I guess it started with Ginny. I don't remember it myself, but Dad does, and he told it to us later on. He thought of it as just a silly thing that happened, once, and I'd heard it told so often I just took it for granted. Later, when I got to thinking about everything that came after, it took on a different meaning, but by then I was too scared to tell anyone.

Even George.

Anyway, I was three and some of my dad's friends were over. He said go on, tell them what was going to happen in the summer, and George told them that there was a baby growing inside Mum. And someone must have said—I don't remember this, this is just what they told me—oh wonderful, you're going to have another little brother.

And then I said, no, it was going to be a girl like Mum.

Well, they laughed, of course it had been years since there'd been a girl Weasley, but sure enough there came Ginny. Actually now I think Dad had forgotten by then, it was his friend who remembered and that jogged his memory. So it was our family joke for a while.

I guess what really stuck with me was one day when Perce was ten. Dad brought home all these weird books that were old and cheap, mad writers trying to mix in all these Muggle ideas, but Perce loved them, course, he read anything at that age, and I think he wanted to get through the last few Muggle books he could before leaving for Hogwarts.

Anyway, I remember we were in the sitting room, he was just lying on the sofa, reading the book. And he got up and went to the clock, and asked Dad, how does it work? Dad got excited and started going on about how it knows where we are, it's like McGonagall's quill or something, but Percy said in his book, the Muggles say it can't change all at once, there has to be some time for the message to get anywhere, you can't know about anything until a little after it happens.

Dad said that the Muggles were just wrong about it, but I said, no, you can know about some things before they happen. Like the book, you just know, it's going to catch on fire someday.

Percy just looked at me kind of funny, I guess I'd have done the same thing, said no, the book wasn't going to catch on fire (unless I acted up!)

He went off to Hogwarts, but that fall, George and I were in the kitchen and, looking back, must really have been annoying Mum. She got angry and told us to leave, but we were hungry so we snuck back in. George distracted her and she upset the kettle, the flame from the stove just leaped up, and the book was right on the counter, and...it got singed. She put it out, of course, but you could tell something had definitely happened to it.

When Percy came home for Christmas he found out, and he said I'd just lit on fire to prove a point. I didn't want to get George in trouble so I went along with it. But I guess that was the first time I really knew that something different had happened, that other people didn't know what would happen the same way I did.

Nobody really understood. I told Mum Bill would get an earring and she just laughed. There were a few chess games that I could tell that Percy, or Ron, or someone were going to win, but as soon as I mentioned it everyone assumed I knew how to play chess, I don't really. I tried to explain to George but he shrugged it off—we shrugged everything off—once I told him no, I didn't know if the Cannons would win their next match, I don't know everything—just bits and pieces of it all come to me.

We started at Hogwarts. I met new people, of course. Lee Jordan and us hit it off right away, and second year, of course, we all decided to try out for the Quidditch team together. I...it must have been that Hufflepuff match that took about ten minutes, I remember I just saw the Chasers passing to each other. And Lee wasn't there.

I told him, I said, listen, mate, I don't think you're going to make it. Of course he didn't believe me and I had to explain what I saw. I know, it sounds like I'm having visions, like I saw it in front of me instead of what was really there. It wasn't that so much as it was a thought in my mind, that I could remember what it looked like even though I hadn't seen it.

Lee didn't believe me, he said even if it was just that, how did he know it wasn't some other game? Well after he'd graduated? I told him I just knew, it would be that year, no, I hadn't seen either of the Beaters so I didn't know if we'd made it.

But the day before tryouts was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Horb was teaching that...well, she had issues of her own, but by the time Horb pried the Grindylow off him...it took weeks until he could sit on a broom again. Poor guy.

Third year I signed up for Divination. Obviously. I was rubbish at it—I couldn't make sense of the tea leaves or the crystal ball, Trelawney and I didn't get along well, the first class she said there was doom in my future, of course that didn't...

Whoever you are, if you're reading this, tell her she had it in her after all.

I asked her, what it was like to be a Seer, and she just sniffed at me and said the Inner Eye didn't See upon command. Sounds about right. I even...and please don't tell George this, some aspects of my memory need to be preserved...went to the library on my own accord. Once. And only once.

I found a book that said nobody remembers making true prophecies, they just glaze over and spout them out. Of course, I was hardly ever alone, I have...had...a twin I was with all the time, so I figured he'd have told me if that was happening. I got a T on my O.W.L. and dropped the class as soon as I could.

There was nothing I could do about it, really. I never saw anything important, or even anything that anyone would care about. I knew Percy would be a Prefect, but I kept my mouth shut about that. I knew, just from plain old common sense, that as soon as he found out he'd go on plenty about it anyway.

And then there was the Quidditch World Cup. I didn't know until Bagman, this git, offered to bet on the final, and then I just knew that Ireland would win but Krum would get the Snitch. So I bet all we had, he gave us great odds, and that was that. George didn't let on, but he was shocked, he'd never have bet all we had even if he knew how it would turn out. I tried again to explain what happened with me but I don't think he really believed until after.

Thing is, though, Bagman paid us with leprechaun gold. We spent the whole year trying to get it back but it never worked out. I suppose that taught me a lesson; this is only good for so much.

That year I knew I'd go with Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball. It never crossed my mind that I had to ask her until I think it was Ron brought it up. Of course, I did, and she went with me. That was nice.

Little things, after that, for the next few years. I knew we'd ace our Apparition tests, that probably doesn't sound like much, but Charlie needed a couple tries to get through his. I knew, after the Triwizard Tournament, I'd see Fleur Delacour again—but didn't realize how.

And then, right after George lost his ear, I saw one of us. One of us, and this is why it's more like thoughts and not visions, I knew what it meant. One of us was going to die, young, I couldn't tell how soon, and leave the other one behind.

And I couldn't tell who. (I know, I know. I should have tried to look at the ear. No use. Couldn't tell.)

So for the last few days I've just been thinking and thinking about who, who I'd want it to be. I'm not dumb, I knew going into this there was a good chance plenty of us wouldn't make it. But to know it like this, and yet not know the most important bit of all...

I don't know. Don't know if I'd want it to be him or me—it's the most callous thing in the world, to wish death on your twin brother, but going on for years might be even harder and if it was, I couldn't put him through it if I knew ahead of time. I've written letters to my family, wishing them the best, to be delivered if something does go wrong but I don't know who to leave them with. And I figure I need to write this too, even if I don't have to send it.

Hmm. Okay. The day after I finished writing that much, I saw another flash, and I think this is what the point of it is with the Quidditch World Cup—it can't make a difference. I had to decide to write that much without knowing where I could leave it—but once I decided to do it, it was okay to show me more. Does that make any sense? I couldn't have seen what I know now and decided, "oh, you'll live through it, I'll leave it with you." I had to write it first. It really isn't allowed to make that much of a difference for me, this other kind of magic.

Anyway. The other flash was of the surviving twin, some time in the future, with you. Definitely you. I don't know what you two were doing, but I know you live through whatever's coming. So, I want you to have this, just in case. Now you understand, that I didn't really see this coming, and yet I did. I hope my life, and death if it comes to that, will be proof enough.

I hope we win. I think we win. There's a good chance you never read this, and what I saw was just me and you talking someday, maybe me explaining this to you. But...just in case, I want someone to know.

As an aside, Angelina, if you do read this and George is in a funk, go on and do whatever it takes to snap him out of it. I think he fancies you.