The Lewis House 95 страница

Ginny wanted to ask where they were going, but they hadn't been familiar in so long that she simply couldn't bring herself to do it. She only nodded. "Okay…" she said, but still couldn't work out why he would have been heading up the stairs.

"I was just going to use the loo-" Harry managed, still not looking at her. "We were supposed to leave half an hour ago, and I didn't think -" He stopped, but Ginny knew what he was going to say. I didn't think you'd be here. I didn't think I'd have to see you. He radiated every kind of emotion. He felt… agitated and nervous. Excited. Shy. Reserved and unsure. Defensive and vulnerable. And underneath it were the currents of his past, his power, his pride and bravery and goodness. He felt like Harry, and Ginny had so missed his energy near her that she wanted to fall into it and shut her eyes and drown.

Instead, she blocked it. She didn't have any right to step into his feelings. They were private, and he probably didn't want her in them. "Don't… don't let me keep you," she finally said and hurried past him, out of the front room and into the study, where she shut the door and tried to breathe, her heart beating double. He was in the house. He was in the house.

Feeling very much eleven, Ginny went to the cauldron and worked on her Potions assignment to calm her mind. It was a two-day potion that had been bubbling since yesterday morning's lesson, and she was determined to get it right. She stirred with exact strokes until it looked just as it was described in her textbook, and then she put down the stirring rod and tapped her fingers on her thighs. Remus would need to come and see it, so that he could mark it.

"Remus?" She stuck her head out of the door, hoping that he would come to her. She didn't want to walk through the house; she didn't want to see Harry again.

Yes I do.

Ginny went toward the sound of voices in the kitchen. She could hear Sirius and Remus. She could not hear Harry. But she was unsurprised, when she pushed the door open, to see him standing against the worktop, participating silently in the conversation. He glanced at her, and she quickly flicked her eyes away to Remus as her face went hot.

"Do you have a minute to look in my cauldron?" she asked. "I'm finished."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Excellent," he said, and turned to Sirius. "I'll be right back." He went past Ginny and towards the study. Ginny turned to follow him, but Sirius's voice stopped her.

"I don't think it's possible, Ron. And you shouldn't be talking about this."

Ginny stayed near the door and looked into the dining room, where Ron and Hermione sat at the table, eating crisps and looking through enormous books. Ron had been buried in work since Sirius's suspension; he was now entirely responsible for continuing work on Malfoy's case, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I'm not asking for specific advice on a case or anything," said Ron, flicking open another book. "Just making conversation. Say, hypothetically, that a prisoner with a bad attitude and a pasty face -"

"Ron," Sirius said warningly. But he looked amused.

"Say that this prisoner was trying to get off on a technicality, but that he didn't get off, and we did try to convict him in a trial."

Sirius nodded.

"And say that I needed to bring a witness to the stand…" Ron's gaze settled on Ginny. "But that she was under contract not to speak about what she knew."

Ginny gave him a dirty look.

"Hypothetically," Ron reminded her, putting up his hands to show his innocence. "Did I say anything specific?"

"Subtle as a Bludger, aren't you, Ron?" Remus asked, coming back into the kitchen and carrying a little vial of potion in his hand. He pointed to Sirius. "You're going to taint this case, if you're not careful."

"He needs my help," Sirius pleaded. "I'm allowed to help. I can't just not do anything for six weeks."

"You're fortunate it wasn't six months," Remus said, shooting Sirius a narrow glare. He looked as though he would have liked to say more, but he shut his mouth in a line and breathed hard through his nose.

Ginny could feel the tension at work in the room; it raced around her like webs, tangling her up in its complexity. She knew - they all did - what Sirius had attempted at Azkaban, and she knew that it had nearly cost him his life. She couldn't believe that he would do something so stupid - it would have destroyed Remus and Harry to lose him, not to mention being horrible for the rest of them, and it would have cut short his excellent influence in the Ministry and in the Order. He was no better than she was, and she dearly would have loved to point that out. But the lecture was not hers to give, and she knew he'd already been shouted at by the people who deserved most to shout. Not to mention that he had been officially censured - she knew it was killing him not to be able to work. But her father, Rose Brown, and Charlie and Mick had decided that six weeks was the shortest suspension they could possibly impose.

Sirius pushed his hair back and his eyes were a bit wild. "Don't…" he began, and then shook his head and looked down. "All right."

