(A/N: I would LOVE to say here, that the completely edited version on this story will be seen on Gryffindortower.net. But I have just received an E-mail from them saying that they don't accept forth year stories, unless they're really really good. Apparently, I'm not, they don't want me. So everybody who keeps saying 'You should put this of Gryffindortower' please stop. You'll only make the wound deeper.)

Chapter 37

Pulling Need

Harry walked back down into the chamber and looked around at all the paintings once more. He tried to talk himself out of the feeling of regret. After all, this wasn't the last time he was going to be here. He could come back whenever he wanted.

However, he walked around and looked at each painting, memorizing it with all he had. He picked out his favorite ones, mentally wrote down their names. His favorite was the one with a twelve year old Heather sound asleep on the shoulder Sirius, sixteen at the time, and also sound asleep. He wondered if they had ever seen it. Someday, he would have to ask. Someday when it was safe to talk about his father's disappeared painting.

It probably wasn't a very smart move, sending the painting to the museum and the books back to the library. It would raise questions. But he wanted others to know about the prophesy, and knowing his father's work was in a museum made his heart swell with pride.

He walked out of the art room, through the family room, through his parent's bedroom, and into what used to be his room. He paused again, taking in the smell of baby powder. He reached over the crib again, and took out the stuffed phoenix. He smiled slightly. 'A phoenix. What a coincidence.'

He glanced at the toy bin, but decided to leave it for another day. He pulled open each of the drawers in the room to find only various articles of baby clothes. He opened the closet, empty of clothing because they didn't make hangers that small. But there was something in the bottom. It was a frame, to a painting.

He pulled it out and turned it around. He was looking at himself, over thirteen years ago, sound asleep in this very crib. It was the best painting he had ever seen. He wasn't a very good art critic, but this topped anything, easily. It was so life like, so true, that he had to touch it to check that it was flat.

And as he watched, his mouth falling open, the baby Harry moved. Not much, but he turned slightly and clenched his small fist.

His father had brought it to life. "Maybe I will try while you are sleeping."

He looked at the dresser, and what he hadn't noticed before, was the hammer and nail sitting there. His parents must have bee in the process of hanging it when Dumbledore had contacted them. He could almost see it in his mind.

His father, standing by the wall pointing to a spot. Harry as a baby standing in his crib, watching his father. His mother standing behind the crib, telling James up, down, to the left. A nail hanging from his mouth and a hammer in his left hand as he used his right index finger to point to the spot on the wall. The closet door open, the painting leaning against the closet door frame.

"Right there James," Lily would say.

"Here? Are you sure this time?" James asks through the nail he is holding in his mouth.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What about you Harry, what do you think?" Baby Harry laughing and clapping at hearing James say his name. "Alright, here it is." He marks the spot with a blue ball point pen, then takes the nail out and puts it on the chosen spot.

Then, something. I ring, a bang, a light, or maybe the appearance of Fawlks. Something to tell them the time is now. James lowers his arms and turns to look at Lily. They stare at each other for a moment, Lily has tears welling up in her eyes. Little Harry senses something is wrong.

"Well," James says with forced cheerfulness. "This'll have to wait until we get back." He sets the nail and hammer on the dresser, and the painting in the closet, closing the closet door.

Lily picks Harry up out of the crib, and in their haste, they both forget Leeka.

Harry blinked the tears out of his own eyes. Picking up the nail and hammer, he tried to figure out where on the wall his parents would have put it. His eye caught a mark, in blue ink. Harry shivered slightly, memories he couldn't even really be having haunting him. He put the nail on the spot, and using the hammer he hit it into the wall.

Blowing the layer of dust off of the painting, he carefully hung it up on the wall. The baby in the picture smiled slightly and shifted in his sleep.

With a small sad smile, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in what used to be his parents' room trying to memorize the smell before it would be replaced with his own. He walked over to the dresser, and opened any random drawer. The first that he tried was empty. The second was full of hair ties. The third he opened, was surprising filled to the top with pens. Blue ball point pens. He shivered again.

