The Lewis House 64 страница

"I n-never c-cried about it because I never r-realized he was really g-gone until this m-morning when it was C-Christmas and he wasn't here, and n-now I know he's not coming b-back…"

She dissolved. Harry watched her sink into herself, crying and rocking, and he didn't know what to do. He moved closer to her and put his arms around her; Ginny shifted at once and buried herself in him, continuing to sob into his jumper. Harry held her tightly, but could not think of a word to say. He had never seen her like this.

"Oh, Ginny."

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Mrs. Weasley standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a look on her face that he remembered from Percy's memorial service. She met Harry's eyes, and he had to look down.

"Is she all right?" Remus appeared over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. He and Sirius came into the room, looking very anxious.

Harry wasn't sure. He shrugged and tightened his arms around Ginny, who was crying so hard that her tears had seeped through to his T-shirt. He felt a damp patch on his shoulder and, despite how strange it was to have Mrs. Weasley watching, he kissed Ginny softly on the top of her head. "Shh," he said quietly, hoping that only Ginny could hear him. "I've got you, okay?"

Ginny sobbed and nodded against him, and Harry softly moved a hand up and down her back, following instincts that were entirely new, but quite strong. Still, it was really weird, doing this in the Burrow, and he was glad that Mr. Weasley wasn't in the room. Or Bill.

"She'll be all right." It was Penelope's voice. Harry didn't dare look back at her - it had been hard enough to look at Mrs. Weasley's face, but Penelope… She'd lost something that Harry couldn't even begin to think about. It would have been like losing Ginny. He clutched at her reflexively. Soft footsteps padded away up the stairs and Harry didn't blame Penelope for getting out of the room. A moment later, however, the footsteps returned, and to Harry's surprise, Penelope stood over the two of them, dry-eyed, holding Leo in her arms.

"Here Ginny," she said softly. "Take him."

Ginny picked up her head and blinked up at her sister in law. Her face was a mess; Harry pushed her hair out of it for her but realized he couldn't reach his trouser pocket to get at the Healing Cloth. It didn't matter - Mrs. Weasley was ahead of him. She came to the sofa with tissues and water; Ginny took the tissues and blew her nose before reaching out for the soft little bundle Penelope offered. Leo nestled against her without a murmur and went right back to sleep. Ginny sniffled and stared glassily down at her little nephew.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

Harry kept his arm around them both and watched Ginny's face. It was strange, but he thought he could actually see the bags under her eyes receding, and the color creeping back into her cheeks. He remembered her once saying that Leo was a relief to her. Perhaps holding babies was something Ginny ought to do more often. And she did look sweet like this. Natural. This whole thing sort of… felt natural, in a bizarre and foreign way, like getting to another country and finding out that he could already speak the language. His mum and dad had been young when they'd had him - he wondered how his dad had felt about it.

Harry went red as it struck him what he was considering. What in the hell was he thinking about?

"All right, Ginny?" It was Ron. He and Hermione came in and hovered at the end of the sofa. Ginny nodded, and Ron's eyes moved from her, to the baby, to Harry, then back to Ginny, and deliberately back to Harry again. Ron quirked an eyebrow and Harry's face grew hotter as he realized that Ron was probably having thoughts similar to his own. But he kept his arm around Ginny and the baby, even when Mr. Weasley and Bill came in a moment later, towing Max. Bill gave Harry a rather ominous look, and Harry swallowed.

"What's wrong with her?" Max complained as the family settled into the myriad mismatched chairs and onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. "Both my parents died," he went on impressively, swaggering up to the sofa, "and I never cried." He raked his eyes over Harry's forehead, and tossed his sandy hair. "Bet you didn't either."

Harry stared at him, openmouthed.

"If you want something to cry about," Ron muttered, "I'll give you -"

"Didn't you really?" Ginny interrupted quietly. She gave Max a long, studious look and the room stayed quiet; Harry had a feeling that the rest of them were as shocked as he was by Max's offensive behavior.

But Ginny seemed to have other ideas. She turned and offered Leo to Harry.

"Take him, would you?" she asked. "And scoot down. I want Max to sit here with me for a minute."

Harry obeyed, cradling the baby in awkward arms and clearing the center cushion for Max, who looked disdainfully at the empty spot.

"What for?" Max demanded.

"Because… I want to tell everyone something, and I want you to be my assistant." Ginny looked at Remus. "I can do this," she said firmly. "So just let me."