"I have a question," Harry asked suddenly, and a lovely chill went across Ginny's shoulders and down her spine. His voice was beautiful. She missed it.

"Well?" Sirius pressed, when Harry stayed quiet.

"It's… Malfoy," Harry said slowly. "I want to know what sort of power he had over the Dementors."

Ginny's lungs constricted. How did Harry know? Had she let something slip?

"They started to lose control when Malfoy left," Harry continued, "and they got worse every day - they've hit a plateau now, but it's still bad. They haven't gone back to being calm, not even for a minute. There has to be a connection - I think Moody was on to something."

Moody? Ginny looked at each of their faces and realized that, somehow, they all knew something that she did not. She had the nasty feeling that they were back in school and that she had been excluded from a very important secret.

"Yeah?" Ron got to his feet and came to stand in the kitchen door. "Is there any proof? Anything at all that you can think of?"

"Harry, you don't honestly think it was Malfoy doing all that, do you?" Hermione asked, leaning back in her chair so that she could see past Ron. She sounded slightly worried. "I know the Dementors have gone wild, but it seems like a bit of a reach to blame it all on Malfoy, even if he is..."

"I know it doesn't make sense," Harry said.

"It makes sense," Ron said vehemently. "It makes sense if Malfoy was doing what I said all along. He was doing something - I don't know - he was doing something."

"Like what?" Sirius leaned back against the worktop and gestured for Ron to take the floor. "You can't just accuse him without -"

"Evidence, yes I know." Ron narrowed his eyes. "I'll work on it."

"If Malfoy's absence is what's causing the problem," Sirius went on, "it would mean that while he was up there he was -"

"Controlling the Dementors."

Ginny clasped her hands behind her back and began to twist her fingers.

"And that's impossible," Sirius said. "No one's ever been able to control Dementors when they didn't want to be controlled, not even Dumbledore -"

"Except Voldemort." Ron looked furious. "So Malfoy was probably using some evil Dark magic that none of us knows about because we're all decent wizards -"

"Malfoy was eighteen and still in school when Voldemort was destroyed," Sirius interrupted. "I want to see him in prison, Ron, but we have yet to see evidence of any school-aged person having been given a Dark Mark and employed directly in Voldemort's service. It's highly unlikely that Malfoy had been taught any serious magic by Voldemort -"

"No, his dad taught him," Ron said heatedly. "It makes perfect sense. You know it does - he has to know things that his dad knew."

Or have things that belonged to his dad, thought Ginny, and she wished that she could say it. The conversation was excruciating. Still, she told herself, she didn't know exactly what the ring was capable of. She only knew it harbored something horrible.

Sirius opened his mouth, shut it again and nodded. "All right. It's a worthwhile theory."

Ron looked very smug.

"But where's your proof?"

Ron's smug look vanished. "I haven't got any," he muttered. "But that doesn't make me wrong, and I'm sure that if we just…" He trailed off. A light came into his eyes, and he fixed his gaze on Ginny, who drew warily back.

"What?" she asked.

"You know something," he said. "You have to know something."

"Ron…" Sirius sighed. "You can't."

"I can." He crossed his arms. "Ginny, you don't have to keep quiet. I've looked it up. Self-imposed oaths don't have any legal weight, you can talk whenever you like."

"This one isn't self imposed," Ginny said, trying hard to keep her temper. "I signed it before I went over there." It was not the first time Ron had pressed her for confidential information. And though she wanted nothing more than to be useful to her brothers and her father - and to Harry, who looked so tired and worn - there was nothing that any of them could say to make her go back on her signature. So she shook her head.

"No, you don't know anything?" Ron demanded. "Or no, you won't tell us?"

She didn't answer or move. Any reply would have given away more information than she was allowed. She could feel all their eyes on her, and she wondered what they thought of her for keeping her contract - she wondered if Harry thought she was still defending Malfoy. She wondered if he had honestly believed, even for one second, that she had shared anything more intimate than a Healing session with Malfoy. He probably did, and her silence would only drive that belief deeper.

But she didn't have a choice.

"Ginny," Ron said, and he sounded really angry, "are you really going to make me get official permission to drag this out of you? You can't keep a privileged silence, you're not a licensed mediwizard -"

"I work at St. Mungo's!" Ginny said hotly.

