The Lewis House 82 страница

She lifted her head after a moment and squinted; the light outside the windows was dawn blue. It was too dark to be much later than five. Still tired, Hermione slumped back and shut her eyes, wanting to sleep a little longer.

But her eyes would not stay closed, and the shadows in the room seemed unfriendly; the dream had stirred something ugly and cold in her heart and she knew she couldn't sleep any more.

A scraping noise from the kitchen made Hermione jump; she tensed and listened, too highly strung to be immediately sensible. Crookshanks jumped to the floor and ran in the direction of the noise. A moment later, someone began to hum. Probably not a Death Eater, Hermione thought wryly, getting to her feet and shuffling into the kitchen to find Sirius already dressed for work. She leaned against the worktop.

"You're up early," she croaked.

Sirius whirled, but relaxed when he saw her. She wondered if he ever had bad dreams. Even if he did, he didn't look gaunt and shadowy today - rather he seemed extremely young and manic as he moved hurriedly about the kitchen. "Tea?"

Hermione nodded, and a cup materialized before her in the air. She closed her hands around it and felt warmer. "Thank you."

"Ginny's up too - at least, I saw her light."

Hermione was surprised. Ginny was like Ron that way; both of them slept until the last possible minute. "Oh, would you tell Ron I'm sorry I didn't visit last night? I meant to, but I fell asleep on the sofa."

"He already knows. Who do you think stopped by and covered you up?" Sirius winked.

"Oh." Hermione smiled into her tea and decided that she would visit the Notch tonight, and make it up to Ron.

"I'll tell him though," Sirius said. "And before I leave - I meant to tell you the other night that your spell sounds brilliant. How's it coming along?"

"Quickly." The last of Hermione's sleepiness ebbed away and she was glad to be awake. She could get some work done before she went to the Burrow. "It's mapped. I only need to test and adjust it… which is the problem, really. I can't exactly create a duplicate of a residual to test it on."

"Would you show me?" Sirius looked eager. "Remus said it's impressive." He smiled at her.

Hermione wasn't sure she trusted his smile. It seemed too charming for five in the morning. She remembered Ron's warning that she shouldn't give Sirius information, and she narrowed her eyes. "It won't work on the Dementors, you know. It's too small."

"No, I understand." Sirius looked a bit sheepish. "I wasn't entirely myself the other night. I am interested in the spell for personal reasons, but I'm not entirely selfish - not entirely." He smiled again. "I hope it's effective, Hermione. It would be…"

"Miraculous." Hermione laughed a little, trying to keep her spirits light. "Still, I have to try. Yes, I'll show you - my wand's in the living room."

Sirius followed her into the front room, where she put down her tea and picked up her wand.

"This is only the map," she said, and chanted the spell as she flicked her wand to show him.

The room lit up in strange, dancing red and blue shadows, and a golden light washed over the two of them. Gaping, Sirius reached out his hands and dragged his fingers through the illusion.

"Hermione," he said, sounding impressed.

"It's not very complicated," she said happily. It was nice to be thought impressive by a wizard like Sirius. "You've made far more complex maps - the Marauder's Map has about a thousand more levels -"

"What are the blue rays?"

"The tears. The path the tears will take."

Sirius studied it for several minutes, and continued to ask questions until he seemed satisfied. "And you'll use it on both of your parents at once, or -?"

"Both at once. Because it's small, but very powerful and it… it's going to affect the whole room. The area of the room. And I don't know how it will affect me, when I cast it…" Hermione trailed off. "I'm going to need help. I haven't done enough really big magic."

Sirius glanced at her. "I don't know about that," he said.

"Not on people. Not by myself."

"Well, if you want help casting it, I'd be happy to assist. So would Remus, I imagine. In fact, he'll probably insist."

Hermione nodded, flicked her wrist, and watched the shimmering map dissolve.

"Thanks for showing me," Sirius said, looking very thoughtful. "If you have it drawn up on parchment, I'd like to make a copy - just to study," he protested, when Hermione gave him a shrewd look. "I was a halfway decent student, once upon a time." He grinned, and headed to the hallway. "I'd like to try a little Thinking of my own. See you later."

Hermione turned away and rolled her eyes. The arrogance of him, expecting to be able to Think properly, when he'd never even studied the process. Then again, he was the sort of person who made up Marauder's Maps, and he had turned himself into an Animagus when he was just fifteen. Perhaps his arrogance was deserved.