Harry realized at once what Ginny was about to tell her family - he exchanged excited, worried looks with Ron and Hermione, and with Sirius, while the rest of the room looked at Ginny in confusion.

Remus glanced at her parents. "Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Positive," Ginny answered. "I won't hurt myself, or him."

Max stepped back. "What's going on?" he asked edgily. "What're you talking about? Who's getting hurt?"

No one else asked questions, but they all looked as curious as Max sounded. Mr. Weasley and Bill leaned forward in their chairs by the fire; Fred and George had turned around on the carpet to look up at Ginny; Penelope and Angelina perched in the window nook and fixed their eyes on Max; and Mrs. Weasley stood in the kitchen doorway again, looking from Remus to Sirius with anxious eyes.

"It's a secret," Ginny told Max. "But I'm going to tell it, and you're going to help me." She patted the empty cushion. "Sit down."

Max did, very gingerly. "Don't hurt me."

Ginny laughed softly. "Then be very still," she instructed, "and very, very quiet."

"Crazy house," Max muttered, but he shut his mouth when Ginny raised her hands in front of him, and his eyes went wide with terror.

Ginny's eyes, on the other hand, fell shut. Harry watched her face and Max's, rapt. This was so incredible - she was so incredible. He could hear everyone breathing in the silence; Hermione's breath in particular was quick and labored, and Harry knew she must be beside herself with excitement to know about Ginny. She'd probably read ten books about Healers in the past three days. She could probably tell them both where to find new ones.

Slowly, Ginny dragged her fingers through the air, stopping above Max's head, then above his shoulders, and finally over his heart. She moved her hands gently, seeming to work with some great knot of energy, which was the way the books had described it. Harry wondered what she was feeling, or if it was hurting her - he thought it might be. Her color was fading again and her freckles looked darker against her skin by the second. She pulled back her hands and took a shaking breath, then went on working.

Max's face had gone slack and his eyes were very wet. He began to take heaving breaths, as if working up to an enormous sob.

"It's all right," Ginny murmured, opening her eyes to look at him. "Tell me."

Max stared at Ginny as if mesmerized. "It was just the once," he whispered. "I only cried once. Just the first night I found out." His chin trembled, and Harry's did too; he looked down at Leo and tried to focus his own blurry vision. The poor kid. It had probably been worse for him - after all, he'd had eleven years to get used to having parents. "Could you stop now?" Max whispered.

Ginny dropped her hands, and Max gasped as if he'd been struck. The glazed look went out of his face and was replaced with one of anguished fury.

"I'm so sorry, Max." Ginny gazed at him. "We all are."

Max stared at her for another moment, his chest heaving. Then he leapt to his feet and bolted out the door into the snow. The door slammed.

"I'll get him," said Ron, and darted after Max. The door slammed again.

Everyone else stared at Ginny. She leaned back on the cushions, still pale and breathing irregularly, and looked at her hands.

"You're joking," Bill breathed. He gripped the arms of his chair. "There's no way. There is no way."

"What?" said Fred and George at once.

"She's a…" Bill shook his head. "Ginny, did you just…"

"She's a Healer." Mr. Weasley gave a dry laugh, and several people sucked in their breath. "Well, I'll be damned."

"A Heal - no! Not - but Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley whirled on Remus. "Did you know?"

"Are you really?" demanded Bill, before Remus could open his mouth. Bill was out of his chair, looking like his might come out of his skin as well. "Ginny, can you actually - with plants, and animals and -"

"You'd be the first one in over fifty years," Penelope said, looking awed. "If you are one. Are you?"

"A Healer?" Fred looked nonplussed. "What, like a mediwizard? She can't be, can she? She's not even out of school."

"She'd have to apprentice," added George. "Not to mention get N.E.W.T.s in just about everything."

Bill shook his head impatiently. "Not like a mediwizard," he scoffed. "It's completely different, it's difficult to explain - honestly, didn’t you two ever pay attention in History of Magic?"

"It's Empathic Magic," Hermione said softly, and a dozen heads swiveled towards her. "Possessed only by very rare individuals. You can't train for it, you have to be born with it. It's a gift."

"Right," said Bill.

"Oh shut up, Bighead number one," said Fred, sitting back on his heels and crossing his arms to address Hermione. "So how does it work?"