"So what? You work on your own, you're not part of any recognized body, Healers don't even have a legal category -"

"Maybe because there's just the one of us?" Ginny clenched her fists. "You're not going to convince me, Ron, I don't care if you won't recognize my oath. I do."

"Ginny, it's Malfoy!" Ron had gone a strangled shade of red. "You can't hide information that could potentially let him walk free to do more damage -"

"Leave her alone." Harry's voice was dead even, and Ron went silent at once. "She can't answer you, she signed a contract. It doesn't matter if it's Malfoy."

Ginny gazed at him, shocked.

So did everyone else, and the silence in the room was thick and strange. Ron looked like he would have liked to throw something. But Hermione caught Ginny's eye for just a moment, and then she looked back down at her books, smiling faintly.

"I… need a volunteer," Remus said, before the silence could stretch to the point of discomfort, and Ginny looked at him, a bit confused. What did a volunteer have to do with anything? "Not to change the subject," he went on, "but if there's anyone who has a cut or scrape, I'd like to test this potion." He held up the little vial of Ginny's homework. "I can't mark it until I know if it's effective. That is… I could. But this might be more interesting."

"What potion is it?" Hermione asked. "Skin Regrowth?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor." Remus smiled through the kitchen doorway at Hermione, who looked as if she had missed hearing the words. She beamed. "I'm in perfect condition, myself," Remus said, and grinned a little. "And I'm not really in the mood to give myself a paper cut, so if anyone has an injury I could - ah. Thank you, Harry."

Harry had rolled up his sleeve, pulled back a bandage he'd obviously applied himself, and offered the skin just above his wrist. It was marred by a red, wet-looking circle about the size of a Galleon. Around the wound, the skin had gone slightly yellow and started to curl.

Ginny sucked in a breath at the sight of it. "How did you -"

"Got burnt," he said simply. "Didn't put my shield up fast enough."

"Did it occur to you to go to the mediwizarding tent?" Sirius grabbed Harry's hand and took a closer look.

"Yes, actually, it did." Harry shrugged. "But then I forgot. I just wanted to get home."

"Well." Remus cupped a hand under Harry's forearm and tilted the vial over the nasty-looking welt. "Let's hope Ginny was meticulous."

Harry gave Remus a quick, nervous look, and Ginny bit down on the inside of her lip. She held the flesh tightly in her teeth and watched the potion drip down onto Harry's burn, hoping that she had got it right. She felt very much as though she were back in Snape's classroom, where it had never been an empty threat that he would test any number of things on any of them, whether the potions were ruined or not. That had always been terrifying, and it was no different now - though at least Remus wouldn't leer with pleasure if the potion did burn Harry's arm off.

Harry hissed in pain and winced as the potion met the open wound and made a sizzling noise. "Feels about right," he muttered.

And then, to Ginny's great relief, the skin around the burn uncurled. It stretched from all sides towards the center, and the flesh met seamlessly over the wound. It settled, after a minute, and looked like regular skin. It was nearly the right color, if a bit shinier and pinker than the rest of his arm - but then, that was the way burns healed. Charlie had loads of those.

Harry prodded it with a finger, then nodded. "Nice one," he said. "She should get…" He pretended to consider. "At least seven out of ten."

"I should get ten," she protested, but she had to smile. He was joking with her, and she had been allowed to help him, at least a little bit. She had given him something. Harry traced his finger over the surface of the healed burn, and Ginny took an involuntary step towards him. "You're sure it doesn't hurt?"

"No." He glanced up at her. "Thanks for that. I…" But he stopped, took his finger from his burn, and dropped his hands to his sides. The room was very quiet and everyone was watching them, and Ginny knew that Harry felt as awkward about it as she did. Perhaps they were all glad to see that she and Harry were talking, but she wished they wouldn't stare. She wished they weren't there. For a moment she had felt alone with Harry, and it had seemed quite natural to share something with him. They had been headed towards… a conversation. They needed one, no matter the outcome - even if it was just to hear him say that he only wanted to be friends.

Ginny's stomach hurt at the thought.

"We're going to miss the film," Harry said suddenly, breaking the silence. He rolled down his sleeve and nodded at Sirius. "It starts in five minutes."

"Film?" Hermione pushed her chair back and came to stand beside Ron, looking intrigued. "Are you really going to the cinema?"

