The Lewis House 115 страница

Her eyes shining, Ginny showed him the page.

"But… I never said I was going out for Quidditch again."

Ginny leaned closer to him. "That doesn't change the fact that you're the best pick," she said confidently, pushing up his hat brim in order to give him a kiss. Harry shut his eyes and enjoyed it for a moment, though he was almost sure he heard a few flashbulbs pop.

"Harry Potter Takes Advantage of Minister's Daughter in Top Box," Ginny whispered.

Harry snorted. "Harry Potter Drags Minister's Daughter Under Stands and They Miss the Whole Match," he muttered back.

Ginny grinned. "It's not a catchy headline," she said. "But the story could be good." She put her hand on his knee, and Harry covered it with his own, not minding when she knocked his hat back a bit further to kiss him again. It was all right if she wanted to kiss him here. Ron wasn't paying attention anyway, and Hermione didn't care, and the reporters… well. The reporters were going to find them no matter what.

Ginny suddenly broke away and pushed back her hair. "Oh, hi, Dad," she said easily.

Harry untangled himself from her as quickly as if he were kissing an Acromantula. He did not look up at Mr. Weasley, who had just entered the top box with the rest of his family right behind him. All of them were followed by a small group of reporters and photographers; Eloise Midgen and Colin Creevey waved to Harry as the Weasleys took their seats.

"Mr. Weasley!" said a female reporter who pushed her way to the front and jostled Eloise out of the way with her elbow. The reporter looked like she had recently had her nose broken, and her badly-dyed red hair looked sorely out of place next to the throng of Weasleys in the box. Harry noticed that Mr. Weasley looked wary, but he composed himself and indicated that he would answer a question.

"We've heard from a reliable source that Mr. Draco Malfoy plans to sue the Ministry of Magic for abuse and coercion. Care to comment?"

Harry sat upright. This was certainly news to him. Even Ron took his eyes off the Quidditch pitch to stare at the reporters in amazement.

"What's that got to do with Quidditch, Flummery?" Sirius and Remus were fighting through the crowd of people who had gathered outside of the Minister's box.

Harry's insides burned. So this was the reporter who had caused so many problems – who had written those awful things about himself and Ginny and Malfoy and Mr. Weasley. A flash bulb went off, and Harry recognized Flummery's partner-in-crime, Crispin R. Peltier. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry stood up and pointed his wand at Peltier's camera.

"Disolvus," Harry said sharply, and a great jet of smoke sizzled out of the camera.

"That's illegal!" shouted Peltier, frantically attempting to salvage his film. But it coiled out of the camera in a scorching mess, obviously burnt beyond use.

"So's writing rubbish and lies," Harry said, pointing his wand at Flummery's thick scroll of parchment, which she immediately hid behind her back. "Get out, both of you."

They left, looking furious. Most of the other reporters, obviously unnerved by Harry's ready wand and the sight of Sirius Black glowering at them, hurried back down the bleachers to make it to the press box in time for the beginning of the game. Only Colin and Eloise remained behind.

"I can't believe they still work for the Prophet," said Charlie.

"They don't," Eloise replied, clearly very happy about it. "Ever since the article about Malfoy and you, Ginny. They disappeared for a while after that, and then they were sacked for good, for failing to show up for work and meet their deadlines. And they've never been able to explain where they were." She shrugged.

"I'm sure Malfoy had them both beaten to a pulp after what they printed about him and me," Ginny said, sounding unconcerned. "And then they must have been Memory Charmed or something. Otherwise we would have heard about it."

"What a shame." Eloise smiled. "Erm, Mr. Weasley, you wouldn't mind my asking a few questions, would you?"

Soon, Eloise was talking with Mr. Weasley and recording his comments with her wand, while Colin leaned over the box to shake Harry's hand.

"Nice move there, with Peltier's camera - just don't ever get angry at me like that, all right?" Colin gave his own camera a protective pat.

"Do you two want to sit in here?" Harry said, pocketing his wand and sitting back down. "There might be room if we -"

"Can't," Colin interrupted regretfully. "Soon as Eloise is done, we have to get back down to where the action is. I just came up to give you this." He handed Harry a photograph.

Harry recognized it. It was of himself and Ginny, and it had been taken the previous summer, in the front garden at Lupin Lodge. He remembered how uncomfortable he'd been then – around everyone – about everything. Especially Ginny. In the photograph, her face was turned away from Harry and she swiped covertly at her eyes. Harry realized with a touch of surprise that she must have been crying. The Harry in the photograph didn't seem aware of that, however; he was too busy slanting sidelong, wistful glances at her blue bathing costume.