Grinning he picked one up, and looked at it. He pushed it into his pocket, then turned to his father's wardrobe. He knew exactly what he was looking for. In one of the small drawers, was a pair of socks. They were red, faded with age. His father's lucky Quidditch socks. The last match of the year was coming up, for the cup. Harry would take any luck he could get.

Pushing these into his pocket too, he suddenly realized how very tired he was. It was at least two in the morning, and he planned on going to class the next morning. Setting his internal clock for five hours, he fell sideways and was asleep before he hit his parent's bed.

Ginny walked into breakfast, and checked her watch. "Are you sure he'sss coming back today?"

"I thought so," Ginny whispered. She fell into her seat across from Hermione, the one next to her very empty. She was glad she was facing the door, so she didn't have to turn around every time it opened.

She hardly touched her breakfast, and Ron and Hermione for once didn't comment on how thin she was. They knew what was bothering her.

"Sal," Ginny said after a while, "he's going to be the death of me."

Sally chuckled. "Wouldn't sssurprissse me. If anything happened to him, you'd probably jussst keel right over."

Ginny made a fake swipe at her, smiling again. Sally had a way of cheering her up. "Here he comesss," Sally said suddenly.

Ginny just barely kept from jumping out of her seat. The door to the hall opened, and sure enough there was Harry. Nobody noticed at first, but as he set out across the hall to his seat whispers broke out all over the hall.

"There he is!"

"Wonder where he went?"

"Do you think he really killed something?"

Ginny smiled slightly at him. He plopped down into his seat, and wrinkled his nose at the food. "I hate runny eggs. Why do they always have to be runny?"

Ron, apparently, didn't catch the hint. "Where've you been, Harry? Everybody's been near tearing their hair out trying to figure it out."

Harry reached down into his pocket, and pulled out a small red stuffed phoenix. He set it down on the table, and grinned at Ginny.

She covered her mouth with her hand. "What a coincidence."

"That's what I thought," he responded. "It's name is Leeka."

Ginny's hand did very little to hold back her laughter. "I don't want to know."

"Good, cause I don't know."

"Wait, lemme get this straight," Ron said looking at the bird. "You've been gone for the past five days to get a stuffed phoenix."

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

Ron stared at him. "I give up! I really do!" Harry grinned again and re-pocketed the animal.

"Well, as I hate runny eggs, I'm going to run up to the dorm and pick up my books. See you in class. And Rose," he paused.

"What?"

"Thanks, just, thanks."

Ginny watched him walk away, slightly confused.

Harry found that it wasn't really quite so hard to make up the work he had missed. He was sleeping better, and the days seemed to get longer. Finals were coming, and he found he had enough energy in the evenings to study, practice Quidditch, and even have a class with Sirius.

Now that he understood what the block was, he used it to his advantage. He had already put a hole in it, from reaching through the block so often. That power came easily now, along with his natural power. But Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Curses, and Advanced Charms all required more power then his fourteen year old body could supply now. But if he reached through the block a little, he could do anything above and beyond the seventh years. Hermione was very impressed with him in Advanced Transfiguration and Advanced Charms, and Harry was glad she wasn't in Advanced Curses. She was trying to figure out why his power was growing so quickly at such a young age. If she were to see him in Advanced Curses, she would make a project out of it.

School work was no longer the problem that he was having. It was now something old that had returned ten fold.

This feeling about Ginny.

They were sitting in the common room. Ron and Harry were playing chess against Hermione and Ginny. It was becoming quite a game, to the point that they had developed and audience.

Harry didn't say much, Ron being the better player. Hermione seemed to be doing the same thing to Ginny. Years of practice against Ron had made Ginny a stunning player herself.

Harry studied the board, trying to figure out what the girls would do for their next move. However, he kept glancing up at Ginny. That feeling was back. It was stronger now that his feeling about the chamber was gone.

"I don't know why I think this, but when I get these feelings, they are always right." That was what his father had said. 'Possible that I get the same feelings? Wouldn't that be a laugh if You'll-kick-the-bucket-tomorrow found out. 'Mr. Potter, you're having premonitions? You must come back to my class!' Are they premonitions? The one about the chamber was right. It would forever change my life, both for the good and bad.'