"Yes," Harry said. He pulled his wand. "Come if you want, but we have to leave now."

"What's the fillum?" Ron asked.

"The Matrix," said Sirius. "Looks like a good one - all action."

"And how would you know?" Remus asked suspiciously. "Since when do you keep up with Muggle films?"

"I saw the trailer for this one at -"

Harry elbowed him, and Sirius shut his mouth on a snicker.

"Sure, I'll go - let's all go!" Ron said, far too brightly for a person who had just been so angry. He pulled his wand. "Ginny, don't you think that'd be fun?"

Ginny shook her head, carefully not looking at Harry. Was Ron trying to set them up? "I've got school work."

"You can finish it tomorrow, it's the weekend -"

"No."

"Come on, it'll be great -"

"Don't, Ron," said Hermione, in a low voice. "That's enough."

Ron scowled. "All she ever says is no, lately. No to the cinema, no, she won't tell me what she knows about Malfoy -"

"She signed a contract," Harry said sharply.

The room lapsed back into waiting silence, and Ginny's pulse raced. It was intoxicating to hear him stand up for her.

"Thank you," she managed, her voice dry.

Harry's eyes flashed to her face, and he looked at her for a moment that felt unnaturally long, especially considering that everyone was still watching. When he finally shook himself and looked away, Ginny felt as if the floor had disappeared from under her. She needed him back.

Harry raised his wand. "Look, I don’t want to miss it," he said to Sirius. "So I'm going."

"All right, all right." Sirius pulled his wand and Disapparated.

Harry flicked his wand, and a bit of parchment materialized in the air before him. He shot it across the room to Ron. "That's the address of the cinema - it faces south, make sure to Apparate behind the place so the Muggles don't see you."

"Right." Ron studied the paper for a moment, then tried to pass it to Hermione.

"No thanks," Hermione said. "I'll stay here."

Ron ruffled her hair and Disapparated.

Ginny wasn't certain if Harry's eyes really met hers or if she imagined it, and there was no time to comprehend the look on his face. An instant later, he had disappeared as well. She ached for him to come back - there was no point in being in the room without him. An hour ago, she had been almost reconciled to their falling out, but now the loss was deep and sharp again.

"Ginny?" Remus's voice was gentle.

She realized that she was staring at the spot where Harry had just been, and quickly moved her gaze to the first person she found. Hermione was watching her with sympathetic eyes, and Ginny gave her a meaningful look.

"I'm going to go and study," Ginny said, hoping that Hermione would follow her. "I'll be upstairs for a bit." She left the kitchen and was relieved when she heard a chair move, and footsteps follow behind her.

Hermione was in their room in a flash, shutting the door behind her. "Well?" she asked.

Ginny sat on the edge of her bed. "Well what?" She threw up her hands. "He left."

Hermione leaned against the door and crossed her arms. "At least you were talking."

"We weren't really talking." Ginny flopped onto her back. "We were just in the same room, that's all."

"You were talking. And he defended you."

Ginny was glad that there had been a witness. She wasn't imagining things. He had stood up for her.

"He misses you."

Ginny turned her head on her pillow and pinned Hermione with a look. "Did he tell you that?"

"I'm under a contract of complete confidentiality," Hermione said, smiling slightly. "Just trust me, all right? He's like this. He misses you. He doesn't know what to say. If you'd just say something to him, Ginny."

"Like what? What else should I say to him?" Ginny clenched her covers in her hands and shut her eyes. "I wish I'd never worked on Malfoy," she muttered. "Then we wouldn't have this problem." But she knew that she was wrong.

"Yes you would. It would've been over something else. Harry's…" Hermione paused. "Harry's hard to fight with. I had a horrible fight with him once. Ron did too. It always lasts for ages, and he never wants to apologize. He just wants it to be over."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"No, but…" Hermione's footsteps came closer. She sat on the edge of Ginny's bed and Ginny opened her eyes and looked up at her. "I'm not a Healer or anything, but I've been Harry's friend for a long time, and at the beginning I didn't understand why he was so terrible about holding grudges, but I think I understand it now. It's like… a test."

Ginny waited.

