Disclaimer: MINE!!!!!!!! IT'S ALL MINE!!!!!!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... ::ahem:: *looks around furtively in hopes that no on saw that* hehe... not really. The only things I own in this are part of the storyline, Hope, Harry and Athena Weasley (not Potter) and a few house-elves.

~*Beauty is Found Within*~

The next week I stood, still as stone, in front of the small cemetery where Harry had been laid to rest. I paused by the gate, blinking back tears, then continued to Harry's grave, which was placed between the parents that he had barely known.

The setting sun bathed his marble headstone in golden light as I dropped to my knees facing it.

"Sorry I haven't come for such a long time Harry," I said, trying to convince myself that he was listening, "I couldn't summon the courage." I hesitated, gathering my bearings.

"I wish I had some roses for you Harry, but they all died. I planted them last year and the rain washed away the roots." A tear fell on my hands, folded in my lap, "I just want you to know Harry, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you. I know you're with your parents now and I try to be happy for you, but I can't. Everyday I wake up, and for a second, just a second, I think you're there. But then I realize you're gone, and you're not coming back."

My eyes were closed against the pain, tears threatening to spill any minute. I stood unsteadily, brushed off my robes, and slowly left the grave.

Back at the Burrow, I stared at the cluttered debris that had once been my flowerbed. As soon as the seeds had taken root, a month long rain began, washing away all traces of the flowers. Only one flower had grown, raising a slender stalk before being beaten down by the unrelenting downpour. The rain had stopped a few week ago, but it was now far too late to replant the seeds.

Vaguely, as if in a dream, I grabbed a pair of gloves and began clearing away the remains of the once beautiful garden. I worked tirelessly, not even pausing to get a drink of water. I was determined to empty it out so that I could plant more roses.

Hours later I trudged inside, covered with dirt, mud, and who knows what else. After taking a long, hot bubble bath, I crawled beneath my covers, hoping against hope that I wouldn't have another dream. My efforts, however, were in vain.

I was no longer in the stone confines of the castle. As far as I could tell, I was in a dark, mysterious, suffocating forest. A wolf howled in the distance and I shuddered involuntarily. I made my way through the trees, shoving aside numerous low branches and choking undergrowth.

After what seemed like years, I stumbled into a clearing. I gasped, the contents of that clearing were more frightening than the darkest nightmare I'd ever had. In the center stood a tall, thin hooded figure, his face hidden by a mask. Before him lay a smaller unhooded figure, wearing only a thin white shirt and shredded trousers. As he raised his head defiantly, the silver moonlight reflected off his hair, transforming it into strands of soft white gold. The shadows played across his face, hiding his features from view.

"You're my son!" The tall figure shrieked, "And yet you betray me! Betray our lord, betray our cause!"

The boy stood shakily, "I am no son of yours," he growled, eyes burning passionately, "I have no father!"

"And for that you shall now pay the price!" The man snarled. He raised his wand, pointed it at the boy and roared *Metamorphoser feru*

The boy fell to his knees, screaming in pain. The man was laughing maniacally, watching the boy in triumph. The clearing began to spin before my eyes. The horrible screaming combined with the hysterical laughter was driving me insane. I clamped my hands over my ears, watching in horror as the boy's shape began to change. I shut my eyes tightly as the world flew apart.

Drenched in sweat, heart racing wildly, I bolted upright, safe in my own bed. My eyes closed against my will and I tried futilely to grasp the last few remnants of the dream. There was a boy……… and a man. Why couldn't I remember? The boy seemed so familiar, almost as if I had seen him many times before. The man's voice also sounded familiar, a cold voice, full of malice and rage.

I leaned against the headboard of my bed. "I have to stop these dreams," I muttered to myself, "but how? I don't even know what they mean."

I glanced at the clock and groaned. Four thirty in the morning. There was no way I could get back to sleep. Another night of sleep lost.

Slipping on my slippers, I padded downstairs to the kitchen and made some tea. Sipping it slowly, I made my way to the living room, where I turned on the television. Hermione had bought the TV for dad last Christmas. He had gone crazy over it, taking it apart many times and examining each piece extremely carefully. He had even installed several wizarding channels into it.

As I flipped through the various channels, I caught sight of a familiar face. I turned back to the channel, it was WNN (Wizarding News Network) and the face was none other than Draco Malfoy.

