Leo again, but his little chest hitched and he began to fuss. She gave him back to Penelope. "Someone needs his mummy."

Leaving Penny to feed Leo, Hermione moved over to the couch, sat down, and happily hugged her knees, watching silvery snow drift up against the frosted windows until it obscured her view of the blue and white fairy lights that dotted the ramshackle fence beyond the garden. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Weasley disappear into the kitchen and drag his wife out of it, apron and all, to trap her beneath the mistletoe. Mrs. Weasley squealed and swatted him, but didn't seem to mind at all. Hermione giggled and her eyes wandered over to Ron - who was already staring at her again in a way that made her hot all over. Just like those letters. He had to stop looking at her like that in front of other people - it was almost obscene! It was also fantastic. She'd slept next to him again, last night, and the way he looked at her now reminded of her of exactly how he had kissed her and touched her, and of just how difficult it had been to hold back. Saying no was harder now than it had ever been; she had come back to find a man where there had been an overgrown boy. She had to wonder why she was still saying no. She didn't want to say no. It was more out of habit now, than anything… perhaps it was time for some serious reevaluation...

"So." A tall, solid redhead settled next to her on the couch, but Hermione hardly noticed him. He wasn’t Ron. Ron had turned away again and was showing Max how to use the Levitating Charm to dress the tree.

"He’s going to get a warning for Improper Use of Magic!" Hermione warned.

Ron grinned over his shoulder. "Oh, sure. Dad’s the Minister, Hogwarts is out of session, and Max is going to get an angry owl any second now. Aren’t you, Max?"

Max swished, flicked, and sent the star to the top of the Christmas tree. "Doubt it," he replied coolly, and Hermione laughed in spite of herself.

"Oh, all right," she muttered, settling back on the couch and finding that her peripheral vision now held not one, but two of Ron’s older brothers.

"He’s rather a hand with kids, isn’t he?" observed Bill lightly, from her right.

Hermione felt suddenly and inexplicably nervous. Normally, when people asked her about her love life, she guiltlessly treated them to a proper indignant silence. She didn’t know, however, if she could ignore Ron’s brother.

"Erm," she answered intelligently. "Max seems to like him."

"Oh, I’d say Max is just about taken with him," Charlie agreed, from her left. "Not really surprising, is it? He’s a decent enough fellow."

There was a silence, in which it became clear to Hermione that she was expected to answer. "Oh – yes," she finally said. "Yes, he’s… very decent." She wondered if the things that Ron had done to her just before she’d left for the Thinker qualified as decent.

"Now there’s praise," Bill laughed. "I get the idea he has a pretty high opinion of you, too."

Hermione blushed, and couldn’t think of what to say; her eyes drifted across the room to where Cho had returned to Penelope and Leo, floating several toy dragons through the air behind her. She tried to concentrate on that.

"You’ve been together how long?" Charlie asked.

"We… if you count… I… guess it’s… it depends." Hermione wanted to kick herself.

Bill leaned forward. "Depends on what? Who we ask?"

Charlie grinned. "Well, where’s Harry, then? He’ll know –"

"They’ve been dating for two and a half years," Ginny said dully, walking by with another enormous plate of cookies, which she set on the table. "They’ve been together for seven and a half. And you can’t ask Harry anything, Charlie, you horrible idiot, because he’s at Azkaban on a dragon, where you put him." She turned on her heel and stalked back to the kitchen. The door slammed shut behind her.

"More like Mum every time I see her," Charlie muttered, scratching his head. "She used to be so cute, Hermione, you wouldn’t believe it. Sweetest little kid in the world." He grabbed several cookies at once and popped one into his mouth. "Oy, Mum –" he yelled out, his voice thick through the crumbs. "These are great."

"I made them," Ginny yelled back. "And you’d better just save them for everybody else."

"I think ‘everybody else’ is code for ‘Harry’," Bill observed.

Hermione wanted to hush them, but she didn't want to draw attention back to herself. She hoped they had finished questioning her, and that they would now get busy eating and move on to some activity other than giving her the third degree.

"Well, then, where were we?" Charlie turned back to her. "So you’ve been snogging our baby brother for awhile now."

Hermione went scarlet.

"Now, Charlie…" Bill warned, but he was grinning.

"Two and a half years," mused Charlie. "That’s a long time – I’ve never had a girlfriend that long. Ronald’s got ahead of us, William."

"It would seem so, Charles."

"Well then Percy and Fred got ahead of you too," shot Hermione. "Seems you're behind." She crossed her arms. They could both just stuff it. Bill and Charlie stared at each other in mock surprise, while Hermione concentrated on the back of Ron’s head. She wasn’t sure, but she assumed he could hear the whole conversation from where he stood - why didn't he make them stop it? She wasn't used to being teased, and he knew that, and he was only a few feet away. But if Ron could hear them, he made no sign of it. He handed an ornament to Max, and picked two more out of the box at his feet.

