The Lewis House 104 страница

"Well, we can deal with your choice of Defender right now, Mr. Malfoy," Moody was saying, "and you can go right back to your nice bed while we do it. Or you can speak to the Healer first. She's on her way. It's up to you."

"Up to me." Malfoy's voice was an animal snarl. "If it were up to me, the Healer would be imprisoned for her breach of contract and she would be the one in this cell -"

"I take it you'd rather not speak to her," said Moody dryly. "Right. Back you go -"

"STOP." Malfoy's breathing was ragged. "I'll speak to her. And then I expect this nightmare of a legal system to right itself and provide me time alone with my private Defender."

"Would you listen to him," Bill muttered. "Still thinks he's on top of the world."

"And," Malfoy ranted on, "whichever one of your so-called Aurors manhandled me and took my clothing and possessions can expect to be charged with assault and theft."

Bill snorted. "Delusional."

Moody thunked his way into the corridor, shut the cell door, and pinned both his eyes on Ginny.

"He's all yours."

Ginny nodded, unsettled by the magical eye, which seemed to see straight through her. She wondered if she would ever get over the paranoid suspicion that Moody was really someone else. That eye had been pinned on her all too often in her third year, and she didn't like to be reminded of it.

"Can I ask a favor?" she ventured.

"Earplugs?" Moody returned, making Bill laugh.

Ginny smiled a little. "No… I just need Malfoy's possessions and clothing sent up, if that's possible."

"Certainly." Moody pointed to the Auror who had been their guide. "See to it."

The Auror seemed to be holding in a sigh as she turned to face another long trudge on the stairs, but she disappeared into the stairwell without protesting.

"Watch yourself, Miss Weasley," said Moody, gripping the door handle. "There's a shield up in the middle of the cell in order to keep you out of Malfoy's reach during this meeting. The shield is marked on the floor. Don't cross that line, or you'll get a nasty shock."

"I won't," Ginny said, and put out her hand. "Oh, wait -"

Moody paused before opening the door.

"Is the room being watched?" Ginny asked, hoping the answer would be no. "Is there surveillance?"

"None that's set up yet, no," said Moody. "There's no reason for it until the prisoners are woken - why, would you like me to -"

"No." Ginny was relieved. "That's fine." She narrowed her eyes at his magical one. "No peeking," she said.

Moody gave her a narrow look, but nodded his agreement and asked no questions.

"Well, I'll be right out here," Bill said over her shoulder. "Be careful."

Ginny nodded, and Moody limped back, pulling the door open so that she could see…

Was that Malfoy?

Forgetting her worries, Ginny walked into the cell and stared at him. She heard the door scrape shut behind her - heavy metal grating on cold stone - but although it might have given her a pang of uncertainty to be locked in a room alone with Draco Malfoy, it didn't scare her to be trapped in a room alone with this dingy, wasted…

Prisoner. Everything about him screamed prisoner. The flat, ugly gray robes, the shapeless brown shoes, the colorless, dirty hair that fell into his face and would not stay back no matter how he pushed it. The puffy, shadowed skin of the gaunt face - the greenish tinge to his perspiring flesh - he had not been able to put up his Glamour since they had taken his wand away, and he looked more ill and exhausted than ever; the moisture and mildew of Culparrat were doing nothing to help him. He paced maniacally in his limited space - back and forth - back and forth again - getting nowhere, rubbing frantically at the place on his finger where the ring had been. His energy was riddled with frustration. Helplessness. And rage - rage so complete that Ginny had to steel every nerve against it.

Malfoy's pacing suddenly stopped, as if he had just realized for the first time that Ginny was in the room. When he turned his eyes on her, they gleamed with an unnatural light. He looked just as he had when he'd been drunk in the Leaping Fish - but he was stone sober.

It was frightening.

"Come to survey your handiwork, have you?" His voice was cold and hoarse, and Ginny felt a pang of irrational guilt.

"I didn't break our contract."

Malfoy leered. He took a step towards her and Ginny took an involuntary step back, forgetting what Moody had said about the shield. It might have been there, but it was invisible, and there seemed to be no barrier at all between herself and Malfoy.

"Oh, of course you didn't," he breathed. "It's all an amazing coincidence. I should have known better than to expect a Weasley to hold to such a binding. I should have known better than to…" His hands came up and scraped wildly at his hair. His eyes unfocused. "To trust you…"

Through the guilt, Ginny felt a flash of triumph. So he had trusted her. Then she had got through to him - she had helped him a little - and so she must be able to exercise some small measure of influence over him. Perhaps there was a way to make him talk, and if she maneuvered very carefully then she would find it.