He tried to focus on the game. Rather then look at how he and Ron could win, Harry tied to focus on how the girls could win. Suddenly, he spotted their plan, and Ron was playing right into it.

"Ron, maybe we should-"

"Trust me Harry, I know what I'm doing."

"But Ron, that pawn."

"It's okay Harry."

Ginny looked up and Harry. She rolled her eyes at Ron, the winked at Harry, the made her move.

Harry blinked at Ginny. Ron blinked at the board. "Bloody hell!"

"No Ron," George said seriously, "we are not at home."

"They've got you good there though," Fred put in.

"They've bloody beat us, Harry!"

"He tried to tell you," Ginny said with a smile. "It was a good game."

Harry watched Ginny. When she winked, that feeling. It had hit hard. What was it? He had to know.

Harry pulled on the faded red socks, and couldn't help but grin. They had a practice tonight. They were heading right for the cup, he could feel it. As he tied his shoes, there was a knock at his door.

"It's open!"

"Ready?" Ginny asked, walking in with her Lightningbolt slung over her shoulder.

"Almost."

"Nice socks," she said with a grin.

"Dad's. His lucky Quidditch socks. Won the cup Six time with them."

"Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult them. Really, they're very-"

"Ugly," Harry interrupted with a grin at Ginny. "I know that. You didn't insult them. Why are you so afraid I'm going to get mad at you. Didn't I tell you before that I would never be mad at you?"

She smiled. "They're hideous."

Harry's face fell. "Well they aren't that bad. They're just socks, they didn't do anything to you. Plus, they're my dad's."

"H-Harry I, I"

Harry started laughing. "You're so easy!"

"Harry Potter! I'm going to wipe the grass with your ass on that Quidditch field. Hear me? I want a one on one match. Now MARCH!"

Harry saluted her and with a grin marched out of the room. On his way past, she smacked his bottom with her broom.

As they walked out of the common room, Harry's grin faded. That feeling, stronger right now.

When they reached the locker room, instead of Harry standing to give the usual pep talk, Ginny pushed him onto the bench and walked to the front of the room. "We are going to practice, but first Mr. Potter has to go one on one with me as punishment for baiting me.

Fred and George grinned at Harry. "You're dead meat, Captain. She's going into one of her Ginny moods."

"She can be just as fiery as her hair when she want's to be."

"I don't know, I think I can take her," Harry said with a grin. "I have my lucky socks on."

"Is that so Mr. Potter?" Ginny asked. "Well you and your hideous socks can get out on that field."

Harry stood and bowed. "After you milady."

As she walked out the door, Harry hit Ginny's bottom with his broom stick.

He really hoped the rush of flying would push this other feeling away, or Ginny was going to cream him.

"What's the game, Rose?"

"That's Miss. Weasley to you. I want to beat you at your own game. Snitches."

"Snitches?" he asked. There was no way she would win.

"Yes. Let's go." She took off. The rest of the team was already in the stands, and all of them were cheering for Ginny.

"My own team has turned on me. I hope you know this means extra practices!" he shouted at them. Suddenly the "Ginny! Ginny!" turned into "Harry! Harry!" but then right back to "Ginny! Ginny!"

Ginny was letting the snitch out. It disappeared immediately.

Harry shook his head. There was no way her would ever understand her. The feeling hadn't gone away, if anything it had only gotten worse. Not knowing was driving him crazy.

Just a few minutes later, Harry spotted the snitch, and just like the game in second year against Slytherin, it was right behind Ginny.

Quickly, but trying not to look like he was in a hurry, Harry flew toward Ginny. "Rose, you know, I've been thinking. We really-" He was close. He flew up beside her. "We really need to hurry this up so-" he reached out and grabbed it, and held it in front of her. Her eyes widened. "So the rest of the team can practice," he finished.

Ginny grinned, and reached out and grabbed Harry ear. Despite Harry's protests, she pulled him over to the rest of the team.