Harry knew he was red. He wondered if Colin had somehow… done… something to the photograph to alter it – to make it like the ones that were printed in Charmed Life. He felt his face grow warm and looked questioningly up at Colin, unable, at first, to meet his eyes.

But Colin just grinned. "I kept it under lock and key until I was sure it was safe to give it to you."

"Cheers," Harry mumbled. Ginny was now leaning over his shoulder and looking at the picture. As she did so, the Ginny in the photograph suddenly turned her face and reached up to touch Harry's cheek – something he was certain she hadn't done at the time. The Harry in the photograph blinked.

"What a lovely picture," said Mrs. Weasley fondly, from behind Ginny. Beside her, Adam and the other boys who lived at the Burrow all sniggered.

Ginny quickly took the photograph out of Harry's hand and tucked it into her pocket. She was blushing. "Thanks, Colin," she said faintly, touching her knee to Harry's. "I don't think I have any of us together."

"Really? Because I got a great one up at Azkaban," Colin said. "I was going to submit it to the editor, but then I thought… I don't know. I thought better of it. But I'll send you a copy, if you like."

Harry and Ginny both nodded.

Eloise and Colin left shortly after that, and Mr. Weasley heaved a comfortable sigh. "Very pleasant girl," he said. "Easy to talk to. It's nice to see her career going so well."

"Well, it can't hurt knowing all of us, can it?" asked Fred. "We're a newsworthy lot."

"And in case she doesn't have enough to write about," said George, "we've brought these." Out of the folds of his orange and black robes, he pulled a bright-red box labeled Weasleys' Ultimate Party Crackers ~ Amaze and Alarm Your Guests!

"Don't you dare -" their mother began.

"But, Mum, this batch was custom made for this very occasion!" George protested. "And they're very safe," he added, grinning widely.

"Only pull those after they win," Ron said. "Don't get us kicked out."

"Ohhh, is ickle Ronniekins nervous?" Fred crooned. "I fink he is…"

But Ron didn't answer. Instead, he suddenly leaned so far over the railing that Harry thought he might fall; both he and Hermione grabbed the back of Ron's bright-orange T-shirt and held onto him.

"It's starting!" Ron said in a hoarse, excited whisper. "Here it comes!"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" boomed the announcer. "WELCOME TO THE QUIDDITCH LEAGUE CUP FINAL OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND!"

The cheers that met the announcement were so loud that Harry had to cover his ears. But he jumped up and joined in them beside Ron, who was shouting himself into a frenzy.

"That's Lee, isn't it!" Hermione shouted over the din. "Oh, I hope he's able to be impartial, this is a very important match!"

"AND HERE THEY ARE, DEFENDING THEIR TITLE AND HOLDING FIRST PLACE IN THE LEAGUE TONIGHT WITH FOUR THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS FOR THE SEASON - A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR MULROD MCNIERNEY AND THE FALMOUTH FALCONS!"

Ron immediately stopped cheering, and so did half the crowd. But on the other side of the stadium, there was an eruption of sound and a tremendous fluttering of dark gray banners as the Falcons' names were announced.

"AND, COMPETING FOR THE CUP TONIGHT, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN YEARS, AND ALSO HOLDING FIRST PLACE IN THE LEAGUE WITH A TIED SCORE OF FOUR THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS FOR THE SEASON - PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR A BRILLIANT MADMAN AND HIS EXCELLENT TEAM - OLIVER WOOD AND THE CHUDLEY CANNONS!"

The stands shook with such a noise of screams and feet stamping that Harry was temporarily deafened. But he shouted as loud as the rest of them, stomped his feet, and banged his open hands on the railing. Angelina hurled what looked like a giant orange into the air - it exploded twenty feet up and rained down a shower of orange and black confetti that seemed to be alive; it fluttered down around them like thousands of tiny butterflies and got into everyone's collars and hair. It was lovely, and it tickled, and Harry laughed out loud in honest delight.

"Oh, are there more of those?" Ginny asked, turning around. "They're great - whose idea?"

"Mine," Angelina said, grinning and passing out the huge oranges to everyone.

"TO RELEASE THE OFFICIAL GAME BALLS, WE WOULD LIKE TO ASK THE HELP OF A YOUNG MAN YOU'VE ALL HEARD OF - UNLESS YOU'VE BEEN LIVING ON ANOTHER PLANET - WE KNOW HE'S IN THE STANDS TONIGHT -"

Harry felt a stab of apprehension - he didn't want to go down there. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, neither of whom looked surprised, and then at Ginny, who gave him an apologetic look and a bracing pat on the arm.