Just as she heard the soft pop of Disapparation that meant that Sirius had gone to work, Hermione also heard a noise in the study. She went towards it. Perhaps Remus was already awake, and she could ask him to help her with the spell. It was ready to be tested. She was almost certain.

But it was Ginny who sat in the study, cross-legged in a big stuffed chair by the fire, idly stirring a cauldron while she pored over papers in her lap.

"Flight maintenance," she said dully, when Hermione came in, "is achieved by: A. Continued concentration. B. Charms pre-placed within the given vehicle. C. Parallel arithmantic paths. D. A, B and C - or E. Both B and C."

"What is this?"

Ginny sighed. "Practice N.E.W.T. exams in Magic Theory. This is exam number one. Charms."

"Sirius said he saw your light upstairs, I didn't even hear you come down."

"I Apparated, I'm lazy."

Hermione hardly agreed. It wasn't yet six in the morning and Ginny was working on Wolfsbane Potion and studying for exams at the same time. "Do you know the answer?"

Ginny chewed her lip for a minute. "It's D or E, isn't it?"

Hermione winced apologetically. "No, it's B. Concentration is good for getting the broom to hover, but flight maintenance is all charm work - think about it. When you're flying it’s not like doing spell work, you don't have to keep the idea of flying in your mind the whole time. And the arithmantic paths in flight charms aren't parallel - they're interlocking. Webbed. You know, like a net, for support."

Ginny hung her head and groaned. "Take my exams for me," she demanded. "Use a Polyjuice Potion."

"I can't, that's cheating."

"I'm joking." Ginny lifted her head and laughed. "Unless you change your mind, of course. I'd love to get a hundred N.E.W.T.s." She leaned over the cauldron and peered at her potion, then sat back and kept stirring. "Why are you up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I had a nightmare. And I have things to do, so I didn't bother trying to go back to sleep."

Hermione pulled the other study chair close to Ginny's; she sat down and touched Ginny's arm. "I'm sorry," she said. She had used to be there to help Ginny with the nightmares, but lately she had often slept at Ron's, and had forgot all about it.

"Oh, it wasn't a bad one." Ginny shrugged. "Just a weird one. Very short. I dreamed the ceiling in the Great Hall was falling - I dreamed I saw what happened to Blaise Zabini, and I wasn't even in there for that. I never have dreams about that day."

Hermione stared at her.

"What?" Ginny demanded.

"I… that was the same dream I was having." Hermione frowned. "The same nightmare."

"Oh!" Ginny looked extremely pleased. "Then I'm feeling dreams - that's so good - that means I'm really far along. Other Healers have said that in the early stages of their human healing development, when they were finally getting a grasp on what they would be able to accomplish, they started feeling dreams. It doesn't last, apparently. It's not something I'll always do, it's just a phase. The Empathy is tuning itself while I sleep, because it's trying to reach its potential. At least, that's what the books say. My extra sense searches out trouble in the household or environment around me, and sort of… teaches itself." She looked pensively into her lap. "I'm so close now," she said to herself. "Almost there."

"It's a shame they don't offer a N.E.W.T. in Empathic Magic."

"I know!" Ginny looked up. "I love studying Healing. But then, it's relevant." She looked down at her practice papers. "This stuff isn't. And it's boring."

Hermione bit her tongue. It was all very relevant to her.

"It's relevant," came Remus's scratchy voice from the doorway. He'd crept up on them silently and was watching Ginny's progress with the potion. "And exciting, in my opinion. Perhaps your professor is to blame - a boring professor is the death of any subject." He grinned a bit and looked at Hermione. "Spell work at the Burrow today?" he asked.

She nodded. "But not until this afternoon. Fleur wants the morning to herself, to sort out a few kinks in her own spell casting before we adjust the spell again."

"Well, you've got some time to spare," Remus said. "It's barely seven now. Perhaps you'd like to take over Ginny's morning lessons?"

Ginny's eyes widened in something like horror and Hermione laughed. "No, no…" she said. "If you're boring, I can't imagine what I'd be."

Remus sat down on the sofa. "I have to admit, I'm not much in the mood for teaching a proper lesson, today. I've just had an idea."

"Well?" Ginny said, when Remus did not continue to reveal what was going on in his head.

"I think I can prove to you just how relevant and important charm work can be." Remus turned to address Hermione. "How's that Weeping Spell coming along?"

