A/N: Wow, I actually finished this much earlier than I thought. Well, don't expect this out of me too much. I've been feeling particularly prolific lately. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed this story and the other one I just posted. This chapter is just further proof that I need help. Ok, let's take it away.
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
Chapter Six
Common Room Discussions
"Well," Hermione began, concentrating on the page before her, "let's start at the beginning. The first part, about 'The Boy Who Lived' is obviously referring to Harry."
Ron snorted. "Obviously," he said dryly.
Hermione shot him a sharp look, but continued. "Ok, we know of Celestia Moon's penchant for astronomical metaphors, so it's important to keep that in mind, as this prophecy is full of them. I gather the whole first bit is about how Harry can't take You-Know-Who on alone."
"Right," Ginny said suddenly. "That bit about 'the other allies of the sky' must refer to your friends and people like Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall."
"And Snuffles," Ron added, with a significant look at Harry.
Harry nodded.
"Who?" Ginny asked, confused.
Ron, Hermione and Harry glanced at each other meaningfully, before Harry said, "uh, well, that's a long story. Let's figure this out first, ok?" He felt bad about avoiding the question, but he wanted to figure this out first, before he had to explain about Sirius. He could tell that she wasn't satisfied with his answer, but let the matter drop for the time being.
"The second part is where it gets confusing," Ron said, in an effort to distract everyone from the discomfort of the Sirius/Snuffles issue. "What we really need to figure out is who the Turner is."
"Well whoever the Turner is, one thing is that it's a female," Hermione added, still frowning down at the page in front of her. "Look here," she said, pointing to the first line of the second paragraph. "Brighid is a female name."
"So we just need to find someone named Brighid, then?" Ron asked, trying to remember if there were any students by that name. He couldn't think of any.
"No," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It's obviously a symbolic name, some kind of point of reference."
"Looks like we'll have to do a little bit of research on that point," Harry mentioned, looking none too pleased by that fact.
Hermione, on the other hand, looked excited at the prospect. "Yes," she affirmed. Ron huffed his displeasure at this, but Harry intervened before the two could start on one of their patented "argument as foreplay" disagreements.
"Right, this bit about the Sun and Moon being in alignment, I wonder if that refers to an eclipse."
Ginny nodded. "It's possible," she said, "but I don't know when the eclipses are for this year. We'll probably have to research that point as well."
"Right. Though we should also consider the possibility that this is just a metaphor for something else, given that the Sun is capitalized, just like it is when it refers to Harry," Hermione added.
"Well then who, or what is the Moon, if this is just the metaphor?" Ron challenged, obviously still a little peeved, or horny, Harry wasn't sure which, or that he even wanted to know.
Hermione gave him a withering look. "The Turner that he is supposed to join with, obviously."
Ron snorted at this, but didn't say anything.
"Just what do you suppose that means, anyway?" Harry asked to the room at large. "What does it mean to 'join' with someone?"
"Well, it could mean that you'll have a new ally," Ginny said.
"Or it could be referring to your love life," Hermione added, an evil looking grin on her face. Harry glared at her, daring her to say more. She merely smiled at him.
Ron seemed oblivious to this exchange. "No," he said, almost to himself, "Ginny's probably right."
"Oh really? Well, what about this last part about love being discovered?"
"I'm sure it means you and Ron, Hermione." Even Ron didn't miss the dangerous tone in his voice.
"What are you on about Harry? Hermione's just kidding you know," Ron said, looking askance at Harry.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Harry muttered, not taking his eyes off Hermione lest she make some other smart-ass comment.
"Besides," Ron continued, a glint in his eyes, "it's not like you have a love life to speak of anyway."
"Hey!"
Ron and Hermione laughed out loud at this, while Harry turned to Ginny, pointedly ignoring them. She looked at him, amusement in her eyes, but she only said, "I wonder what this last bit about the Boy becoming a Man means."
Harry shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the first meaning that had popped into his head. "Maybe it refers to the defeat of Voldemort as some kind of rite of passage or loss of innocence."
"It's possible," Ginny conceded, her eyes still showing her amusement at the turn the conversation had taken.
He sighed, looking quickly back at Ron and Hermione who were still having a laugh at his expense. He looked back at Ginny. "Please, not you too."
She shook her head slightly, biting her lips to keep from laughing outright. "I'm sorry Harry, but it was kind of funny," she managed.
Harry shook his head and sighed, louder this time, before turning back to Ron and Hermione. "Are you two done yet?" he snapped.
They giggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Ok, ok," Hermione said, once she had calmed down. "Sorry, Harry," she added.
He just looked at her. "Ahem, well," Ginny said, sensing the tension, though she didn't really understand it, only that there was more going on between Harry and Hermione than she knew, "maybe we should meet up here after dinner tomorrow night so we can get to studying this thing more thoroughly."
Harry sighed. "Sounds good to me."
"Me too," Hermione added. There was silence. Everyone looked at Ron.
"Oh fine," he said, obviously reluctant to agree. "Count me in too."
"Great," Ginny said, beaming at all of them. Harry couldn't help but smile. She really had a gorgeous smile.
"Fine, well, goodnight all," Ron said, getting up. Hermione stood with him.
"Yes, goodnight Ginny, Harry." She grinned at him, and he managed a smile, strained smile in return. Ron and Hermione walked over towards the other end of the common room to say goodnight to each other.