"WILL MR. ADAM HOPEWELL PLEASE COME DOWN TO THE PITCH!"

There was one massive, unbelievable shout of approval from both the Cannons and the Falcons fans.

Harry was too startled to join in the cheers. That hadn't been his name at all. A rush of impossible warmth swept through him as he turned around with the rest of the gaping Weasleys to look at Adam. Perhaps the world had moved on… to someone else.

Adam looked stunned. "Me?" he said faintly. "Down to the pitch?"

"Well, go on," Charlie said, giving him a friendly shove. "Don't make us carry you."

Adam walked dazedly to the door of the box, and then he seemed to come to life. He turned back, flashed a huge grin at all of them, then whirled and sprinted down and out of the stands and to the gate, where burly security guards ushered him onto the pitch. The referee led him to the polished wooden trunk and handed him a key.

Adam turned, squinted up at the top box, and waved his key in the air. Harry, the Weasleys and their friends all cheered. And then Adam bent down, unlocked the trunk, and leapt back to avoid being smashed by the Bludgers, both of which zoomed out at top speed.

"Oh -" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "My goodness, that was almost his nose."

The Quaffle floated up next and was grabbed in midair by the referee. The Snitch was last to flutter out. It hovered for a second in front of Adam, winked flirtatiously, and then skittered off into the sky as Adam watched it, his face intent and his eyes very narrow. Harry found himself wondering what position Adam would get to play at school next year, or if he'd want to play at all.

"We should really go and see him play," he said to Ron. "If he plays at Hogwarts."

"Okay," said Ron absently, his eyes scanning the players as they rose into the sky and gathered around the center of the pitch, where the referee was taking his place with the Quaffle.

"You'd have to cheer for Slytherin," Hermione pointed out.

Harry and Ron looked dubiously at each other, and then they both snorted with laughter.

"McGonagall would have kittens, wouldn't she?" Ron said.

"That'd make it worth it," said Fred. "So I'll go with you."

"And me," said George. "You know, we're right down the street from Hogwarts, we really ought to pay weekly visits to McGonagall next year."

"Oh, definitely," Angelina agreed. "And we can, you know, show the new third years round Hogsmeade for her."

"Adam'll be in third year!" said Fred, his eyes lighting up. "I hadn't thought of that - but we'll show him everything, won't we, George?"

"He'll have advantages most young boys can only dream of," said George, rubbing his hands together. "Harry - do you still have that map?"

"Yeah, of course," said Harry. "I'll bequeath it to him before September first."

Sirius and Remus looked extremely pleased.

Adam came bursting back into the box, panting as if he'd run up all the stairs. "That was brilliant," he crowed. "I'm famous - when I get back to school I'll tell everyone about doing that - and doing the stuff at Azkaban - and living with the Minister of Magic -"

"Do be quiet, dear," said Mrs. Weasley absently, patting his head. She handed him a small sack of Knuts and Sickles. "Run along and get me a nice big iced pumpkin juice, would you? Oh, and here -" She handed Adam a few more coins. "Get drinks for your friends as well. That's a good boy."

Adam scowled and turned to Mr. Weasley for support.

But Mr. Weasley only shrugged. "As I understand it, Adam, you're still grounded. You're quite lucky to be here at all today, you know. You'd better do as she says."

Adam gave a long-suffering sigh and stomped out, muttering something about not being appreciated. The other boys, who had been looking quite jealous, looked mollified by the prospect of being brought pumpkin juice by their famous friend. They happily returned their attention to the pitch.

"Mum'll keep his feet on the ground," Ginny whispered to Harry. "It's a good thing, too. He might have turned out like Malfoy or something, honestly."

Harry agreed. He glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Weasley, who was having a quiet word with her husband, and he felt a surge of admiration. She really had a knack for turning strange little boys into normal human beings. He knew it first hand.

"THE QUAFFLE IS UP!"

Ron gave a victorious shout and Harry turned back to the match just in time to see Ginny hurl her confetti orange into the sky. They both threw back their heads and watched the start of the final through a haze of tiny orange and black butterflies, and Ginny slipped her hand around Harry's head and brought his ear over to her mouth, in the chaos.

"You'll be out there next year," she whispered, and her breath shot straight into his head, making him shut his eyes and grip the railing for balance. "Won't you."