"Mr. Potter thinks that because he has caught the snitch, he has won. Can anybody tell me why he is mistaken?"

Both Fred and George raised their hands.

Harry was confused.

"Anybody?" Ginny asked. Fred and George swung their hands around a little more. "Nobody? Oh well. The reason why you lose, Mr. Potter, is that your socks, are still hideous."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie cracked up. Harry just looked at Ginny as she grinned at him. "You know you're going to have to pay, right?" Ginny nodded. "Well then, I'll give you about a three second head start. One, three!"

With a scream, Ginny jumped on her broom and fled from Harry, as he chased her. Suddenly, he remembered the last time they did this, and what had happened. Throwing on a burst of speed that had nothing to do with the game, he grabbed her around the middle and pulled her to a stop.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Suddenly he felt very foolish. "N- nothing, it's just, I remembered the last time I chased you, and you almost fell in the fire. I didn't want you to fall off your broom or something."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks then. Your socks are still ugly."

The feeling, was almost engulfing him. "Oh yeah? Well when we win the cup you'll asking to kiss those ugly socks."

Ginny walked into potions. She threw a smile at Snape, something she did every day. "He alwaysss feelsss pain when you sssmile at him Rossse. Maybe you shouldn't."

"It's good for him," Ginny responded, falling into her chair.

The Hufflepuffs arrived a few minutes later, and Snape started to lecture them on what they would need to study for the finals coming up. After a while, he partnered them up and started them on a potion. Ginny mentally groaned. She gotten a member of her own house, and worse, Samantha.

As a rule, the girls of her dorm did not like her. This was for a number of reasons. In her first year, it was because she was strange, and never talked to them. In her second year, it was because they had found out what was going on in her first year. Also, one of the girls, Marine, had a crush on Bill, who everybody knew liked Ginny.

This year, it was because Samantha, the leader of the three girls, like Harry. And Ginny was friends with Harry, while Samantha was afraid to talk to him. Out of the three, Marine, Meredith, and Samantha, Meredith was by far the nicest.

"Hello Tulip." Ginny rolled her eyes at the wall. It was common for them to make fun of her nickname.

"Whoa," Sally said looking at Samantha. "Talk about jealousss. Rossse watch it, she wantsss sssomething you have, bad."

"Yeah, I know," Ginny said to Sally as she gathered her ingredients. "Bear."

Sally grinned, and looked back at Samantha. She hissed at the girl, and Samantha jumped. "Sal," Ginny warned with a mental smile. "You know better. Just because Harry isn't here doesn't mean you can go biting people you don't like."

Sally hissed at Ginny again. "I don't care if she gives you a bad feeling." Sally hissed again. "I don't care if you don't like the way she smells. Leave her alone."

"I- I'm going to go get the rest of the stuff!" Samantha said before running to the supply closet. Ginny and Sally started laughing.

"Is something going on here?" asked Snape.

"No Professor," Ginny said with a large smile.

Snape's eyebrows lowered, but her turned and walked away. "Thanks Sal, you're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sally pushed the newt tails they needed toward her. "You'd find sssome other sssnake and replace me. One with lessssss an attitude."

"Well, less an attitude would be nice."

"Can't kid with me, Rossse, I know when you are."

"You're no fun."

Sally made the experience of being paired with Samantha a lot less hard. They were about halfway through the class before another incident occurred.

Sally was around Ginny's neck, and she was adding the frog legs. She plopped them in all at once so she wouldn't have to look at them for too long. She had to drink this?

Suddenly, there was an explosion on the other side of the room, and blue smoke started to pour out of a cauldron so fast that the entire room was filled with it in a matter of seconds.

Ginny heard a word whispered behind her, and suddenly, her voice was gone. She couldn't scream as her hands were bound behind her back. She swung and kicked as she was pulled through one of the tiny windows at the top of the room that only showed the ground.

Harry was out in the clearing again. He was practicing his sword, something he hadn't done in a while, and found that he needed the practice. He'd come under the invisibility cloak, not wanting to be found.

