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Wtorek, 08 Lipca, 2008, 07:49

Odpowied¼ Hermiony

Po moim pytaniu nasta³a krêpuj±ca cisza. Patrzy³em na Hermionê z niepokojem oraz czym¶ w rodzaju nadziei, która gas³a z ka¿d± chwil± milczenia z jej strony. Hermiona mia³a strasznie smutny wyraz twarzy- kiedy spojrza³a mi w oczy, ujrza³em przepe³nione ³zami du¿e, br±zowe oczy, b³agalnie wpatrzone.
-Wiktor...Ja…Wiesz…Ron i w ogóle…wybacz mi! Nie mogê…siê zgodziæ-wyrzuci³a to z siebie wreszcie Hermiona, p³acz±c.
-Rozumiem-odpowiedzia³em bezbarwnym g³osem. Czu³em w sobie pustkê, ogromn± pustkê i co¶ we mnie obumar³o-ta nadzieja, ta wiara, ¿e uda siê z Hermion±.
Napotkawszy moje zrezygnowane, zrozpaczone spojrzenie, wybieg³a z domu, pochlipuj±c. Za ni± pobieg³ Ron, rzuciwszy mi ostatnie wrogie spojrzenie, w którym tym razem go¶ci³ triumf, za¶ koledzy zostali, patrz±c na mnie w milczeniu. Nie chcia³em lito¶ci ani wspó³czucia, potrzebowa³em samotno¶ci, by wszystko powoli przemy¶leæ.
Chyba to wyczuli, po krótkiej chwili napiêtej ciszy wyszli, b±kaj±c do mnie jakie¶ banalne wyja¶nienia. Mama równie¿ wybra³a siê do kuchni, mrucz±c, ¿e musi ugotowaæ zupê. Jakbym nie wiedzia³, ¿e od rana stoi ch³odnik w lodówce!
Poszed³em na górê, do mojego pokoju. By³ skromny-znajdowa³y siê w nim tylko ³ó¿ko, ma³e biurko i zwyk³a szafka. Wygl±da³by on ca³kiem schludnie-jak to mówi mama-gdyby tylko ¶ciany, co do kawa³ka, nie by³y oblepione zdjêciami z Mistrzostw ¦wiata w Quiddicha. Rzuci³em siê na ³ó¿ko i, choæ zdarzy³o mi siê to tylko kilka razy w ca³ym moim ¿yciu, ³zy pokapa³y z mojej twarzy na poduszkê. Nie obchodzi³o mnie ju¿ nic, co nie by³o Hermion± i jej odpowiedzi±…Czu³em siê upokorzony, ale najbardziej chyba by³o mi ¿al tego, co straci³em, a mog³em mieæ. Czu³em, jakby ca³y ¶wiat siê mi zawali³ i jakbym nie mia³ ju¿ nic, co by mnie tutaj trzyma³o…
Nagle do mojego pokoju wszed³ Ron Weasley! Najpierw ogromnie siê zdziwi³em, po krótkiej chwili poczu³em przyp³yw ogromnej z³o¶ci i gniewu oraz ¿alu do niego, tak, wielkiego ¿alu za to, ¿e odebra³ mi prawie wszystko (by³em wtedy bardzo rozgoryczony, wiêc nie wszystkie moje pogl±dy by³y w tamtej chwili s³uszne).
Lalu¶ usiad³ na sto³ku i spojrza³ na mnie. Po chwili rzek³ cicho:
-S³uchaj, Krum, wiesz, ja tam za tob± za bardzo nie przepadam…
-I nawzajem, stary, i nawzajem-rzuci³em ostro, czuj±c, co siê ¶wiêci.
-Ale ciê szanujê, no…w miarê. I…tego…
-Co?- warkn±³em niewzruszony.
-No, wiesz…Przykro mi z powodu…No wiesz…Hermiony…
Spojrza³em na niego z niedowierzaniem. Czy to na pewno by³o Ron Weasley, najwiêkszy lalu¶ na ¶wiecie? Wredny egoista? Co¶ siê we mnie w ¶rodku poruszy³o. Wyci±gn±³ pierwszy d³oñ, pocieszy³ mnie…
-Dziêki, Weasley, i…Wiesz…Teraz to ty bêdziesz z Hermion± chodzi³, prawda?
Zaczerwieni³ siê, ale widaæ by³o, ¿e sama my¶l ju¿ go cieszy…