Harry knew Mr. Weasley was in the row behind them. He knew it was a reckless move. But he couldn't stop himself - he had to return the favor - he reached over to cradle Ginny's head in his hand, and he pulled her ear over to him.

"If that's where you want me," he said hoarsely.

Ginny shivered, and then shouted for joy and threw up her hands. Harry let her go and did the same. Cole Kerry had just scored the first goal of the match.

*

"Molly! Did you see that!"

"It would have been hard to miss it, dear. It's all happening right in front of my face." Molly gave her husband's knee a fond pat. She had never been much for Quidditch, except when Arthur had played Keeper in school. Then, every goal scored against Gryffindor had seemed a terrible crime, and every incredible save had been a reason to lose her voice entirely. She had used to sit in the stands and look forward to the rest of the evening, knowing that when the game was done, and he had showered and either celebrated or licked his wounds, they'd sneak off together into some abandoned room or other, where she could tell him how wonderful he was, whether he had won or lost.

"What a save!"

Molly leaned against his shoulder. He was still wonderful. Whether he won or lost. But she was very, very glad that he had won; there was no one so qualified to be the Minister of Magic. No one she trusted as much to oversee the affairs of their world - she tried to imagine that he was not her husband, tried to imagine how she would have felt about his election if she had no personal bias, and she was almost sure that she would have been his supporter even if he were a stranger. After all, under his supervision, the Ministry had been rebuilt and the Dementors had been destroyed. Under his supervision, their world had mended itself in many ways. Molly knew there was still enormous work to be done, but with Arthur at the helm, it would all come to rights. She had no doubt of that. And he had begun to gather a council of worthy witches and wizards around him, who would - she hoped - make it possible for him to be home a little more often.

"I thought you said that Rose Brown was coming to the match, dear?" Arthur had chosen Rose as the Chancellor of the Ministry's Exchequer - a post with which she seemed extremely pleased. "With her husband?"

Arthur didn't seem to hear her. He clapped a hand to his chest and let out a breath. "That was a close one!" he said. "Wood's an excellent Keeper - and I suppose it's too late to pretend I'm unbiased, what with all this confetti."

Harry had just launched another exploding orange into the air, and Molly watched him affectionately. She very much liked to see his arm slip around Ginny in that protective way, and she entirely understood the starry-eyed gaze her daughter turned on him when she thought no one was looking. They were wonderful together. Even Arthur thought so. And he had always said that he wouldn't give Ginny up to anything less than the best young man in Britain - it would have been hard to find a better.

"Yeah, Mick and Rose are coming, Mum," Charlie said from behind her, and Molly craned her neck to look at him. "I'm dead surprised he wasn't here early, actually - he's almost as big a fan as I am."

"It's probably the security at the gates," said Cho. "If they'd been with us they could have cut straight to the front of the queue, because of your dad and all. But if they've had to wait with everyone else -"

"Then they've had to wait an hour. You're right." Charlie tapped Cho's Butterbeer bottle with his own. "Do you need another?"

"Mine's bottomless, isn't yours?"

Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "Clever one, aren't you?" he said, and nudged her. "No, mine's regular, but I'll go and exchange it - want anything?"

Cho smiled a bit and shook her head. She was a very pretty girl, Molly thought.

"Mum?"

"No, thank you, Charlie," said Molly, giving Adam's shoulder a pat. "I've got the help I need in that department." She watched Charlie squeeze politely past Cho and disappear into the throng of orange-clad fans, and she marveled at the difference a steady girlfriend had made in him. He had never been so… well… tame.

"Ron, you're going to fall!"

Molly turned back to see Hermione sitting back in her seat, bracing her feet against the railing and holding Ron by the back belt loops of his trousers so that he wouldn't pitch over the side of the stands and plummet onto the other fans.

"Can you sit down for five seconds?" she asked, clearly exasperated. Molly wanted to tell her that it was no use, but it was almost amusing to watch Hermione trying so hard to achieve the impossible. And she would learn soon enough - if she hadn't learned already - that there was no sense in trying to change a Weasley. They were all mad.

Ron reached around behind himself, grabbed both of Hermione's wrists, and pulled her to her feet behind him. She nearly fell against his back - she gave a little squeal of protest and pulled away to stand beside him, shooting a quick, blushing glance behind her to see who was watching. She caught Molly's eyes for a flickering, embarrassed second, and glanced immediately away.

Molly would have told her that she didn't mind at all. But Hermione never would have believed it.

"Ron, honestly," Hermione muttered.