"He has to test. I don't know why. I imagine it's because he didn't have a regular childhood. I imagine he has a hard time believing people really love him, all the way through." Hermione shrugged. "He tested me. He stopped talking to me for a month - over a broom, can you believe him?" She snorted. "But he got over it, and we never really fought again. Not in a serious way. I passed that test - I still loved him, even though we'd had a fight. The fight went away, and I didn't. Does that make sense? Oh, it was much worse with Ron because Ron meant so much to him - you remember when Ron got in a huff about the Goblet of Fire? How jealous he was?"

Ginny nodded.

"Harry wouldn't speak to him for a month, but then the same thing happened - when that was over, Ron had passed. Harry knew they could fight, and Ron wouldn't leave. And they never had another fight like that, because there was no reason for it. Harry knows Ron loves him. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Ginny thought she did. "He did it to Sirius, this year," she said slowly. "He was really hard on him. He didn't talk to him for a long time, and then… now it seems they're friends."

"Exactly. He does it to everyone he needs most. It's his way of… I don’t know. Making sure he's loved unconditionally."

"I do love him unconditionally."

"I know."

"But then I… I gave him conditions because there are things I… and perhaps I shouldn't have been so… Hermione, it wasn't even a row, it was just that he said some things…" But Ginny couldn't explain. What Harry had shared was his business alone. "It was just me making demands and him not really answering."

Hermione looked at her with clear, comforting eyes. "I'm sure you're being too hard on yourself," she said gently. "I don't understand Harry a lot of the time - I think you understand him much better than I ever have - but I know him really, really well. I know how he operates. Better than you do, because I've had more time. And it's not my place to assume things like this, but I've always thought - well, since I came back, anyway - it's seemed clear to me that… well, he loves you, Ginny."

Ginny shut her eyes. Even to hear it from Hermione was a dizzying experience. "Do you mean that?" she whispered, when she found her voice. "No - don't say that."

"Why else would he have been so stupid? Why would he have got into such a rage about Malfoy? Let me tell you -" Hermione laughed. "Jealousy's the best indicator in the world." She sighed, and patted Ginny's hand. "I've so been wanting to talk to you about this. I'm glad you're feeling… well, are you feeling better?"

Ginny nodded. She didn't speak. She was worried her voice would break and she didn't want to get emotional. There was no point in that, yet. She needed to hear it from Harry.

"Can I ask you something, then?"

Ginny looked at her. "Mm-hmm."

Hermione kept hold of her hand. "How were my parents today?"

Ginny sat up and shook Harry as far out of her mind as she could get him. It wasn't far. "If I can restore their minds at all, then I really believe their bodies will work." She squeezed Hermione's hand. "And I'm going to start on their minds tomorrow. Their heads, anyway - I don't even know what's happening in their minds and I won't until I've cleared the damage out of their skull bones. There's a lot of work to be done. I can't predict how long it'll take."

"You're amazing."

"Don't say that yet."

Hermione sniffled. "No, even if they don't wake up, you're… amazing. Thank you so much, for doing this."

"Of course." Ginny gave Hermione a fierce hug. "Of course."

Hermione was still sniffling when she let go, and she immediately changed the subject. "The debates seem to be going well among the P.C.s don't they?"

The Privy Counselors had begun to debate just who ought to be appointed to the Magical Advisory, and who were the best candidates for Minister of Magic.

"Yes," said Ginny. "Dad's still a strong contender, which I think is great. And Rose Brown's name comes up a lot in the paper, have you noticed? Every Slytherin on that Privy Council is going to vote for her, and about half of them were in Slytherin House. She's got a very strong chance of being Minister."

Hermione nodded. "Well, she's clever and hard working, so it wouldn't be a tragedy, although I do hope it's your dad. The Secretary Privy's awfully young." Hermione stood and went to the door. "I don't know that I'd want all that responsibility in the hands of a twenty-eight year old."

"Seems old enough to me," Ginny said. "Imagine how much more we'll know in ten years." It seemed an age away. "I'll bet you could be the Minister of Magic in ten years," she said. "I need to talk to Harry," she added very abruptly, startling herself.

Hermione stopped in the door. "Then do it," she said, and left Ginny alone to sort out her thoughts.

~*~

The first of May was the warmest day of the year so far, and Molly fanned herself with the new Charmed Life, which was mercifully devoid of family photographs. Through the kitchen window, she could see the edge of the front garden, and in it she saw Matthew, struggling to unearth a gnome. He had the thing by its foot and was obviously not going to give up until he had flung it far from the house.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04