The Lewis House 65 страница

"Done," said Sirius. "Tomorrow's yours, Ron." He went back to poring over the motorcycle while the twins asked questions about it.

"Thanks." Ron slid his hand slightly lower and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and open again. Harry looked away. They needed to get a room. Ron cleared his throat. "I think I'd like a walk," he announced unnecessarily. His voice sounded strange.

"Me too," said Hermione, sounding just as odd. "Happy Christmas Sirius - and everyone." Most of the Weasleys went on talking excitedly with Sirius as Hermione pulled away from Ron and went for the garage door. She stopped to give Harry a quick hug. "I'm sorry about what happened with the dragons - I'm glad you weren't hurt." She lowered her voice so that no one could hear her but Harry. "Don't be stupid about Ginny, all right?" She patted his back. "Apologize to her. Trust me. Happy Christmas." She nearly ran from the garage, and Ron followed her. Ron's goodbye was much less intelligible; he mumbled something, clipped Harry on the shoulder, and practically ran after Hermione. Harry heard the front door shut.

Ginny stood a few feet back from the motorcycle, and was not engaged in the rest of her family's conversation. She looked pensive. Harry approached her, not sure what to say.

"Sorry," he offered. That had, after all, been Hermione's advice.

Ginny looked at him. "For what?"

"For…" Harry searched himself. "I don't know." He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just don't want you angry with me."

She rolled her eyes. "Hermione told you to apologize, didn't she? I swear." She sighed, and put out a hand to stop Harry from speaking again. "I'm not having this conversation in front of my whole family," she whispered, and went past him into the house. Harry followed, feeling rather desperate, and a little bit annoyed. He had no idea what to say, and apparently that wasn't going to be good enough. And Ginny didn't seem interested in talking; she didn't stop in the front room, but went directly for the stairs. "Good night," she said.

"Well don't just go to bed!" Harry said, exasperated.

Ginny paused on the steps and looked over the railing at him. "Why not?"

"Because I'm trying to talk to you!" He felt very stupid, and a little bit embarrassed. "I'm not you, you know, I can't just put my hands out and work out what the problem is."

She crossed her arms. "You know what the problem is, Harry. You know I just want to help you, and you should have helped me. You know they listen to you. They don't listen to me - I'm a Healer, for goodness' sake, and if that doesn't convince them to stop treating me like a baby then I -"

"No one's treating you like a baby." Harry crossed his arms in retort. "We're worried about you. That's different. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I wouldn't get hurt."

"Mick is a Species Specialist and he got thrown today."

"And people are going to keep getting thrown if something isn't done about it." Ginny rubbed her eyes. "Look, I'm tired. Max really took it out of me, I need to lie down."

"Okay." Harry shrugged helplessly. "Fine. I'm just going to back to the Notch and go to sleep - but before work tomorrow can we -"

"You can't go back to the Notch tonight, you have to stay here." Ginny's face flushed a little. "You can have Ron's room," she added hastily.

Harry frowned at her. "Why?"

"Erm, because…" Ginny bit her lip and flushed more deeply, and Harry had no idea what was going on. Why was she trying to keep him here all night if she was angry with him? His face warmed up. "Hermione and Ron… you know."

Harry didn't.

"Hermione made me promise to keep you here tonight." Ginny shifted her weight on the steps. "Just don't go home, all right? You'd rather not, I promise."

"But…" Harry stopped. The light switched on in his brain. "Oh." An unwelcome image came into his mind and he pulled a face. "Oh really."

"Yes, so." Ginny was still pink, but a giggle escaped her. "Don't go home."

"No no. I won't." Harry shook his head to get the persistent mental image out of his head. "Ever again."

Ginny laughed outright. "Oh go on, you'll get used to it. There are soundproofing charms to block out the sound of -"

"Ginny!"

She snickered. "What? You want me to help you look some up? Ron used to snore when he was little, he's a really loud sleeper, so I imagine he's an even louder -"

"Stop!" Harry cried, and put his hands over his ears. "No more, seriously!"

Ginny leaned over the banister, still laughing, and pulled his hands away from his head. She held onto them and gave Harry a look full of affection. "You're such an idiot," she sighed, and pushed her fingers through his. She tugged his hands, leading him to walk around the banister and up the stairs towards her. When they were eye to eye on the step, Ginny leaned back against the wall and there was no more room in Harry's brain for Ron or Hermione. There was just Ginny, and the two inches of electric space between them, and his heart pounding in his chest, and his blood thumping in his body. She'd forgiven him. That was what this was. Wasn't it? He watched her mouth and waited for her to say something.