"Now, look at their Keeper," Ron said, in a professorial sort of voice. "He plays for England - but Wood'll replace him if the Cannons win tonight, I guarantee it. Atlas has been England's Keeper for a few years, and he's good - but Wood's better."

"Atlas like the myth?" Hermione asked, making Ron look quizzically at her.

Harry laughed. "Do you know what his first name is, Hermione?"

She shook her head.

"Vernon," said Ron and Harry together, making both Hermione and Ginny scowl and declare their undying dislike for the man, though they had never met him. Molly knew that Harry's uncle was called Vernon, and she found herself inclined to despise the Falcons Keeper as well, based solely on his name. She wondered if Harry would ever see that horrible family of his again, for any reason. She hoped not. They weren't really his family. Not in his heart - she knew it. On impulse, she reached out and smoothed the back of his unruly black hair, trying to pat it into shape. It was very much the same impulse that kept her fiddling with Bill's ponytail, and it was… strange, perhaps, to be so truly attached to a child who wasn't her flesh and blood. But it wasn't really strange. Harry had been with them for so long that he felt quite like her own, and she thought that he probably felt the same way.

The shy, happy smile he turned on her left no room for doubt.

"It won't lie flat," he told her, quickly pushing up his glasses. "I've been trying for years."

Molly ruffled his fringe, caught a glimpse of his scar, and sighed for him as he turned away. He had been through too much. He was due a long rest. She was very glad that he seemed to be about to take it.

"Rose! What's wrong?"

Molly turned. Arthur sounded concerned; he was looking at Rose Brown, who had just appeared at the door of the top box, looking absolutely exhausted.

Arthur was on his feet. "Is it at the Ministry? What have I missed? Do I need to -"

"No, Arthur, it's not at the Ministry." Rose rubbed her head. "If it were, I could do something about it. Is there a seat…?"

Cho motioned to the two empty seats on her other side, and Rose sank into one of them.

"Rose?" Molly frowned worriedly up at her. "Is there something you need?"

Rose shook her head and waved a listless hand in the air. "You'll see," she said vaguely. "Just wait."

Molly didn't have to wait long. A few moments later there was a sort of cannibal war cry from outside the door, and two strange, savage looking beasts appeared in the top box. They were shirtless, they smelt of very strong alcohol, and their faces and chests were painted in garish orange, with huge black letters written in paint across their fronts. One bare orange chest bore an enormous C, and the other an A.

It was a long, shocked moment before Molly realized in horror that one of the beasts was Charlie.

"Charles Beauregard Weasley!" she shrieked. "Put your clothes on, you are in public, and your father -"

But it was too late. Flashbulbs were popping everywhere. Arthur was tucking his wand into his robes, looking torn between anger and amusement, and amusement was obviously getting the better of him. Molly gave him a hard look.

"Tell your son to behave."

"Behave yourself, Charlie," Arthur said automatically, taking Molly's hand. "The damage is done," he whispered, leaning towards her. "It's too late now. Might as well let them have their fun."

"You'll never be re-elected if they carry on like this!"

"Well, it was never my plan to be elected in the first place and these… are…" He looked around and shook his head. "My… children."

He looked as though he wasn't quite sure where they had come from, and Molly had to laugh. He was right. Elections were all well and good, and it was wonderful that he was Minister for now. But no matter what happened next, they would manage just as they always had. And if their children wanted to be Quidditch fanatics, well then, as long as they weren't hurting anyone, it was all right.

"Besides," Arthur said after a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Fleur taught me the most interesting charm before she and Bill left for France - a Diversion Enchantment, she called it. Do you know why the flashbulbs stopped popping a moment ago?"

Molly shook her head.

"Because this box looks empty to everyone outside it." Arthur patted his wand. "I don't know how the Muggle politicians manage it, I really don't."

"I'm the C!" Mick shouted, beating his chest and making Rose give a disgusted sigh.

"So much for my career," she muttered. "Can't take him anywhere."

Arthur motioned Rose over, and quietly told her what he had just told Molly. She looked enormously relieved and sat down again beside Cho, who was watching the spectacle and laughing.

"I'm the A!" Charlie bellowed. "We need an N!"

Ron shoved his Bottomless Butterbeer Extra into Harry's hands and ripped off his shirt. Hermione dropped into her seat and shut her eyes. She obviously knew that there was no point in trying to fight it.

"PAINT ME!" Ron shouted, and Charlie threw him a pot of glowing orange body paint, which Ron proceeded to smear all over himself. He grabbed the black paint next, and swiped a giant N across his front. "WE NEED ANOTHER N!" he cried.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-04