"Well… Healers are sensitive to energy of all kinds - plants, beasts and creatures."

"Creatures?" Mrs. Weasley repeated.

"Well, humans," said Hermione. "But everyone else, too. Merpeople, giants -"

"House-elves?" George suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione gave him a withering look. "Anyway, Healers can work with energy, and correct it through a completely intuitive, nearly psychic process. Mostly what they feel is…" she glanced at Ginny and Harry. "Pain. Physical and emotional."

"Pain?" Mrs. Weasley said anxiously. "Ginny, are you all right?"

"Other people's pain," Hermione cut in gently. "Second hand. It doesn't cause physical pain in the Healer - that is, not generally." She glanced at Harry again. "It's just the signpost the Healer uses to know where to begin working. The books say that it's like untying knots in the air around the afflicted subject, and that some are more difficult to undo than others." She paused. "Is that true, Ginny?"

For the first time since Max had left the room, Ginny looked up. "Yes," she said. She looked at Harry. "Could I have Leo back, please?"

Harry returned to the middle cushion and gave her the baby at once. Ginny shifted closer against him and, after a wary look at Bill and Mr. Weasley, Harry carefully put his arm around her shoulders. No one seemed to notice or care this time, though, and Ginny's grateful smile sent such a warm feeling through Harry that he didn't care who minded. It seemed that he no longer had a terrible effect on Ginny, and he hoped that it would last. He didn't want her to have to explain any of that to her family.

"Then you are." Bill rubbed the bridge of his nose and stared at Ginny as if he'd never seen her before. Which, Harry thought proudly, he probably hadn't. "You really are. A Healer."

"I really am."

"How long have you known?" asked Mr. Weasley quietly. His eyes, behind his glasses, were tired and troubled, but Harry could see the pride in them.

"Four months. Remus worked it out first, and he's been helping me study - no, Mum, leave him alone. I'm seventeen and it's my business and I wanted to tell you on my own."

Mrs. Weasley gave Remus a resentful look, but nodded. She still looked as if she hadn't fully accepted the new information. "A Healer," she said blankly. "Well. I suppose I should have expected it. You're the most… shocking children I…" She rubbed her head. "And just what will you do?" she demanded. "How will you use it? What…" She waved her hands helplessly in the air.

"Well… if Dad'll hire me, then I have one idea -" Ginny began, but the front door slammed open and cut her off. Ron came through it, carrying Max around the waist. Max was blue and shivering, but kicking as if his life depended on it.

"Bloody BRAT," Ron roared. "You'd've frozen -"

Max kicked Ron's shin and Ron dropped him. "HA!" Max shouted, and made for the door again.

Ron lunged after him. Mrs. Weasley raised her wand. "Petrificus Totalus," she said casually, and stuck her wand back in her pocket.

Max clunked to the floor, blinking rapidly. His face had frozen in a contorted expression of fury.

"Take him to his room, would you, Ron, dear?"

"I'll take him back to Diagon Alley if you like," Ron began.

But Mrs. Weasley only laughed. "He's staying here," she said stoutly, and gave Max a hard look. "That hex will wear off in about an hour," she told him. "But your door and window will be locked until we've had a talk. I'll be up in a bit. And if you tear the room apart before I get there, I warn you - you'll regret it."

Max grunted something that Harry suspected would have been a curse word if he could have moved his mouth.

"Good night to you too, dear," said Mrs. Weasley pleasantly, and Ron floated Max's stiff body up the stairs. "What were you saying, Ginny?"

"Mum's in her element again," Fred whispered to George, and the two of them snickered. Mrs. Weasley put her hand to her wand and arched her eyebrows at them. They went quiet.

"I was just saying," Ginny said, looking at Mr. Weasley with pleading eyes, "that I think I could be a lot of use to the Ministry right now."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "I'm sure you could," he said. "And of course I'll want to bring you on as soon as you've taken your N.E.W.T.s - if I'm still acting Minister, that is."

Mrs. Weasley made an exasperated noise. "You will be."

"No, Dad. I could be useful now." Ginny gave Harry a fleeting look and he squeezed her shoulders encouragingly. She straightened up a bit, and took a deep breath. "I want you to let me come to Azkaban and sort out what's wrong with the dragons."

"NO." Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, Bill and Harry had all spoken at once.

"No?" Ginny turned on Harry, holding Leo close and keeping her voice down. "Did you just say no?"