Hermione felt her stomach tighten with anticipation. "It's… it's as far as it can be, I think, without actually trying it," she said slowly. "Do you – would you be able to work with me on it this morning?"

"I think now is as good of a time as any. Ginny can see how important it is to understand the arithmantic properties behind spells and enhance her Empathic powers; you can test the accuracy of your Thinking abilities; and I can practice a powerful spell – something I haven't done in quite a while."

"Really?" Hermione found that she was not frightened. She wanted to try it. She had to know. "You think it's all right to just go and try it on my parents, right now?"

"As soon as Ginny's dressed." Remus rose from the sofa.

Hermione couldn't help herself; she clapped her hands together and grinned - and then suddenly her stomach gave a terrified lurch after all. "Remus?" she asked nervously. "If we're going to try this, I don't think I can… I'll need some help, because it's a really powerful spell, and – "

Remus stopped to touch her arm on his way to the door. "Of course I'll help," he said. "I was going to insist."

"Sirius said you would."

"And to think, Divination was always his worst subject. I'm going to have some toast," Remus said. "Let's meet back here in half an hour, if you can wait that long."

Hermione nodded, and as soon as he left, turned to Ginny, who was still stirring the Wolfsbane Potion.

"Is it all right with you, Ginny?" Hermione asked. "I mean, we'll need your help sensing their auras after the spell is cast and I know that the last time you were near them it was difficult. I don't want to – "

Ginny waved a hand at her. "This is wonderful," she said. "I was so busy with N.E.W.T. preparation that I never finished my Transfiguration essay. Besides, I told you, I want to try to help your parents. I can't think of a better use for my skills right now."

Heading upstairs for a quick preparatory meditation before they departed to St. Mungo's, Hermione decided that it wouldn't be too detrimental to allow Ginny access to just a few of her old Transfiguration essays. It was all that she had to give at the moment, and seemed a minor price to pay for the opportunity to see her parents laugh and smile again.

~*~

Ginny pulled her white St. Mungo's labcoat tighter around her, and looked through the window of the door to the Grangers' hospital room. She had wanted to be inside the room while they performed the spell, but Remus and Hermione had insisted that she leave. Both of them had been afraid that any change in the room's emotion could have a negative effect on her.

Remus was standing on Mr. Granger's side of the bed. His back was to Ginny, and from his stance, she could tell that he was apprehensive, yet calm. Hermione, standing in front of her mother, had her eyes closed and kept nodding her head, as if trying to reassure herself. The Grangers, unaware of what was about to happen although Hermione had told them, lay in their bed, their open eyes staring straight ahead, frozen in terror. Ginny shivered.

Hermione opened her eyes. For a moment, she looked like her parents – her eyes were wide and glassy, and the expression on her face, though not one of terror, was one of tense anticipation. She nodded once, said something, and both she and Remus raised their wands over the bed. They stayed like that for what seemed like a very long time, and Ginny could almost feel her own arm hurting. Then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, Hermione lowered her wand with a flourish so that the tip hovered just over her mother's head; Remus mirrored her action over Mr. Granger. Together, they chanted Experiri Lacrimus Salacium! so loudly that Ginny heard it in the hallway and felt something come loose inside her as well.

When Hermione had shown Ginny the spell at Lupin Lodge, she'd been impressed. But that had been nothing compared to what was happening inside the Grangers' room. This was real magic – not some simple Summoning Charm. This was like the Patronus spell, and the Sacrifice spell, and Ginny wondered how many witches and wizards would ever have a chance to see so many powerful things in their lifetimes. She hoped that there wouldn't be a need ever again.

The points of light from the spell formed an enormous canopy over the Grangers' bed. They hovered for a moment, and then, like lightning, shot down and connected with hundreds of points along the Grangers' bodies. The light seemed to be pulsating, and the red knots – the pain knots – that Ginny had seen when the spell had been performed in theory, did not seem to be appearing. Was the spell working? She hadn't considered the possibility that it could fail, that it might not be effective. Lacrimus Salacium seemed to be having an effect on her, even from outside the room, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. She checked Hermione's face for a sign of disappointment, or defeat, but Hermione looked confident now – her chin was up and her mouth slightly open. The spell was causing air to move in the room and Ginny could see papers rustling on the night table.

Finally, the streams of light that were streaking into the Grangers started to change color. It was a deeper, darker red – almost like blood, than it had been in the spell when Ginny had seen it earlier. It flowed upwards from the Grangers, using the pathways of lights as veins, and then, at the top, the veins thickened, blurred and began twisting and turning around each other.

