Chapter Four: The Prophecy

Time was meaningless to Harry as he stood on the threshold of Grimmauld Place. The rain had started as he and Tonks flew over, but he couldn't feel the chill as the wind ruffled his already messy hair. He was numb, freezing... and it didn't help that the whole trip seemed wrong, knowing that Sirius wouldn't be there to greet him when he opened the door.

Tonks layed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. When he looked up into her eyes (a very dark blue), he saw a mirrored anguish. Of course, Harry thought silently, Tonks understands more than anyone... Sirius had been her cousin. They shared not only a bond, but blood.

"It'll be okay," she whispered softly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze before looking down at the paper with the address of the place, and the door appearing out of nowhere. Tonks knocked three times before it flew open.

Harry's heart seemed to jump into his throat as he stared at the youngest Weasley girl that had opened the door. Ginny looked so bloody great. His eyes raked over her quickly, noticing that her hair was thrown into a messy bun, showing off the sharp angles of her face. Ginny seemed to be growing more and more beautiful with each breath Harry took.

He gave his head a slight shake. If Ron ever found out that Harry thought such things about his baby sister, he would be a dead man for sure.

The next moment, Ginny was in his arms and Harry was whispering how much he missed her. As soon as she stepped out of his embrace, he felt suddenly empty.

In the few minutes that passed, Harry was hugged by a blur of red heads, greeted with well meaning words. He noticed, however, that Ginny had slipped off somewhere away from the chaos.

After two more slaps on the back from the Weasley twins, and a bone crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley, Harry claimed he was tired and made his way upstairs, but not before hearing a very sorrowful Mrs. Weasley talking in hushed tones to Tonks.

"Oh, the poor boy," she muttered, and Harry sighed heavily. He knew Mrs. Weasley meant well, but sometimes he couldn't help but wish she wouldn't fuss over him so much.

"Making a break for it, eh?"

At the top of the stairs sat Ginny, grinning down at Harry. His breath caught in his throat and he seemed unable to speak. "Er..." he began, desperate for any means of talking, "I... I uh... just thought I'd unpack."

"Yeah, sure," Ginny replied as she rolled her eyes. "Come on... I'll show you which room is yours." She got up and waited for Harry.

The room was large and spacious, but sparce at the same time. A large dresser and rickity desk occupied one wall, and a double bed on the other. The one night stand had a small muggle lamp on top. "Wow... ths room sure is... uh... cozy?" Harry grinned awkwardly.

"I know that it's a little bare, but I'm sure you can mess it all up soon enough."

"True," Harry agreed, "I do tend to be a bit untidy at times."

Ginny giggled and shoved him playfully. It was so nice to finally be able to joke around with Harry. After all, in her first year she'd had the biggest crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, and... well... now was different. Ginny's feelings for Harry were so deep and so complicated all at once that it was hard to think about them. Sometimes he could be so aggravating, ranting and raving about how much he was the worst person in the world, or how he could never defeat You-Know-Who... Ginny had complete faith in him. Why couldn't he ever see that?

"Uh... well... you never really were good at keeping your dormitory clean at Hogwarts," she said, smiling. "So why should your room here be any different?"

Harry was grateful for Ginny lightening the mood. He'd been so preoccupied in his thoughts about Sirius... he... he forgot all else in the world. While at the Dursley's, Harry had kept to his room, either flipping through the photo album of his parents, or sleeping. Sometimes he wouldn't eat for days at a time. The depression was slowly eating away at his insides, but there was a thought that always pulled him out of it: Ginny.

Everytime she popped into his mind, Harry immediately felt at peace. Remus (the only person he'd been writing to while his stay at the Dursley's house) even said the two of them reminded him fondly of James and Lily.