Harry took his arm away from her shoulders - she clearly didn't want it there now. "Yes," he said. "You can't go to Azkaban."

"You… I… can't?" She looked furious. "You're up there every day. You're falling off of dragons. Mick O'Malley and Draco Malfoy fell into the ocean today and you're telling me I can't come and do something about it?"

Leo stirred in his blankets. His eyes scrunched up. He gave a little hiccough, and began to cry.

"Damn it," Ginny muttered. "Look what you did."

Harry opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't been shouting, but Penelope came and plucked Leo out of the fray.

"Good luck, Ginny," she said wryly, and carried her son upstairs.

"Give me one good reason why I can't," Ginny said, turning back to her father. "Go on."

"Because you don't need to," said Mr. Weasley. He still hadn't taken his eyes off her. "We'll work out something else."

"Like?"

"Something else," said Bill flatly, but he hadn't stopped staring at Ginny either. "A Healer," he repeated.

"Yes, a Healer, Bill," Ginny said angrily. "Not that it matters, apparently."

"Are you really the only one in fifty years?" George asked suddenly. "Wow."

Ginny ignored him. "Mum," she pleaded. "Tell them to let me help. I can. I'm really good. Remus, tell them."

But Remus said nothing, and Mr. Weasley looked at George. "There haven't been any Healers since the forties," he said quietly. "When there were two. But they were tortured and killed by Grindelwald and…" He returned his eyes to Ginny. "This is an enormous responsibility."

"I know. So say I can Heal the dragons."

"I can't let you do that," Mr. Weasley said.

Ginny gave a little growl of anger. "Of course you can!" she shouted. "You're the Minister of bloody Magic!"

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley admonished. "Please don't swear."

"And if you won't let me," Ginny went on without acknowledging her mother, "then I'll just write a letter to the Secretary Privy!"

"So will I," Remus said calmly. "To inform her that you are a novice."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked relieved. Ginny looked murderous.

"So this is how you managed the Wolfsbane Potion," Bill said slowly. "All right. I get it…"

"Funny you're just finding out about this now, Ginny," George said thoughtfully. "I mean, no offense, but it would've been helpful to have you Healing people a year or two ago, wouldn't it?"

"Oh thanks," Ginny shot back.

"Actually, Ginny's very young to develop evident powers," Hermione said, and Harry turned in surprise at the obvious anger in her voice. She was on Ginny's side, obviously, and would probably have a lot to say about it. He sighed to himself, and Hermione continued. "Healers often don't find out what they are until they're halfway through their lives - sometimes they don't find out at all. But if a person with latent Empathic Magic goes through a traumatic experience at a very young age, then by the late teens or early twenties, it's possible for that person's powers to rise to the surface. Ginny is unusual and remarkable."

Ginny put her chin in the air. "Thanks, Hermione."

"So the war traumatized her and now she's got powers?" Fred grinned. "Cool."

"She had the powers all along, and it probably wasn't the war that did it," Hermione replied. "It was probably much earlier, because it takes years for Healing powers to rise to maturation once they're woken."

Fred frowned and looked at Ginny. "So it must've been…"

George's eyebrows shot up. "It was that di-"

"Never mind." Ginny stood up. "You're all horrible - except for Hermione - and I'm going to write my letter."

"Hey, I didn't say anything!" Ron exclaimed, appearing on the stairs. "I'm not horrible." He hurried back to Hermione. "Am I? Did I say anything? What happened?"

Hermione shook her head and tucked her arm through his. "I'll tell you later," she whispered.

Ginny swept over to the stairs.

"Now, Ginny -" Mr. Weasley stood up and blocked her way. "It's Christmas."

"Excuse me, Dad."

He shook his head. "No, we're going to give Sirius his er - Christmas gift - " he glanced at Remus, who nodded, "- and you won't want to miss it. Just… just give us a day to take this all in, would you?" He smiled a little. "Your news is incredible, but…"

"It's a bit difficult to process," Bill finished.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Hermione's quite right - remarkable. Rare. Should have said that straight away - shock, I suppose." He looked apologetic.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley added faintly, gazing at Ginny. "Shock. Very… very proud, dear."

Ginny's angry expression softened, just barely. "But you don't trust me," she said.

"I don't even know what you're capable of," said Mr. Weasley. "I wouldn't hire anyone for such a big job without first seeing some demonstration of ability - should I treat you differently?"