Harry got up, careful to avoid looking over at where the two lovebirds were. "Well," he said, trying to mask his nervousness, "goodnight Ginny. Thanks for your help."
"Not so fast, Harry."
He turned to look at her, dreading what she wanted to talk about. "Hmm?"
"Sit down. You're not going anywhere until you tell me who or what Snuffles is." Her tone of voice brooked no argument. Nor, if he were to be honest, did he particularly want to. Any time spent with Ginny was definitely time well spent. He sat down.
"Ah, right," he began, trying to sort through how best to tell her about Sirius. "First of all, you have to trust me what I tell you. I have no proof, except my own word, which Hermione and Ron will back up."
"I trust you, Harry," she replied quietly. Harry was startled by the conviction in her voice, and he felt his insides lurch. She trusts me! He almost lost control right then, he wanted to hug her and hold her so badly. But, before he could do anything foolish, he forced himself to continue.
"Well, it's like this. Do you remember a few years ago when Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban and he came here, and everyone thought he was trying to kill me?" Ginny nodded. "Well, he wasn't. He was after the person who framed him for my parents' deaths." He heard her gasp quietly, and he studied her intently. She had gone as white as a sheet, and she was shaking. "What is it?" he asked her, worried that something he had said had frightened her.
"It's just," she began, then hesitated. She seemed unsure if she should tell him. Harry was unpleasantly reminded of the time, during his second year, when she had been about to confess about what she knew of the Chamber of Secrets.
"It's ok Ginny," he soothed quietly. "Just say what you have to say."
She didn't look at him, but he could tell that she had resolved herself to say what it was she wanted to say. "The other night, I had a dream where I saw two men talking. One, whom I didn't recognize at first, he was tall, with long dark hair. After a minute, the other one called him Sirius. That's when I realized it was Sirius Black. Anyway, he was talking to a shorter man, balding, looked kind of like a rat. Sirius called him Wormtail throughout most of the conversation."
Harry realized he was holding his breath. He let out a sigh. She turned to look at him. "They were talking about how Sirius was going to be the secret-keeper for your family." Harry could see that she was trembling now, having difficulty saying what she wanted to say. Without thinking, he put his arm around her shoulder. She seemed to draw strength from this gesture, as when she spoke next, her voice sounded stronger. "Sirius convinced Wormtail to be your family's secret-keeper. He refused at first, but when Sirius said please, he accepted. Almost too eagerly, if you ask me."
Harry sucked in a breath, but said nothing, allowing Ginny to continue. "Then, the scene shifted to a different place. I saw Wormtail there, he was kneeling, head-bowed, in front of Voldemort." Her voice started quivering. "I . . . I saw him tell Voldemort th-that he could g-give him the Potters, that he was your secret-keeper. And then, Voldemort laughed.
"The scene shifted again and I saw the night that he attacked them." She gulped, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "Your parents. Your father, and how he tried to hold Voldemort off, and how your mother sacrificed herself for you. Then he attacked you," she was sobbing now, but she managed to continue, "and the curse rebounded and struck him down. But he was only mostly dead. Some part of him escaped. That's when I woke up." She couldn't speak anymore, because she was crying too hard. Harry pulled her into a hug, wishing that she hadn't had to see that. It was bad enough that he was subjected to it occasionally, but he wouldn't wish those nightmares on Malfoy. He silently held her, until her sobs grew quieter. She wiped her eyes, and looked up at him, gracing him with a watery smile. "I'm sorry," she apologized, giving a half-hearted laugh. "I really shouldn't bother you with all this."
He shook his head. "No," he said quietly, but with certainty. "I'm glad you did. You have no need to apologize. I really wish you hadn't seen that though."
"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Because they're bloody awful," he answered, giving her a bitter smile.
"True," she answered, her face serious. Then she smiled, a bit wistfully. "They're not all bad though."
"All?"
"Yeah, I've been having a lot of these dreams lately. They're always about the past, and they're always so real, almost like I was there, but it's impossible that I actually was."
"Really?"
"Yeah." She smiled, a real smile this time. "The best one I ever had was about how my parents got together." Her smile turned into a grin. "I'll have to tell you about that sometime. It really surprised me."
Harry laughed, glad to see that she looked a little better. "Promise?" he asked her.
She grinned at him, her smile dazzling his senses in a most pleasant way. "Promise," she answered, and crossed her heart. They laughed together, Harry enjoying the way that her laugh sounded.
He looked away from her for an instant, realizing that they were the only ones in the common room and that it was extremely late. Looking back at her, he smiled, then said, "I think we should be getting to bed now, Miss Weasley."
She looked down at her watch, and was shocked by the time displayed. She looked back up at him. "I do believe you're right, Mr. Potter."
"Are you going to be alright?"
"I'll be fine now, thanks Harry."
"No problem Gin."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight. Sweet dreams."
"Thanks. You too."
"Thank you."
They parted ways, and Harry headed up to the boys' dormitory and into
bed. He knew, instinctively, that it was going to be a sleepless night,
because his mind was filled with Ginny. How she had laughed, and cried,
and the way she had bantered with him, and her beautiful eyes, her long,
fiery red hair, and how she had felt in his arms. She was so unique, so
special, and Harry couldn't believe that he had never noticed it before.
There was still a part of him, granted it was a small part, that looked
rather cynically at emotions in general and emotions that related to Ginny
in particular. Bloody hell, that part of him thought, the next
thing you know, I'll be bloody writing poetry or some such thing. Yep,
it was going to be a long, sleepless night.