The newscasters face was grave as she began to speak, "It has now been six years since Draco Malfoy has gone missing. All attempts to find him have turned up nothing. It seems Mr. Malfoy has literally vanished off the face of the Earth."

"That's strange," I murmured, "he just vanished?"

I puzzled over the mystery. If he had truly disappeared, why did I feel like I had seen him recently? Suddenly, it clicked. The boy in the painting… could he have had something to do with Malfoy? I scoffed at the idea. It was utterly ridiculous. The dream wasn't *real*, it was just that… a dream.

The rest of the news was much less eventful. After watching for another hour, I returned to the kitchen, where I found mum mixing up batter for pancakes and cooking another batch at the same time.

"Morning Ginny!" she chirped cheerfully, "I didn't know you were up, would you like some blueberry pancakes?"

I nodded my consent and she piled a gigantic stack onto my plate. About half an hour later, dad lumbered down the stairs and sat down at the head of the long table we had eaten at for such a long time. But now there were only three Weasleys instead of the former nine.

Dad dug voraciously into his pancakes with the hereditary Weasley male appetite. I stared at him in shock. Even after twenty-four years I was still always taken aback by my brothers' and father's animalistic eating habits.

I picked at my food as mum chattered on about how beautiful and perfect her new granddaughter was. "Ginny?" she asked suddenly, "Can you go to Ron's today? I want you to check on Hermione and the children. I must go shopping for groceries," she glanced at dad pointedly, "We seem to have run out of food again."

Dad, completely nonplussed, continued reading a muggle book about electrical outlets.

I nodded and apparated to Ron's house where I found the entire family gone. Luckily, before I panicked, I spotted a small note tacked to the door. The note said, in Hermione's graceful handwriting, "Gone to St. Mungo's, Gin. Come if you want to."

Puzzling over the contents of the note, I apparated to the premises of the gleaming white hospital. Inside, a nurse's assistant told me to go to Dr. Berkely's office.

After getting lost at least three times, I finally found the doctor's office.

Peeking inside, I saw Ron and Hermione, speaking to a doctor with worried looks on their faces. Concerned, I pushed the door open and stepped in.

When she saw me, Hermione smiled weakly and said, "Hey Ginny, I hope we didn't worry you. We only came for a routine checkup."

Ron nodded his agreement, but the expressions on their faces gave them away completely.

"What's happened?" I demanded, "What are you guys hiding from me?"

For a long time, neither spoke. Finally, the doctor cleared his throat and began to speak, "Ahem……… my examination of Ms. Hope Weasley has uncovered an abnormal amount of natural magic in her system."

I stared dumbfounded at him and he continued, "Of course, you should be aware that every witch or wizard is born with an innate magical power."

I nodded, still unable to comprehend what he was saying and he resumed his lecture, "Ms. Weasley has the amount of magic usually attributed to a magical creature, sorceress, or seer. But I am not sure about it at the moment. I need to take some blood samples so that I can perform some tests and confirm my previous observations."

"Don't worry doctor, we will do whatever we can to help." Hermione said determinedly, "Whatever you need to do, go right ahead."

Dr. Berkeley nodded curtly and strode out of the room.

I turned to Ron and Hermione, "How is this possible?"

Ron sighed and hugged Hermione close to him, "I don't know Ginny… we'll just have to wait."

A/N: oooooooh… a mysterious ending… the next chapter will be about 4 months in the future, about five days before Ginny has to make her speech and Harry's ceremony. Everything to do with Hope and the dreams will be explained gradually, one piece at a time. This chapter was the first piece of the puzzle.

*Lizzy*  hehe… there's more coming!

*Melanie Pointe*   Thanks! I never thought Hermione could work as a comic relief, but she wasn't bad!

*SAngel*  The boy is Draco, but he looks so different that Ginny doesn't recognize him.

*Emeryss*  Thank you soooooooo much!!!! You've made me eternally happy!!!!!!!!!

*gohansfan*  Of course Ginny knows Draco, but if you look closely at the books, he doesn't pay much attention to her after second year (the singing valentine). Also, his appearance changed as he grew older, so she couldn't tell it was him in the portrait.

*Arella Hallo* I'm glad you liked the last chapter. Hope you like this one too!

P.S. *Metamorphoser feru* means "Transform wild" in French… I think.