"I'm still angry."

Harry nodded. "Okay," he said, because it seemed important to say something. He remembered he still hadn't given Ginny her gift. He released one of his hands from Ginny's and reached around to pull the wrinkled parcel out of the pocket on the side of his trousers. "Here," he said, handing it to her, "They said you're supposed to have it. I thought it could be useful, or something. I don't really know how it works, but you probably -"

Ginny took the package, which he'd wrapped badly in tissue paper with a bright green bow, and she opened it. "Oh!" she looked genuinely happy. "Harry, you shouldn't have got something so big!"

Harry looked at the little white thing in her hands. That was big?

"I've wanted one of these – a Healing Cloth, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad you could tell that, because I didn't want you to think I'd gotten you a handkerchief. The Dursleys sent me a tissue once for Christmas, and…"

"No, stop." Ginny laughed. "It's perfect. I do need this." She looked down at it and traced the embroidered G with her finger. "It's really lovely… and it was really thoughtful." She glanced at him. Her tongue came out briefly and wet her lips, and Harry forgot about Christmas presents. "You're, erm, staying here tonight?" She bent one leg and touched her knee to his.

Harry nodded again. "Yeah. In, you know. But in Ron's room. Because your parents - well. And you can't…" He stopped as the first fully formed thought he'd had in several minutes came into his brain. He looked down at their touching knees. "Ginny, I'm really not hurting you?"

She grinned. "No."

"How?"

"I don't know, but I… I'm playing a sort of trick on myself. I've been working really hard on just separating my personal emotions from the Empathic ones, and I think I can do it now - mostly. It takes a lot of concentration, but if it means that we…" She spoke in a rush, as if she were embarrassed. "I think I can be with you and nearly turn off the Healing, although it'll be really great when I don't have to do that. Twice as great, because that's such a big part of how I feel… everything. But it won't be long, and then I won't have to separate anything, and I'll just be able to be with you in every…" She sounded very nervous. "Erm, in every sense without any sort of…" She blushed. "Barriers. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Harry thought he might. "Yes," he managed.

"Well good."

There were voices in the kitchen. Apparently everyone had finished in the garage; Harry turned to go back down the stairs, but Ginny grabbed his hand. "No, come with me."

"What, upstairs?" Harry felt a rush of fear. Not in Mr. Weasley's house, he wouldn't.

"Just come with me, hurry." Ginny dragged him to the top of the steps just in time. The voices were in the front room now: Remus and Sirius, Fred and George, Bill and Mr. Weasley.

"I can't," said Harry frantically, though he really wanted to. "They'll kill me."

"No one will know. You can Disapparate out of my room and into Ron's, if anyone knocks."

Harry stared at her. "That's true," he said, and something hot raced through his body, touching every nerve. Was she really inviting him into her bedroom? In her house? Was this because he'd got her the right present, or something? Harry felt a thrill of wicked excitement, and for the first time he understood what Ron was always saying about Hermione being mental. Ginny was actually insane - but it was great. She was brilliant. Harry took a step closer to her. "I can always Disapparate," he repeated, still looking at her mouth.

Ginny nodded. "And it's not as if we're really breaking house rules. I mean, we're obviously not going to, em – do anything tonight - not completely, you know - because it really would be awkward with everyone here and well, you know, I do want to wait until I'm better at being around you and we've - well." She swallowed and looked over his shoulder at the wall.

Harry had never been so flustered. She wanted to wait. So then, she wanted to… at some point… she'd just said… An incredible sort of movie began to play in Harry's head, and his brain shorted out. "Obviously," he said absently, and tried to focus over Ginny's shoulder.

He immediately wished he hadn't looked behind her. His eyes flew open and he nearly had a heart attack.

Penelope was standing in the corridor, just beyond Ginny. "Full house tonight," she said evenly.

Ginny jumped, dropped Harry's hand, and her mouth fell open in horror. Harry wanted to sink through the wall at his back and disappear.

Penelope didn't seem to notice their wild embarrassment. "Leo's asleep, so if you both wouldn't mind tiptoeing when you go past his room?"

"I'm not going that way," Harry said, too quickly. "I'm going to the attic, to sleep in Ron's room."

Ginny cringed.