"I didn't break our contract," she repeated, concentrating on sending that truth through to him. "I'm here to help you."

"Help me?"

Malfoy took another step towards her and Ginny forced herself to stay still - she didn't have to move back. Her eyes searched the ground for the mark that Moody had talked about - and there it was. The stones that ran horizontally across the floor between herself and Malfoy glowed silver. There was strong protective magic at work there, and Malfoy must have known it would have hurt him; for all his intimidating advances, he was nowhere near it.

"Help me, Weasley?" he repeated. His eyes slid over her face and his mouth split in an ugly smirk. "However do you intend to help me when you look like you haven't slept in weeks?"

Ginny tensed - but then, he didn't know why she was tired. He knew so little of what had recently happened. He wouldn't have any idea of what had happened with the Grangers, and it was better that way.

"Up late last night shagging Potter, no doubt." Malfoy's smirk widened as though he believed he had said something that would upset her.

Instead, into her mind there flashed an image - Harry's face above her - Harry in her bed, as he had been last night. They hadn't done what Malfoy had suggested, but there had been moments when Ginny thought they might forget themselves. She knew that she had forgotten nearly everything else while they had kissed and touched each other - she had certainly forgotten the time. It had been three o'clock in the morning before they had realized it, and they had both groaned, thinking of how painful it would be to get up in the morning, before forcing themselves to lie still together. And even then, they had been unable to lie still. Her hand had found his hand, and his head had turned on the pillow and his lips had brushed her lips, and Ginny couldn't remember if the kiss had ever finished or if she had drifted off with Harry's mouth still softly aligned with hers -

"Good Lord," Malfoy spat, bringing her back to her senses. She jumped and stared at him. "That wasn't an invitation to fantasize."

Ginny snorted. "Well I didn't bring it up, did I?" she shot. "And yes," she added, trying to return to the conversation at hand. "I'm here to help you."

"He does have a small fortune, I'm told," said Malfoy, ignoring her. He walked to the back wall and relaxed against it, crossing his arms and his ankles and staring dead ahead at her in as satisfied and arrogant a manner as he possibly could in his ruined state. "So you've finally found a steady source of pocket change. Well, well, Weasley. It is the world's oldest profession."

Ginny was sickened, but determined not to show it. "Look," she said, already feeling weary. She had forgotten how draining he could be, and how he seemed to know all the most intimate ways to insult her. "Do you want my help or not?"

"You want to Heal me, you want to help me." Malfoy's voice was full of scorn. He uncrossed his arms and began to rub again at the empty place on his ring finger. "Please, Weasley. Give me one reason why I should believe you."

The air around Ginny surged suddenly and she felt a strange softness in it. A dark vulnerability.

He really wanted an answer.

"Or is this just more of your practice?" he demanded. "Come to use me? Is that how you plan to improve your skills? By forcing yourself on prisoners who don't have a choice -"

"All right." Ginny had to work to contain herself. If there hadn't been a barrier between them, she would have been tempted to slap him. "The truth is, I wasn't only doing it to help you. The truth is that I didn't like sitting near you on that broom, and I wanted to make it easier for myself, so I decided to work on you - for me. Not for you. But you agreed to let me, and I have never, never told anyone what I felt, or what I know."

Malfoy's eyes flashed. "Know?" His voice was half-frantic. "Just what do you think you know, Weasley?"

Ginny felt his fear. His anger. And she decided it was right to use it against him.

"I know that you're rubbing your finger because you miss that ring," she said quietly.

Malfoy jumped. His relaxed posture stiffened entirely - he took two steps away from the wall, then snatched his hands back and looked at her in surprise, which shifted immediately to anger. He tossed his head.

"I've been stripped of my clothing and possessions while I was unconscious, like a common ruffian," he hissed. "Of course I want my possessions back, you idiot. That ring is worth more than your family's entire assets, I'm sure. I want it back."