Ginny's head began to pound, and she put both hands over her stomach; she was going to be sick. It hurt. Now that it was being released from the Grangers' bodies, she could feel the residual of the Cruciatus Curse in the air around her - the walls and door could not block it out - Ginny had to struggle to breathe. Was this what it felt like to be hit by an Unforgivable - or was this only half the pain of it? She wasn't screaming, she wasn't on the floor; this couldn't be the whole of it, but it was enough to be torturous. Clutching her stomach and fighting to stay quiet, she leaned heavily on the door and watched as Hermione and Remus continued to work. The Grangers' beds were shaking.

Now the red streaks were forming knots and colliding with brutal ferocity. Instead of bouncing off each other, they coalesced and merged, forming an enormous, rotating ball of anguish and terror, making Ginny dizzy with pain and fear. The Cruciatus was horrible. Horrible. And Ron had suffered it too - Harry had endured it - Remus and Sirius had felt it in their lifetimes - Ginny knew now how lucky she was to have escaped this curse in its full force. She stifled a moan and squinted through the window as the light in the whole room changed to gold, almost as if the sun were rising.

Crack! Ginny stumbled back from the door a few inches, and clutched at her heart. The noise had come from inside the Grangers' room, and with it, the pain in her body lessened by half. She could breathe freely. When she had recovered herself and aligned her face once more with the window in the door, she could see that Hermione and Remus had both jumped back a few inches from the bed as well. Hermione's face was damp and glowing and Remus's hair was plastered to his head, as if the room had filled with moisture. Expecting to see the bluish tears from her earlier view of the spell, Ginny was surprised to see instead that the red ball had split into two pieces and they were both rotating over the Grangers' bodies. A look of comprehension passed over Hermione's face, and she said something to Remus that Ginny couldn't hear.

Together, they raised their wands again, and each pointed them at a different red orb. With a swift downward movement, they both lowered their wands, and the orbs came crashing down to the Grangers, bursting upon impact with their bodies and seeming to diffuse and pulse through them so that it was almost like Ginny was actually seeing an aura with her eyes, rather than feeling it with her mind. She gasped at the beauty of it, and in surprise, because she hadn't been able to sense it when she'd been in the room with the Grangers before. She allowed the door to support her as she continued to watch.

There was a sudden calm. The room seemed instantly to return to its normal lighting and appearance. The papers stopped moving, the bed stopped shaking, and Hermione and Remus returned to their earlier stances of anticipation. Ginny felt incredible relief as the remainder of the residual ebbed away and stopped causing her pain - and then she felt a stab of disappointment. Where were the tears? Hermione was watching something on her mother's face, and Ginny turned her attention there as well.

She gasped.

Tears. She could see them. They were brighter, and more… opaque than her own tears, which continued to wet her face. Mr. Granger had them too. Their eyes were still open, and they still looked terrified, but their faces were damp, and these tears seemed to flow down their cheeks and into their open mouths, as if trying to feed them relief. And then, slowly, the eyelids closed, and for the first time since being hit with the Cruciatus Curse, the Grangers looked almost peaceful.

The tears were rolling down Hermione's face as well, and Remus crossed the room to embrace her. After a moment, he released her and said something that made Hermione laugh. Neither could take their eyes away from the Grangers. The tears had stopped, but not dried, and Hermione fell to her knees and peered closely into her mother's face. Remus looked over the door, and smiled at Ginny. He said something to Hermione, and she nodded, and they both motioned to Ginny to enter the room.

Ginny opened the door cautiously, not wanting to disrupt any magic that might still be floating through the room. Not wanting to walk into any remainder of that horrible curse that might still be in the air.

"Is it … finished?" she asked. The room looked calm, but Ginny stayed back.

"Come closer, Ginny," Remus said, motioning to Mr. Granger. "I think it will be all right if you want to try some preliminary sensing. Don't think of Healing yet. Just assess the situation."

Hermione was still breathing hard; she looked exhausted. "Did you feel anything out there?" she asked faintly.

"No," Ginny lied, and walked over to the side of the bed. She stood still for a moment, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held her hands over Mr. Granger's head, not knowing what to expect – not expecting to feel anything. But something was there. It wasn't like the knots she'd felt around Harry and Ron. Nor was it like the searing points of pain she'd felt around Draco. This was shapeless, and formless – more like a fog. But thicker. Like a heavy glue or a very-thick potion. It was suffocating. Something was damaged. Physically. The aura was trying to heal but finding resistance and it could not adhere to their bodies. It was the most sickening thing Ginny had ever felt.