"All right." Penelope smiled at him. "You do that." She tapped Ginny's shoulder and spoke quietly. "I'll just let your mother know, if she asks, that the two of you are fighting it out up here and that I heard you, and I think you'd better be left to sort it out. Shall I?" Her eyes twinkled. "Yes, I think so. Amazing news, Ginny, by the way - I don't know if congratulations is really the right word but, well - congratulations. Goodnight, you both." She waltzed by them and down the stairs.

"Where's Ginny?" Bill's voice floated up towards them, and Harry flattened against the wall. "I wanted to talk to her a bit more."

"She and Harry are having a row," Penelope said calmly.

"Upstairs?" Mrs. Weasley asked archly.

"Yes, I had to ask them to hush for Leo's sake - but it's nothing too horrible. They're better left to work it out, I think." Her answer seemed to satisfy the Weasleys, but it couldn't be too long before one of them came up to check and see if it was true.

"I'd better go up to the attic," Harry whispered. He wasn't sure that his heart had started beating again, and there was a funny sort of buzzing in his ears. Penelope had heard what Ginny had said - she must have heard. People were going to know.

"You'd better not," Ginny said. "Come on." She was still pink, but she took his hand again.

"They'll kill me," Harry repeated, but he went with her to the door of her room. Ginny pushed it open and Harry got a glimpse of darkness, a messy bookshelf, moonlight on a pillow and fairy lights that had been magicked around a tiny dressing table mirror. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ginny's room before; somehow, though, it looked familiar. "I should, you know, stomp up the stairs really loudly," Harry said, not really sure of what he meant. "So they'll think I've gone to Ron's room."

"If it'd make you feel better," said Ginny seriously. "Go on, I'll wait." She looked soberly into his face for another second, then cracked up laughing and tugged him into her doorway. "Hurry, get in here before they find you and kill you!" She giggled. "Oh Harry, stop looking like that, I'm joking. Anyway, if we're caught we can always tell on Ron - that'd distract Mum from anything."

Harry cracked a grin. "Okay."

Ginny smiled back at him, but her smile faded quickly into another sort of look, and Harry felt his grin disappear as his eyes fixed once again on her mouth. Ginny let go of his hand and grabbed him gently by the front of his jumper. She slowly pulled him so close to her that Harry's eyes blurred and he could feel her breath on his skin. "Want to go and stomp up the stairs?" she asked quietly.

"No."

Ginny brushed her mouth against his for a brief second and Harry took a deep breath. "Come on, Harry," she murmured, and began to walk backward into her room. Harry put his hands on her hips to guide her and bent his head to kiss her again - now that he could kiss her for as long as he wanted, he had a feeling he wasn't going to stop. Without another protest, he disappeared into her room and shut the door with his foot. "Happy Christmas," she whispered.

"Happy Christmas."

Chapter Thirty

Under the Influence

~*~

A/N: We were joking when we said that we'd written a sexy scene, which B Bennett had called "crap". We appreciate so many of you for standing up for us, but really, it was meant to be a joke. And even if we did write "sexy" scenes, we wouldn't post them at the Sugar Quill. This is a family site, folks!

Also sending a big thanks to the betas, who help us so, so, so much. Hug your beta today!

~*~

Bill Weasley usually liked Mondays. It meant a new week, new things to learn, and new adventures. But this Monday, when he woke up, he could see it was grey and rainy outside, which meant he was still in London, and not in Egypt.

"Shut it," he growled to his alarm clock, which had just started to blast news from the WWN. It stopped with a whine and Bill rolled over. Too many days not working made Bill a lazy boy. It was easy to get into the routine of doing nothing, which was why he usually tried to keep as busy as possible.

Pulling his blankets higher, Bill was about to roll over and wait for the alarm to go off again, when he remembered that Charlie had probably only just arrived home from his shift at Azkaban. It was best not to wake him, especially since they had a Ministry meeting later that afternoon.

Shivering, but too bleary-eyed to find a dressing gown, Bill quickly tiptoed across his room and into the hallway towards the bathroom. A moment later, he was hopping around the hallway on one foot, biting back a yelp. Mick, who had essentially moved out of their flat and in with his wife over the holidays, had piled all of his remaining boxes in the corridor and Bill had forgotten to remember that they were there. Bill was pretty sure that these boxes contained everything that Mick didn't want Rose to find out about, and he entertained himself for a moment trying to imagine the Secretary Privy and former Head Girl Rose Brown floating to the ceiling in her green and silver Slytherin school robes. That amused him, and he excused the boxes and headed in to shower.