Ginny only shook her head. "It's no good trying to hide it. I felt it. I know..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't exactly know what the ring was capable of. But she knew that if she was ever going to bluff him, then she would have to make her best guess now. "I know about the Dementors," she said evenly, her heart thudding. Please let me be right, please let me be right…

Malfoy's eyes widened, and for a moment he was obviously rattled. But his eyes narrowed again before Ginny could be sure she had cornered him, and he advanced, taking a slow, deliberate step towards the shield that separated them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. But the way he was moving - the way he was staring at her -

Ginny opened herself to everything his energy could tell her, and she knew that she was right. He was terrified. And furious. She had got it right. A powerful thrill surged through her - this was going to work. This was going to work.

"Yes you do," she said, keeping her voice was even as his. "You know exactly what I'm saying. And I think you also know that if my brother hasn't asked you anything about this, then it means I haven't told him anything about it."

Malfoy's energy surged with sudden confusion - his narrow stare faltered - his mouth dropped partway open. At once, he seemed to realize that he was gaping, and he snapped his mouth shut and gestured imperiously with his hand as though trying to prove his nonchalance - but the movement was jerky. And in his eyes there was the bright, fierce terror of an animal that had met its match.

Ginny pressed her advantage. "I don't know if anyone's told you about the way the Dementors have been acting since you were arrested," she said.

At once, Malfoy's demeanor shifted. Anger swept him again, knocking defeat and vulnerability aside. "No one's told me anything, damn it!" he nearly shouted. "I've been Stunned in this bloody cell for weeks. Are you completely stupid? How on earth did you people defeat the Dark Lord - you're imbeciles, all of you - imbeciles -"

He was losing all control, and Ginny watched him as he disintegrated before her, feeling both ugly satisfaction and true pity. He was a ruined person. He had given away his life for something that had never existed, and never would exist. And now all promise of it was gone, and this was what he had left. This cell, this hatred…

And that ring.

"Are you stupid, Malfoy?" she said softly, when he stopped ranting for a moment to take a deep, gasping breath. "Don't you see I'm the last resort? Keep up your insults and I'll go, and then where will you be?"

Malfoy gave her a hollow, violent look, then swung his head away and looked at the wall.

"The Dementors are out of control," Ginny told him. "People have noticed that it's only happened since you've been gone, but no one can work out why."

There was another pause. Ginny listened to his labored breathing for a moment before pressing on.

"Some people think it's the lack of a more experienced rider."

Malfoy's fingers clenched, then uncurled slowly.

"But that's not it, is it?" Ginny said, even more softly. She was following her gut. Her instincts. The air in the room was thick with confusion and grief - anger and helplessness - he didn't know how to answer, or what to do. He only knew that he was caught - she could feel that he knew it.

A moment later he looked up at her, flat gray eyes resigned. "How should I know?" he drawled - but it was not the old drawl. It lacked its usual luster. "Do I look like a Dementor to you, Weasley?"

Ginny held his gaze for a long moment. "Let's have a look at your ring, shall we?" she finally said.

Malfoy's head snapped up. His eyes went wide with shock and suspicion. "Don't touch a thing of mine -"

But Ginny had already turned to the door. She opened it and slipped out, shutting it behind her.

Both Bill and Moody looked ready for a report.

"I'm not finished," she said. "I need his things."

Bill handed her the wooden crate that held all of Malfoy's belongings. Ginny fished around inside it until her hand touched something hot and sharp that made her cry out in pain.

"What is it?" Bill asked anxiously. "Here, give me that - is there a nail or something?"

But as Bill reclaimed the box, Ginny lifted her hand out of it, cradling something small and gaudy-gold in the middle of her palm. Her arm was shaking. It hurt so badly that she wasn't sure she could stand it for another second, but she had to carry it in there, she had to be able to use it - but she couldn't - she was going to scream -

Moody plucked the ring out of her hand before she made a sound. Ginny's arm fell to her side and she slumped, leaning against the stone wall for balance.

"That's quite a piece of jewelry," Moody said, shrewdly observing Ginny. "Care to enlighten us?"

"Not yet," Ginny managed. "But I need a way to - carry it. I can't touch it."

Bill pulled his wand and looked ready to do another revealing spell like the one he had done on the Imprisonment Enchantment outside.

"No -" Ginny put out a hand to stop him. "Not yet. So far he believes I haven't told anyone anything. And so far I haven't. I won't lie to him."

Moody gave her another long, shrewd look. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then he shut it. Gripping Malfoy's ring tightly in one gnarled fist, he dug into the wooden crate with the other. "Here," he said after a minute, slapping a pair of black leather gloves into Ginny's hands. "He was wearing these when we took him off the dragon. Put them on."