Curious, she let her hands hover lower, trying to break through the fog. Her fingers began to tingle, and she could feel something unpleasant swirling beneath them. It was familiar. Ginny realized it was the same pain that she'd felt earlier from the Grangers, but it was weakening. Dissipating. After about a minute, her hands began to throb and she pulled them away with a sharp intake of breath.

When she opened her eyes, Hermione and Remus were staring at her with hopeful expressions. She smiled.

"I think… I think it's working, Hermione."

Hermione looked very much like she wanted to cry, but she kept her lips pursed together. Ginny continued. "I can feel an aura. It's not formed, but it's there. And the pain is still there too, but it's a bit less than it was." She thought for a moment. "Hermione, how often can you perform this spell?"

"I'm not sure. I think that once a day would be all right, but I don't think it would be good to do more than that. It's exhausting for me, so I'd be afraid to try it again right away. I don't want to hurt them."

"That's okay," Ginny said. Walking over to Mrs. Granger's side of the bed, and testing, for a moment, whether the spell had affected her the same as her husband. "If it works this well each time, then I think I can start to work on them soon. If I can get so that I can have at least five minutes on each of them, to start, then I can really help. I hope." She paused and looked away for a moment. There was something else she wanted to tell Hermione, and it wasn't going to be easy.

"What is it, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"They're… you should just know, Hermione, that I think there's actual physical damage to them. And I have to study that more, because so far, I've mostly been dealing with external sensations and very localized injuries. But this feels… larger, somehow. Like it's in their skin, or their tissue. I think it's going to take a lot of work."

Hermione nodded and squeezed Ginny's hand. "I'll help you research," was all she said, and Ginny laughed.

A knock at the door caused all of them to raise their heads, and Ginny saw Neville Longbottom's round face peering through the window. She smiled and motioned to him to come in. He did so, but stayed back, near the door, away from them. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and, looking around, she could understand why. They all looked a mess – Hermione's hair was sticking out all over the place, Ginny was sure that her own face was red, and the bed, she noticed, had actually moved so that it was sitting at an angle across the room.

"I, er, just came to see how your parents were doing," he said. "I was just down the hall, so I thought…" His voice trailed off. "Are they crying?"

Hermione quickly explained to Neville what they were trying to do. He looked amazed. When she was done, he shook his head. "You've always been brilliant, Hermione," he said, with admiration. Then he turned to Ginny, and his face grew serious. "You're a … Healer. Do you realize… that's… I … " Neville blushed and recovered himself. "I always knew there was something special about you," he said.

"Thanks," Ginny said, feeling pleased.

"I wish you all had been around when my parents… " he started, but something occurred to Ginny, and she interrupted him.

"Neville," she said. "Do you think I could… would you let me see your parents? They're in a better condition than the Grangers, and perhaps I can learn something by comparing them to each other."

"Sure," Neville said, looking, as always, surprised that someone would bother to help him with something. "When?"

"How about now?" she said, and heard Remus sigh behind her. She turned to him and smiled.

"It's Saturday," she said. "This won't take long."

She hugged Remus and Hermione both, and headed down the hall with Neville. The curtains in his parents' room were drawn, and it was very dark. His parents were both sitting at a little table, attempting to play cards, although Ginny wasn't sure how they could see what they were doing.

Neville gave a laugh that sounded almost frustrated. "They're being paranoid," he said. "Although I suppose I can't blame them. Every once in a while, they think someone's going to hex them from that Muggle building across the street. So they cover everything so that they can't be seen."

Ginny touched his arm in sympathy. "That's terrible," she said.

He shrugged. "I suppose. I laugh at them now and they seem to enjoy that. Watch."

Approaching his parents, Neville clapped a hand on his father's shoulder. His father jumped in his chair, and cards went flying everywhere.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Mr. Longbottom asked.

Mrs. Longbottom screeched.

"I work here," Neville said. "And so does Ginny. She's come to check and make sure that you're okay." Ginny was glad she was wearing her St. Mungo's coat.

"Well!" Mr. Longbottom said. "You certainly frightened me. Anyone could just come in here and hex us, you know. Can't be too careful."

"I think you're being a bit paranoid," Neville said. Ginny had never heard him sound so confident about anything.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04