Over breakfast, Bill opened Empathy in Sorcery, A Complete History and Guide and began to read. If his youngest sibling and only sister was really a Healer, then he wanted to refresh his memory. He had to stop every few minutes, take a bite of toast, and shake his head. He was having a hard enough time believing that Ginny was grown up, let alone that she was in possession of powers that might very well make her the most sought-after witch of her generation. And he wasn't too sure about Harry, either. Sure, he was Ron's best friend, and the hero who had defeated and destroyed Voldemort, but when the Charmed Life photograph flashed into his head, Bill felt a definite sense of dislike for the boy. He still didn't know whether or not the snippet of conversation he'd overhead at Christmas dinner had anything to do with Ginny's Healing powers, or something else, but he did know that he'd be keeping an eye on Harry, and if he saw anything out of the ordinary, he couldn't be held responsible for a wayward hex or two.

Bill had been right not to want to wake up this morning. Gringotts was even more boring than usual today. Since the completion of the security spell reconstruction at Gringotts, Bill's position there had been tenuous. He had only agreed to stay in London to help his father, who seemed to take comfort in going over the various news and concerns of the Minister of Magic with his son over lunch. A few times they'd even ventured into Muggle London – Arthur Weasley's fascination with Muggles had not decreased in the slightest – and even in his current position, he had legitimate reasons for the interactions. Arthur had spent a large portion of the meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister staring at the television set and waxing philosophical about how there was no difference, really, between Muggles and wizarding folk – the Muggles had developed their own magic, and it was quite amazing… The Prime Minister, equally as fascinated with them, had seemed quite disappointed when Bill had told him no, his earring did not ward off evil spirits, and yes, his boots were made of alligator skin (they may have had to keep relations with select Muggle officials, but there was still quite a lot that Muggles were better off not knowing).

Bill seemed to be spending more of his time assisting his father in an unofficial capacity, and less time doing anything of use at Gringotts. The goblins were now using him to try to break the charms on vaults for new accounts. It was boring, mind-numbing work, which consisted of one hour's worth of spell-breaking and then seven hour's worth of report writing, explaining why he was able to break the security charms, but others probably might find it more difficult.

And it didn't help that for every ten minutes of boredom at work, he seemed to have a hundred thoughts of Fleur Delacour, who was, he knew, now working at Hogwarts. He'd overheard Ron's classmate Neville Longbottom telling someone else on New Year's Eve that life at Hogwarts wasn't so lonely since Fleur had arrived to help. She was helping to restore the wards and charms that had protected Hogwarts so well over the centuries. Bill had felt a strong sense of relief at the news, and told himself that it was only because she was such a skilled charmer and that meant that Hogwarts would be safe again.

Mick had been very helpful in explaining the biology and history of veela to Bill. Of course, it had taken several days for them to actually have their talk, as Mick had been busy with work and, as it later turned out, Rose. Bill had started to read the books he'd purchased at Flourish and Blotts anyway, but the contents had been so shocking that he'd tossed them aside several times, only to pick them up and try again.

"Most of those books were written by people who actually fell under a veela's spell," Mick had explained, trying to calm him down. "They're biased."

"This one," Bill said, holding up Veela ~ The Definitive Guide to the Undefinable Goddess, "was written by a woman."

Mick laughed. "Yeah, right. That woman spent years trying to bottle veela sweat to turn it into love charms. That's why she knows so much."

"So their sweat doesn't have the power to knock a man over?" Bill asked. He'd noticed that Fleur always seemed to smell lovely, but maybe that was just part of the enchantment.

"Great Merlin, man!" Mick had found this very amusing. "It depends on how often she bathes, of course. Anyway, your bird is only a quarter-veela, right?"

"She's not my bir – woman, whatever," he'd started to protest, but he hadn't really been in the mood.

Mick had ignored him anyway. "Quarter-veela," he explained, "are three-quarters human. Full veela can reproduce in two ways – by laying eggs, or by giving birth, like a human. The babies that are born by the eggs are full veela and the babies that are born like us are half-veela. Making any sense?"

Bill shook his head. "None at all. What determines how the baby is born? Do they just wake up and say 'I don't feel quite like laying an egg today…'"

"No… it depends on how they mate…"

"How many ways are there?"

"Well…" Mick looked like he wanted to laugh. "If they mate with a bird, then they lay an egg. If they mate with a human, then they give birth to a half-veela human."