Ginny stared. Of course - his gloves. That was why she had never felt the ring before that day at the Manor. That was why it had never hurt her, all those days on the broom. He had been wearing his gloves, and underneath the gloves he'd been controlling things with that ring…

She pulled the gloves on as fast as she could and reached out for the ring. Moody dropped it into her cupped hands and Ginny winced, waiting for pain. But there was no pain.

"Thanks," she said, and went towards the door again. "Would you?"

Bill pulled open the door and Ginny went back into Malfoy's cell. He was standing very close to the invisible shield, his eyes wild as they fell on the golden ring in her hands.

The door slammed shut, leaving them in silence. Ginny waited until she knew Malfoy could no longer stand it, and then she picked up the ring in two fingers and held it aloft.

"Very fancy," she said, and pretended to admire it. "Oh, look at the M. Very nice. We all wondered why it stayed burnt into Ron's temple for so long - but then perhaps that's why you dropped the charges against him so suddenly. Didn't want anyone looking into that, did you?"

Without taking his eyes off the ring, Malfoy put out his hand. "Give it to me," he ordered. His hand trembled.

"How does it work?" Ginny asked simply. "You might as well tell me."

Malfoy went paler than usual, then shook himself and rolled his eyes dramatically. "You pick it up and put it on your finger," he taunted, "where it will be generally seen as a sign of good taste and good fortune. Perhaps you use rings for a different purpose? Or perhaps you've never owned one."

But his insults were worth nothing now. He was transparent. "No, no," she said, forcing a light laugh. "That's exactly how I use rings. I imagine that's how most people in the world use them." She closed one hand around it and held up her other, gloved fingers. "Funny I can't even touch this one because it's full of Dark magic."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his hand remained outstretched. "Those are my gloves- " he began, but Ginny cut him off.

"Interesting how it seems to have an effect on Dementors. And -" Ginny guessed again. "And dragons."

Malfoy's face lost its remaining color, and Ginny continued on, now knowing she was right.

"Because it was the dragons too, wasn't it? How else could you have made Norbert so tame just by raising your hand? How else could Mordor have been the only dragon who stayed calm after all those months?" Ginny's mind was spinning. So much was beginning to make sense. "The other dragons went wild, didn't they - but Mordor never tried to throw you - he just sank down to the sea - because he was affected like the rest of them, but you weren't letting him react naturally - you had him under control, didn't you?"

Malfoy looked very gray.

Ginny couldn't believe none of them had seen it. She could hardly get all the words out. "You don't have a gift with dragons - it just looked like you did - that's what's good about a ring, isn't it? You just wear a glove and raise your hand and it seems you've got power - but it's all just borrowed, isn't it? None of it was ever really you."

Malfoy's hand twitched. For a moment, Ginny could read struggle in his face, and then his arm dropped to his side and he took a deep breath. His shoulders nearly relaxed. Nearly.

"Even if you were right," he said, his voice low and shaking, "none of this will be useful to you in court once it is proved you violated your contract -"

"Oh, but I didn't. And I still don't have to." Ginny pushed the ring over the tip of one gloved finger and held up her hand as if she planned to wield its power.

Malfoy gave her a fleeting look that was half plea, half murder.

Ginny held her palm towards Malfoy, the way she had seen him do with Norbert. "I can just give this ring to Sirius Black," she said, "and see what he makes of it. I won't have to say a word. I imagine you know how much he'd like to be able to control the Dementors - he'd work it out. Perhaps he should have it."

"NO!"

The word had burst out of Malfoy - apparently before he could stop it. He stood panting at the edge of his space, far too close to the barrier, a pink tinge rising in his cheeks. He looked outraged, but seemed to realize that even the one word had been as good as an admission of guilt - he threw back his head and made a noise almost like a growl.

"No?" Ginny asked very softly, flexing her hand wide. "And why not? What would happen if I -"

"Take it off," he whispered hoarsely, dropping his gaze to stare at the ring again. His chest rose and fell rapidly and all around her in the air Ginny felt his terror. "Take it off," he repeated harshly. "Before you kill us both, you stupid girl."

Ginny felt a thrill of fear. At the same time she felt something begin to course into her arm. Something that had nothing to do with Healing. Something nauseating in its total power - a power she had felt more deeply than she wanted to remember. It was flooding her. Taking root in her.