Ginny opened her mouth, and shut it. She shook her head slowly. "But… once I show you I'm capable, you'll let me try it?"

"We'll see." He put his arms out. "Come on, Ginny - hug your old Dad, all right?"

"All right." Ginny stepped into her father's arms for a hug and shut her eyes. "Thanks, Dad." Her voice was muffled.

"Happy Christmas," Mr. Weasley said, and kissed the top of her head. He sounded slightly choked, and when he let her go, he pushed up his glasses with fingers that shook slightly. "Well then." He looked around. "I'll, er - I'll just ask everyone to pop into the garage for a minute, if that's all right? But Sirius, you stay here, and Remus, you bring him in."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just do what you're told," said Remus, smiling. Everyone filed past them and walked out into the garage. Harry tried to get close to Ginny, but Bill had slung an arm around her and was quietly asking her question after question. She looked much less annoyed now, and gave her mother a long hug when Mrs. Weasley edged Bill out of the way to fuss over her. But when Harry finally caught Ginny's eye she only gave him a hurt look, and glanced away. Hermione shot him a pointed glare, as if to say that he deserved it, and Harry gave up. Apparently he was in trouble, and there was no getting out of it right now. Instead, he focused his attention on the bulky, sheet-draped thing that stood alone in the middle of the cluttered garage. It was wide, waist height, and strangely shaped, with things jutting beneath the sheet at odd angles. A space had been cleared around it.

It was absolutely going to slay Sirius.

"Does Sirius know?" Fred whispered to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Not a clue."

"Excellent," said George.

The family stood in a circle around the strange object. Mr. Weasley grinned at his wife, rubbed his hands together, and stuck his head out the door. "REMUS?" he shouted towards the house. "YOU CAN BRING HIM IN!"

Everyone watched Sirius as he came through the door, suspicion in his expression. "Is this a prank, Moony?"

"It's Christmas," Remus said patiently, coming in behind him and leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. "Would I trick you on Christmas?"

Sirius snorted and looked back at him. "All right, now I know it's a prank."

Remus shrugged. "Suit yourself." He gestured to the object in the center of the room. "Open it."

With guarded eyes, Sirius approached the bulky sheet. He frowned at it, looked around at everyone, and tentatively touched it. "This had better not explode," he muttered. In one swift motion, he gripped the sheet and pulled it from the object.

Harry thought his godfather's knees were going to buckle.

"Oh my God." Sirius reached out a shaking hand and touched the shining black motorcycle that stood in front of him. "Oh my God," he repeated, his voice a sheer whisper. He ran light fingers along the handlebar, then withdrew his hand as if he'd burnt it. "Impossible." He laughed, and the sound was strangled. "Seventeen… years… where did you… Remus… how…" He stopped and looked at Mr. Weasley. "She's the same one?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"The very same." Mr. Weasley was pink with pleasure. "She's been in storage at the Misuse office for years - couldn't bring myself to throw her away, always was rather fascinated - I was dead glad to have an opportunity to read up on these machines and do a little restoration - my pleasure, honestly. Remus's idea. Everyone did a little of the work, it's taken us a few months to sort everything out but I'm fairly certain she's ready to fly."

Sirius laughed again and seized Mr. Weasley, who looked almost terrified, in a fierce hug. "My bike," he nearly shouted, and let go. He grabbed Remus next. "My bike." He released Remus and went back to touching the motorcycle with reverent hands as if to memorize it all over again. He looked eighteen. His smile was dazzling and the darkness that always hung in his eyes had vanished. Harry was stunned by the difference it made. He looked like the Sirius from his parents' wedding album. "Want to have a go, Harry?" Sirius blinded him with a smile.

"No!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Not until you've tested Arthur's, er - restorations."

Mr. Weasley looked a bit dejected, and so was Harry - flying that thing was going to be a blast.

"Later then, Harry, all right?" Sirius asked, still grinning like a madman. "She's a dream, I'm telling you - no Firebolt 5 can compare. I don't know how to thank you all."

"You could give me tomorrow off," Ron suggested. Harry noticed that Ron's hand rested dangerously low on Hermione's back and that she wasn't complaining; rather, she was looking up at Ron in a way Harry had never seen her do in front of other people. He'd caught her at it once or twice, but never with all the Weasleys watching. He wondered if she'd had something to drink.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04