Pokiwa³ g³ow± w milczeniu ,po czym u¶miechn±³ siê do mnie i wyszed³ z pokoju.
Poczu³em siê odrobinê lepiej. W koñcu jestem do przodu- jestem pogodzony, nie mam wyrzutów sumienia. Mimo to na samo wspomnienie minionej chwili rozpacz znów siê we mnie pojawi³a. Postanowi³em wyj¶æ na spacer. Szybko zarzuci³em bluzê na siebie (tak na wszelki wypadek; doprawdy, nie wiem, dlaczego sta³em siê taki przewiduj±cy) i poszed³em do parku, le¿±cego ko³o mojego domu. Zacz±³em przechadzaæ siê po ¶cie¿kach, próbuj±c my¶leæ o czym¶ innym ni¿ o odpowiedzi Hermiony. Niestety, nie udawa³o siê mi to. Wspomnienie to nasuwa³o mi siê w my¶li ca³y czas.
Patrz±c têpo i pusto w ¶cie¿kê, rozpamiêtywa³em dawne, szczê¶liwe chwile z Hermion±? Czy bêd± jeszcze takie?
Nagle poczu³em, ¿e w kogo¶ wpad³em. Silne uderzenie, gleba na plecy- d³ugo potem jeszcze to pamiêta³em. Gdy wsta³em, ujrza³em nad sob±, prócz migoc±cych gwiazdek, Rona Weasleya z Hermion±. Ona sama wygl±da³a na lekko za¿enowan±. Ron poda³ mi rêkê i wsta³em. Nie wiedzia³em, co powiedzieæ…I kolejne milczenie ze strony wszystkich pojawi³o siê tego dnia.
-No có¿…To tego…Dziêki i w ogóle…Mi³ego dnia…
-Mi³ego dnia!- odpowiedzieli równocze¶nie, po czym Hermiona powiedzia³a do mnie cicho, patrz±c mi powa¿nie w oczy:
-Wiktor…Ja… naprawdê nie mog³am….
-Rozumiem-powtórzy³em smêtnie i pokiwawszy im rêk± na po¿egnanie, powlok³em siê w kierunku domu. Zaduma³em siê strasznie. Czu³em siê taki stary i do¶wiadczony-jednym s³owem: by³o mi bardzo ¼le.
My¶l±c o swoich problemach, znów wpad³em na jakiego¶ staruszka. Przeprosi³em i ju¿ mia³em odej¶æ, kiedy przyjrza³em siê panu dok³adniej. By³ to Albus Dumbledore we w³asnej osobie! Du¿o rzeczy dzia³o siê tamtego smutnego dnia…
-Dzieñ dobry, profesorze Dumbledore!- wykrzykn±³em ci±gle jeszcze oniemia³y.
-Ach, witam, panie Krum!- zawo³a³ weso³o Dumbledore znad swoich okularów. –Jaki to piêkny dzieñ dzisiaj, nieprawda¿?- zagadn±³ mnie mi³o.
Ale zobaczy³ mój têskny i zazdrosny wzrok, wodz±cy za Hermion± i Ronem, trzymaj±cym siê za rêce.
-Aaaa…Wiêc dla ciebie nie jest on taki dobry…-stwierdzi³ ze smutkiem profesor.
Kiwn±³em g³ow±. Znowu ³zy jakby na z³o¶æ chcia³y polecieæ. Zagryz³em wargê.
-Wiesz…-zacz±³ ³agodnie Dumbledore-nie zawsze mo¿emy mieæ wszystko…Mo¿e czasem to i lepiej? Cieszmy siê z tego, co mamy, bo inaczej-nawet to, co szczê¶liwe, nie bêdzie ju¿ dla nas rado¶ci±. A ¿e nie zawsze siê w ¿yciu udaje? To normalne…Ale nie wolno siê wtedy poddawaæ…Nie, nie nadal walczyæ o to, co minê³o-zaprzeczy³, jakby czytaj±c w moich my¶lach-ale o to, co bêdzie. –u¶miechn±³ siê do mnie pokrzepiaj±co i poszed³ dalej, nuc±c sobie pod nosem.
A ja sta³em i rozmy¶la³em nad tym, co powiedzia³ mi Dumbledore. Mo¿e rzeczywi¶cie muszê poczekaæ…Walczyæ o to, co bêdzie, a nie o to, co nie jest mi pisane i jest ju¿ przesz³o¶ci±?

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