But the sword was only one of the reasons that Harry was outside. There were a few others. For one, this was his class when he was supposed to have his class with Sirius, and he didn't feel like it today. For another, Ron and Hermione were taking their parenting final.

He groaned at the memory. The test was, to receive a magical baby, complete with life like functions, and with a partner, raise it for a whole week. Of coarse, Ron and Hermione had been chosen as partners. This, of coarse, right after they had 'broken up' for the eight hundredth time. Hermione of coarse, was set on doing everything right. Ron, on the other hand, wanted to take the baby flying. The result; a lot a yelling, a lot of crying baby dolls, and no sleep for Harry.

But the biggest reason that Harry was out here was that practicing with the sword took very little thought, and he needed a chance to think. Sally wouldn't help. "Harry, if not knowing isss bothering you ssso much, then go figure it out." So here he was.

What was wrong with Ginny?

'Or is something wrong with me? Why does it happen in waves. Why do I get this weird feeling that something isn't right, even though it isn't wrong? Why is there always something wrong?'

Right foot out, twist with left foot, hit with broad side to right of enemy's head. Only kill when necessary.

'Okay, narrow down when it happens. That night on the tower, when we were just laying there. It wasn't this strong before. As soon as the feeling with the tower disappeared, it got worse.'

Left foot back, left knee down, swing right leg, slash up slightly to the left.

'When nobody is talking. In that slight lull in conversations that humans have so our brains can catch up too our mouths. Then, it happens. That feeling comes. No, it's always there, it just gets stronger.'

Enemy to the right, left, and behind. Behind first, can't look over shoulder. Left next, weak side. Right, hardest to hit, comes last.

'When else? When we're flying. And she makes a great save, and the team claps, because we're going to win the cup, and she smiles. Then. Something not right, not wrong, just not, finished.'

Can't see out of the back of your head. Back to the tree. Enemies on every side. Don't hit the closest, hit the fastest.

'Something not finished, incomplete. Not just her thought, me too. Something about both of us, that isn't finished. What? The chamber, is finished. The prophesy, is as finished as it can get.'

The tree is alive. Not after you, enemy's after the tree. Guard. Block. Necessary becomes more often when a life besides your own is involved.

'Could it be Quidditch? Training not finished? No! I'm getting off the subject. That's not all the feeling is, only part of it. The other, pain. But not mine, hers. And it's my fault. Why?'

One on one. Predict the movements. Block first, attack when able. Goal is not death, goal is life.

'What did I do to her? She's in pain, because of something that I did to her that isn't finished. Maybe it's not that it isn't finished, but rather, incomplete? Half, it's only half, and my fault.'

Slow down, conserve energy. Numerous enemies. Uncounted. Take one at a time if possible.

'Only half of it is there. The other half is missing, and it's my fault, and because the other half is missing, she's in pain. I'm not giving her something. Half of it. My part. She needs.'

Disarming. No death. Predict the movement, aim. Quickly, don't leave yourself open for a hit. Throw the weapon out of reach.

'What is she giving, that I'm not. Help. She's always helping me, and I don't help her as much. Is that it? My half of the help? No, but yes. Our friendship-"

Stop. Still. Lack of movement.

Words echoed in his head. "You are the best, bravest, kindest, most loyal, most loving person I know. Never scare me like that. Making me think you went off the deep end. Don't do that again."

Looking into her brown eyes, seeing fear and pain. Wanting nothing more then to stop that pain. "You're my best friend Harry."

'Is it that? How close we've become? Maybe-'

A pulling interrupted his thoughts. He recognized it immediately. Sally needed him. He sheathed the sword, and grabbed the cloak. Then stopped. That wasn't all he felt. Something else, pulling at him with a need. The same pulling, but not from Sally. Instead it was coming through Sally. A bond Harry had because of a bond Sally had.

'GINNY!' He threw the cloak over himself and started to run.

(A/N: Only two or three (hopefully three so we make it an even 40) chapters till the end. So, will Harry EVER realize what this 'feeling' is? Wait and see! And PLEASE review. I'm really bummed that Gryffindortower.net didn't want me, and all the positive feedback you guys give helps a lot.)