Ginny was simply glowing in front of him, her beauty full and vibrant. She deserves to know the truth, Harry thought, but knew it would be too difficult for him to tell her. He was, of course, referring to the prophecy from the end of last year. How could he possibly tell Ginny that either he had to kill Voldemort -- or Voldemort would have to kill him? It was already too much for him to handle, and he couldn't bare to see what and how Ginny would take it. I have to tell her eventually, he thought again, and decided finally it was for the best to tell her. "Erm.. hey, can I talk to you?"

Raising an eyebrow and nodding, Ginny closed the door with a creak and locked it so nobody could intrude on their conversation. Whatever it was about, it must have been serious. She took a seat on Harry's plush bed and held one of the pillows on her lap. "What is it? Is this about those attacks in Ottery St. Catchpole? Don't worry, the Order is ---"

"It's about the prophecy."

Silence fell between the two of them. What is he on about? Ginny wondered to herself. "Wasn't the prophecy destroyed? Yes, we weren't able to see what it said because it was dorpped." Sweat droplets were beginning to form in the creases of her brow. "How could... Harry... what's going on?"

Harry sighed and began to pace the length of the room. "The prophecy was destroyed that day we were at the Department of Mysteries, but it was not forgotten." He sat down on Ginny's left side, head hung low. "Dumbledore was a witness to it being made... and..."

Ginny cupped his face in her hands, heart beating faster and faster... she couldn't figure out what Harry could possibly mean. "What?" Her voice was soft and low, the silence of the room as still as night.

"Dumbledore has a Penseive, and in it, Professor Trelawney made --"

"Wait a minute! Trelawney!" Ginny questioned, "Hermione was right about that woman being a fraud, Harry! You shouldn't listen to a word she says!"

Harry sighed loudly. "Gin, if Dumbledore believes it, I believe it." ginny made a face but said nothing. "Anyway, the Penseive showed Trelawney's prediction."

"What did it say?" Ginny felt breathless. Harry looked at her with haunted eyes, as if testifying his last will.

"Either I kill Voldemort... or he kills me." Ginny gasped. "Only I can kill him, Ginny, and somehow I have to figure it all out." He looked at Ginny imploringly and she feared her heart would break.

"I'm afraid," he whispered. His voice was heavy with emotion and it nearly cracked as he spoke.

"We all are, Harry, but you will always be able to count on us. You know this, don't you?" She questioned. Harry glanced at her and shook his head.

"People are gonna die, Ginny. I can't stop that, but I wish I..." His voice broke, but Ginny understood. She gathered him in her arms for the second time that night and held him while he cried. Ginny knew that Harry had to carry the weight, but she decided he would not carry it alone. Even if it killed her, and she very well knew it could, she would stand beside him until the end.

"OY! BREAKFAST IS READY!"

The deafening shout of George Weasley sounded upstairs. Ginny woke with a start and realized she was still in Harry's room, wrapped in his arms. She blushed at the situation and prayed that nobody had come in during the night.

Carefully, she pried herself away from Harry's grasp and straightened up. As soon as she began to think clearly, a noise stirred from the bed. Ginny turned to see Harry stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely. His hair was messier than usual, sticking out in strange place, but she liked that look for him. Harry's eyes were not quite open yet, but the glowing emeralds could still be seen. A smile crept along his lips as he gazed upon the lucious red head.

"Is it morning?" Harry asked stupidly.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny opened the curtains, letting streams of light pour into the room. Harry put his hand up to his eyes in an effort to shield them from the sun, but it was no use.

"Mum's fixed breakfast," she stated, running a hand through the blazing red mane atop of her head. "That is," she added with a smile, "if you're hungry."

Harry rubbed his eyes again, not sure of what to make of her comment. Was Ginny flirting with him? "Of course I'm hungry," was his reply, just as sarcastic as her own, "Why wouldn't I be?"

The atmosphere was suddenly dry as the tension heated between them. There were two things going through Ginny's mind at that moment: run out of the room, or kiss him.

She chose the first one.

"I... uh... I've got to go," Ginny mumbled, and crossed to the door. "Food is downstairs... I'll see you..."

Once she was gone, Harry heaved a sigh and scratched his head. Girls could be so confusing.