"Imperius," she whispered, as her body began to shake. "Isn't it?"

Malfoy's eyes did not leave the ring. "If you believe it is as simple as that, Weasley," he managed, "if you believe the Dark Lord used only magic that your kind can name and understand… then by all means…" He sounded as though he could hardly breathe. "Use it. Be more fool than you already are. He was stronger than any of you ever began to comprehend."

Voldemort had given this object power. Riddle. Tom.

Ginny gagged; frantically she tugged the ring off her finger and threw it to the floor - it made a ringing noise and rolled to the place on the floor where the stones shone silver. It rolled in dizzying circles, then fell flat, just inches from Malfoy.

Malfoy fell to his knees - he made an instinctive lunge - his hand hit the invisible barrier and he shouted in terrible pain. There was a crack! and a burst of red light, and Malfoy was thrown all the way back to the wall where he sat sprawled, his breath heaving through his open mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, his whole body slack and trembling. He was very close to tears.

"Ginny!"

Bill's voice. Ginny turned to see both him and Moody in the doorway, their wands drawn.

"What happ -"

"Go," Ginny said quickly. "We're not finished."

"Oh yes we are."

She turned back to see that Malfoy's eyes had opened into slits. They cut into her.

"Get her out," he commanded, trying to point. But his hand faltered and his arm dropped to his side. He didn't have the strength. "Get her out."

Ginny whirled and shook her head pleadingly at Bill and Moody. "No," she said. "No, I need more time."

They both looked dubious, but nodded and backed away again.

"I SAID, GET HER OUT -" Malfoy shouted, from where he was still crumpled on the floor. The door slammed in spite of his order, and he made a strangled noise. "You'll get nothing from me," he spat at her, his head lolling against the wall. "I'll never help you, Weasley, you're wasting your time." He cradled his shocked hand in his good one. "And when it comes out what you've done -"

"You never paid me." The words were quiet but sure, and they silenced him as fully as Ginny could have wished.

He gaped for a moment, and then - "I don't see what -"

"Our contract was based on payment. And I didn't take any pay."

Malfoy stared up at her, panting. His last hope was gone - Ginny felt it go - leaving his situation entirely bleak and miserable. There was no way out for him now.

"But I - I paid you," he stammered. "It’s not my fault if you refused -"

"Our contract is null and void," Ginny said, taking Ron's words. "I still haven't gone back on it, because I believe it's still an oath, money or not. But Malfoy…" She fixed a serious look on him. "Understand this now. I'm not legally bound. In fact, if I'm charged by the Ministry to do it, then I'll have to tell everyone what I know. And you know it'll happen. My brother will make sure I'm charged to do it."

"And you - you'd break your oath?" Malfoy was obviously scrambling for arguments now. "You, a Healer - you even said that it wasn't about money - you'd go back on your word - you'd put forth my private -"

"Yes I would." She gazed pitilessly at him. "And you can stop playing it up for my sympathy. You won't get it."

Not quite under his breath, Malfoy called her several filthy names.

"That won't help you."

"And I won't help you," he choked, struggling to get to his feet. But he couldn't get his legs under him - his collision with the barrier had weakened all his muscles; he was shaking like jelly. He dropped straight down again, still sprawled and panting. "So," he barked. "I'm to stay here for life, am I?" He gave a wild, awful laugh. "No honor left in any of you, is there? At least I'll know that all of you will suffer without my help. Suffer. Potter will spend his life keeping back those Dementors and he'll die young - you know he will. He already looks like hell. Imagine him in five years."

Ginny's fists clenched.

Malfoy laughed at her. "Yes, that's right. All that work defeating the Dark Lord just to die a slow and painful death on dragonback. What terrible irony. What a shame."

"That doesn't have to happen," Ginny managed. "That ring is enough to hold back the Dementors -"

"As if I'm going to tell you how to use it," Malfoy sneered. "No, let him die. Let your brother waste his life. Let the Ministry waste its money - let your father look like the murdering fool he is. He'll have to step down as soon as the public is tired of his ineptitude with the issues at Azkaban - not that anyone who succeeds him will manage any better." Malfoy gave a maniacal laugh. "And you'll have to watch it all, won't you? Because all the Healing power in the world won't be able to stop it. You'll have to heal the dragons again and again - you'll never have a chance to use your talents for any other reason - and you'll watch Potter waste away in front of you while you do it-"

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04