"Mate with a what?"

"A bird. Veela are essentially shape-shifters. Oh, but don't worry though – they make sure everything fits before they, er, mate."

"So what does that mean?" None of this answered Bill's questions about the charm of a quarter-veela and whether she might be stronger than a love charm. "Can a quarter-veela shift shapes and all that stuff?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked Mick. "You're a human."

Bill reached for his copy of Women with Wings (And Beaks and Claws, so Watch It) and started to flip through the pages. Mick grabbed it away from him.

"Rubbish," Mick muttered, under his breath. "Quarter-veela have some power," he explained "They can turn the charm on and off, and occasionally, when extremely angry or upset, can even sprout the wings – " He paused and winked. "Ever see that happen before?"

Impatient, Bill asked the question that none of the books had answered. "Can a quarter-veela break through a Love Charm repellent?" he asked. Mick looked surprised.

"Nah," he said, dismissively. "They're not really that powerful. Perhaps on young boys, but otherwise, their charm is short-lived. A full veela will suck you in and bewitch you. All a quarter-veela can do is make you stare for a few minutes. There are no lasting effects, and certainly not enough power to break through even a weak Love Charm repellent. Don't tell me you…well I guess it couldn't do you a whole lot of harm, but… a bit paranoid, aren't we Bill?"

Bill hadn't answered. There had been a sinking feeling in his stomach that had continued to plague him on a daily basis, especially while at Gringotts. He'd been stupid and wrong and mistaken, and it had been killing him not to know Fleur's whereabouts. Now that he knew she was at Hogwarts, he spent his time wondering if he should go there, and if he did, would she speak to him, and besides, hadn't he ruined everything?

"Weasley!" There was a knock at his door, and Bill quickly charmed the three-dimensional floating puzzle he was trying to solve into his desk and headed for the door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"You know who this is, Weasley," barked a familiar, gruff goblin voice. "We are waiting for your report on vault 2877. If the locks are secure, the owners would like to start filling the vault first thing tomorrow morning."

Bill opened the door and smiled down at Barknap. "How do I know it's you? ID, please." After about the third month of Gringotts staff in London pretending not to know who he was, Bill had started to demand identification in return. The goblins seemed annoyed, but it gave Bill a small amount of satisfaction.

"This looks in order," said Bill, handing the identification card back to Barknap. However, just as the goblin opened his mouth to speak again, however, Bill brandished his wand and cast a Revealing Charm.

When the blue sparks and smoke had cleared, an irate goblin pushed past Bill into his office, and made a grab for the finished report on his desk.

"How long has this been complete?" Barknap asked, shaking the roll of parchment.

"Just rolled it and sealed it now," answered Bill. "You'll see that there are still a few weak spots behind the hinges. Someone will have to go back and work on that."

"You'll do it now, with Holgrip," said Barknap sternly.

Bill shook his head and grabbed for his cloak. "No can do," he answered, stepping through the doorway and motioning for Barknap to leave as well. "Got a meeting with the Minister."

Thinking that he could actually finally understand why people abused power when they had it, Bill headed over to the Ministry complex, and hoped that this wasn't going to be a very long meeting.

*

When he arrived at his father's office, Bill could tell that his wishes had not been granted. Rose Brown was already there, looking, Bill noted, very pretty, despite the fact that she kept running her fingers through her hair and pulling at large clumps of it, all the while talking in a business-like tone to Arthur.

"What's all this about hair?" Bill asked as his father waved him into the room. "Yours looks very nice today, Dad."

Rose cracked a smile, but continued in a serious voice. "We were discussing the hair charms for the orphans in Knockturn Alley and at St. Mungo's," she explained. "The Thinker in Cortona sent us a big package this morning, and it was full of wonderful advice."

Bill nodded at her to continue.

"She's written a spell for us to use to track them. That way, we can quickly find the ones that leave the orphanage, and we should be able to discover where they're hiding out in Knockturn Alley soon enough."

"How are you going to do that?" asked Bill. "Surround them with some sort of ward?"

Arthur patted his own bald head. "Hair. Something all children have, and homeless children have in abundance. Charm their hair."

"Is it a difficult charm to carry out?"

"It's written here," said Rose, handing him the letter. "It will be simple for the M.L.E.S. officers to perform it, even from a considerable distance. We've already tested the alert system. As long as the children don't cut their hair by themselves, it should work beautifully."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04