"You must know him well, then?" Bill prodded. "Better than most girls do, I expect?"

They weren't going to give up. It was on the tip of Hermione’s tongue to tell Bill that she knew Ron better than his own family did, not to mention any girl anywhere, but she held it in. "Oh, I don’t know," she answered airily. "You’d have to check around with other girls and find out what they know, before we could do any sort of honest comparison. I imagine I know… enough."

Ron's ears went pink, and though he continued to hang his ornaments, Hermione knew he was listening.

Charlie snickered. "Well, he warned us you were smart."

"Yeah, he did – speaking of which, it must’ve been fascinating to work with the Thinker," Bill said, turning to her and pulling one leg up on the couch, folding it so that his ankle crossed his knee. "What was it like?" he asked earnestly. All the teasing had gone out of his voice. "Greece is one place I’ve never been, and I’ve only ever read about the Thinking process - really cool stuff. Did you find it difficult?"

Hermione blinked at him. He was a little bit like Percy. "Cortona was beautiful," she answered slowly, "but Thinking… actually, it is difficult." She glanced at Bill, who was listening intently. "There's so much I want to try, but to be honest, nothing's ever come so hard, before, and I’m not sure I’m capable –"

"Oh, go on." Ron turned around, an ornament in each hand, and huffed at her. "Of course you’re capable – you’ve been out there studying for four months, and when have you ever studied anything you couldn’t learn?"

On either side of Hermione, Bill and Charlie settled back on the couch and watched. Ron flushed a bit, but didn’t back down.

"It’s not that I couldn’t learn it," Hermione answered carefully, noticing that Penny had stopped singing and was looking toward her as well. "It’s… just I’m not… it isn’t my strength. The meditating and the silence were really hard for me – but mostly it was the Thinking. I do much better when the information is already there, in books – I can put things together, but I have a difficult time drawing the answers out of thin air. Still, I’ll try to use it the best I can, because there are so many things that need doing, and I do have the training."

"But you’re not going to stay a Thinker?" Bill pressed.

"I’m not a Thinker as it is," Hermione laughed. "I’m just an apprentice. I should have stayed longer, and learned more. But I… couldn’t stay." Fleetingly, she met Ron’s eyes. There was something in his gaze that stole her breath, and she looked away, trying to inhale properly. She could still feel his eyes on her, hot and steady; she wanted to get out of the room and go somewhere private, where Ron could hold her and look at her like that for as long as he wanted, without an audience.

"Cider, dears?" Mrs. Weasley was in the room.

There was a shattering sound. Ron had dropped one of his ornaments to the wooden floor. He stared at it, swallowing hard, his ears quite red. Hermione felt her own cheeks burn, and wondered if Mrs. Weasley had noticed the way they’d been looking at each other. She hoped not.

"Oh, Ron, that was Ginny’s ornament – she made it when she was a tiny thing," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Fix it before any of the pieces get lost, please."

"It’s okay," Ginny shouted from the kitchen. "If it’s the yellow thing with the paint all over it, I hated it anyway."

"Well I love it." Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "Here, I’ll do it." She lifted her wand.

"Wait," Hermione interrupted, seeing her way out of the conversation with Bill and Charlie.

"Hold on, let’s teach Max to do it, since he’s apparently allowed to use magic." She darted away from the couch and knelt near Max, pulling her wand. "It’s going to be that same motion you just did for the Levitation Charm – which was perfect, by the way."

Max tossed his sandy hair arrogantly, but he couldn’t help smiling just a little.

"You’ll swish and flick, and then it’s going to be ‘Reparo’. You’ll want to concentrate on all those pieces, and also concentrate really hard in your mind’s eye – think of exactly what the ornament used to look like, and bring those pieces back together with the charm. All right?"

Max nodded and lifted his wand. The room was very still. "Reparo!" Max swished and flicked. Ron caught the newly mended ornament in his hand. "Nice!" he commended.

"Very well done," Hermione admitted, observing Max. He showed signs of being a rather powerful boy. Even she hadn’t got the Repairing Charm right on her first go. Of course, she’d done it at home, without a teacher.

Max reached out for the ornament, which Ron handed him. "Cool," he mumbled, behaving almost like a normal child, as he hung his masterpiece on the tree.

"Cool," Ron repeated softly, and extended his hand across the table to Hermione. "Walk?" he asked casually.

Hermione took his hand, stood up, and gratefully hurried away from Bill and Charlie. "Yes, outside," she whispered.

Ron steered her out the door, to the tune of Bill's and Charlie's sniggers. He guided her around the side of the Burrow, and into a small spot between two snow-covered bushes, where there were no windows looking out on them.

Hermione shivered – she’d left her cloak inside – but she forgot about being cold when Ron gripped her waist and brought her to him, kissing the side of her neck.

"Sorry about my brothers," he mumbled, curling a hand into her hair.

"It’s okay…"

Hermione softly rubbed her nose against his neck and kissed near his collar. "You smell nice," she murmured, lacing her arms around his solid neck. "And I do like these robes."

"Better than Muggle stuff?" Ron mumbled in her ear, nipping the lobe and returning to her neck.

"Oh – yes – you look – taller and more – I don’t know –" Hermione caught a breath and sighed out a sound of pleasure as one of Ron’s hands moved around to hold her lower back, and the other began to travel up her side.

"More what?" Ron kissed her bottom lip. "More impressive?" he offered, grinning. "More dignified?" He sealed his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, making her groan. "More handsome?" he whispered, mock-sensually, pulling away and pecking her lips quickly, laughing.

"More of a pain in my –" Hermione stopped, smiling. Ron looked almost afraid of her next word. He was so funny, never watching his own language in the slightest, but having a near heart attack if she came close to swearing. "Neck," she finished, tilting back her head, shutting her eyes and breathing steam into the cold December air, as Ron nuzzled her throat with his nose and lips.

Gravity shifted and Hermione gripped Ron tighter; he had lifted her off the ground. She made a noise of surprise and wrapped her legs around him and he backed her against the wall, trapping her between the Burrow and his body. Ron’s hands curved beneath her, holding her up. Hermione could feel all his fingers. She looked straight into his eyes, searching him – he looked very serious, though his eyes were unfocused and his breathing was labored.

"I love you," he muttered suddenly.

Hermione’s heart swelled for him – she untangled her arms from around his neck and held her hands to his face. "You are handsome," she whispered. "You know I think so. And these things you’re wearing make you look older and… you’re quite… I find you so attractive."

He flushed.

"Well, I do. And you’re very good with Max."

"Oh, I just – you know." Ron blushed harder. "He’s a good kid."

"He’s a brat!" Hermione laughed. "He’s precocious and arrogant. But he likes you." She softly kissed the tip of Ron’s long nose.

"I've got practice winning over the precocious and arrogant," Ron replied, grinning. He tilted up his chin and brushed his open mouth across hers, then let his lips stay there, not kissing her, not pressing close. They breathed each other for a long time. "Did I get to say how much I missed you?"

"Say it again."

"I bloody missed you. Every day. Like hell."

Hermione bent her head and captured Ron’s mouth with her own, kissing him with slow, intense desire. His tongue was hot, his hands firm, his body strong enough to hold hers up as he kissed her. Hermione held tightly to him, pulling away only to whisper in his ear; "I want you."

Ron shivered. She felt the hair stand up all over his body. She could feel everything.

"I want you, too." He made a hungry sound and kissed her throat, hard, bringing the skin into his mouth so that Hermione knew she’d be bruised in an hour. She didn’t care. She could fix it with a Charm.

"I mean it." She was shocked to hear her voice, shocked to hear the words. She hadn’t planned it like this. She had meant to… well…plan it.

Ron held her close, his arms like a vise, and put his mouth on hers. "What are you saying?" he mumbled against her lips. "What are you telling me, Hermione?"

"I want you," she repeated in a whisper of sheer heat. "I want you, I’m ready. Ron, I can’t wait."

"Oh, God –" His cry was hoarse, victorious, and Hermione felt her body slammed against the house as Ron’s lips met hers with a kind of ferocity she’d rarely known from him, and she gave over to it, reveling in the attack.

"Not – right here –" she managed, unsure of what his limitations were. He didn’t seem to have any, at the moment. She wasn’t even sure if Ron had heard her – he kept her pinned breathless against the side of the Burrow for a long, delirious moment. And then, without warning, he set her on her feet, keeping his hands where they had been beneath her.

"Of course not here," he murmured. "My mum’s on the other side of this wall."

Hermione snorted, and buried her face against him. "True. Well… we could wait until the holidays are over, and we’re back at your house."

"That’s four days." Ron’s voice was low and urgent in her ear. "Can you wait four days? Because I’ve been waiting three years, I can wait four days." He moved his hands meaningfully. "I don’t want to wait four days. But I can do it."

Hermione, to her own shock, moved a little against his hands, and then against him. She drew up one leg and wrapped it around the outside of his thigh. "I don’t think I can wait," she answered truthfully, her voice a whisper. She knew she must be pink in the face, but when she forced her eyes up to Ron’s, she knew that it was all right to say whatever she wanted. His eyes had glazed over and he was looking down at her in a kind of blissful shock.

"You don’t have to," he croaked, sliding his hand to her thigh and pressing her bent leg closer to his. "We can Apparate home right now."

"No we can’t." But Hermione pushed against him, not sure how she was going to stand waiting even half a day. "Your mum’s cooked that huge dinner and Harry’s going to be here in half an hour - we can’t leave yet."

"Hermione…" Ron groaned.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04